Tonight was the fourth and final night of a Western film festival at the Getty Center of all places. The Getty is hands down one of my favorite museums ever. I know it well, but apparently not well enough. They're the last place I would've expected to see Westerns. It actually wasn't a stand-alone event, but a compliment to a photography exhibit called Dialogue Among Giants, which features the work of Carleton Watkins. I have to admit I'd never heard of Carleton before this exhibit, but you know, that's one of the reasons why I love the Getty, and museums in general. They're the perfect venue to discover the work of true artists who excelled at their craft and broke new ground. Indeed, Carleton is one of the giants referred to in the exhibition title, the others being his contemporaries, such as Charles L. Weed, Galen Clark, and Eadweard Muybridge.
Part of what makes this exhibition so interesting is that it shows three things happening at the same time. First, you've got the development and evolution of Carleton's talent. The earliest photos are from when he was barely legal drinking age. At the same time, we're seeing the evolution of photography, a nascent technology when Carleton first placed his eye 
to the view finder. And finally, these photos show us the development of the California landscape. In some cases this development is kind of sobering. Scenes of pristine nature become scenes of commercial or residential development with a scenic backdrop.
to the view finder. And finally, these photos show us the development of the California landscape. In some cases this development is kind of sobering. Scenes of pristine nature become scenes of commercial or residential development with a scenic backdrop.Carleton was born in the upstate New York town of Oneonta in November 1829. Mom and Dad ran a hotel and livery stable. As a youngster Carleton worked part time making deliveries for the family business. As soon as he was done with high school, he was done with Oneonta. He wanted to travel. It isn't really known if he was already into photography at this point, but his parents supported his ambitions, whatever they were. It's due to their bank account that he was able to get to South America in the first place. In San Jose, Chile he hooked up with a photographer named Robert H. Vance. This guy was basically Carleton's first mentor. He introduced our man to the picture technology of the day, called the daguerreotype.
Do you know what a daguerreotype is? I'd heard of it myself but never really got it. I mean I knew it was a way photographs used to be taken, but that's it. The exhibition explained that it was invented circa 1840. It basically involves a copper plate coated in silver that's made sensitive to light with iodine. You expose this plate to light, pointing the camera at whatever you want to photograph. Then you expose the plate to mercury vapor. Yes, mercury vapor. And that would develop the image. Sound weird? Hey man, this was cutting edge back in the day. And by the time Carleton came under the tutelage of Robert, it was still fairly new.
When he first arrived in California at the age of twenty, Carleton didn't stay. No one really knows wh
y, although it's probably because he couldn't find steady work. Then as now, it was tough being an artist. Carleton went back to New York because he didn't have any money, but he could always count on Mom and Dad. Between 1850 and 1852, Carleton made several trips to California via Chile. When he finally settled in California in '52, it was only because he landed a steady gig with a childhood pal of his from New York. This friend was none other than Collis P. Huntington, co-founder of the Central Pacific Railroad. The railroad happened about ten years later. For now Collis had a trading business in Northern Cal. No stranger to transporting stuff, Carleton had no trouble with the work. Unfortunately, though, the business burned down by the time the year was out.
y, although it's probably because he couldn't find steady work. Then as now, it was tough being an artist. Carleton went back to New York because he didn't have any money, but he could always count on Mom and Dad. Between 1850 and 1852, Carleton made several trips to California via Chile. When he finally settled in California in '52, it was only because he landed a steady gig with a childhood pal of his from New York. This friend was none other than Collis P. Huntington, co-founder of the Central Pacific Railroad. The railroad happened about ten years later. For now Collis had a trading business in Northern Cal. No stranger to transporting stuff, Carleton had no trouble with the work. Unfortunately, though, the business burned down by the time the year was out.Carleton decided to give a more honest go to making money with his budding photography talents. So he freelanced. Thanks to his work with Collis, he was already familiar with the mother lod
e area, that part of the Sierra Nevada that had the largest concentration of gold mines. Don't forget that the whole gold rush thing started just a few years earlier. It was in January of 1848 at the sawmill of one John Sutter when an employee of John's named James Marshall stumbled upon some gold flakes that forever altered California's course through history. Sorry to sound dramatic, but it's hard to overstate the significance of what happened at Sutter's Mill.
e area, that part of the Sierra Nevada that had the largest concentration of gold mines. Don't forget that the whole gold rush thing started just a few years earlier. It was in January of 1848 at the sawmill of one John Sutter when an employee of John's named James Marshall stumbled upon some gold flakes that forever altered California's course through history. Sorry to sound dramatic, but it's hard to overstate the significance of what happened at Sutter's Mill.So anyway, gold mines galore dotted the landscape of Northern California. Our man Carleton knew them like the back of his hand thanks to his work making deliveries for Collis. And this is the area where he got started as a freelancer. His mentor from Chile, Robert Vance, had set up a studio in the area and became one of Carleton's most frequent buyers. Carleton found other buyers too in and around San Francisco, Sacramento, and Marysville.
It was after about three years of freelancing that Carleton decided to switch from daguerreotypes to collodion-on-glass negatives with a mammoth-plate camera. No, it wasn't because daguerreotype is hard to spell. That remained a popular way to take photos 
for many more years. It's just that, with the glass plate negatives, you could reproduce them as much as you wanted, whereas it was impossible to make copies of daguerreotypes. They just weren't practical if your aim was to find as many buyers as possible. Of course, there is the small problem that you now have to carry around a friggin' mammoth-plate camera, and they're called mammoth for a reason. That's one of the cool things about the exhibition. Smack in the middle of the gallery they actually have a real mammoth-plate camera set up. I'm trying to think of what I can compare its size to. Maybe a tree house? Nah, it's not that big. Maybe a cross between a small tree house and a mansion-sized bird house. Whatever, it's huge. And those glass plates are huge too. Plus, ya know, they're glass, which made the issue of transporting them on a wagon over dirt roads kind of complicated.
for many more years. It's just that, with the glass plate negatives, you could reproduce them as much as you wanted, whereas it was impossible to make copies of daguerreotypes. They just weren't practical if your aim was to find as many buyers as possible. Of course, there is the small problem that you now have to carry around a friggin' mammoth-plate camera, and they're called mammoth for a reason. That's one of the cool things about the exhibition. Smack in the middle of the gallery they actually have a real mammoth-plate camera set up. I'm trying to think of what I can compare its size to. Maybe a tree house? Nah, it's not that big. Maybe a cross between a small tree house and a mansion-sized bird house. Whatever, it's huge. And those glass plates are huge too. Plus, ya know, they're glass, which made the issue of transporting them on a wagon over dirt roads kind of complicated.None of this slowed down Carleton, of course. In the late 1850s, after a good five or six years toughing it out as a freelancer, he received his first-ever commission. Yeah! And guess who it was? None other than John C. Frémont. That name mean anything to you? Besides being a famous California explorer, he was also the first-ever Republican Presidential nominee. He ran in 1856 against eventual victor James Buchanan. It wasn't until 1860 that we got our first Republican candidate who won: Some guy named Abe Lincoln. But anyway, let's back up. Mr. Frémont hired Carleton to use that mammoth-plate bad boy to take photos of the Las Mariposas mining estate, which he controlled. Besides all that, Carleton also took some photos of the Frémont family that were part of the exhibition. I wish I could show them to you here. You had this one gorgeous photo of the Frémont kids chilling out in a grassy field. Amazing stuff, and so intimate, ya know? It's a good century and a half ago and yet you feel like you might know these people.
As I said up top, the reason the Getty called the exhibition Dialogue Among Giants is that Carleton was photographing a lot of the same areas as his contemporaries, who themselves were pioneers in photography. They were giants of their field and, as the brochure nicely puts
it, they "engaged in a visual dialogue" with each other. What areas do I speak of? Well, Carleton sure loved Yosemite. A healthy share of this exhibition's photos are of sites in Yosemite Valley as well as stuff along the Mariposa Trail that leads to and from the valley. But he ventured elsewhere too, such as Oregon's Columbia River. What's interesting is that he'd return to the same sites after many years. I'm not exactly sure why, but it's kind of fascinating and humbling to see how little nature changes over a period of, say, a decade or so. If anything's different, it's the slightly different position of the sun. Generally, though, Carleton's signatures were to place his camera diagonal to his subject and with the sun low to the horizon because that was when light bounced off surfaces in neat ways. You take that Oregon example I cited above. This exhibition featured one photo of this settlement called Celilo on the Columbia River in Oregon from 1867. It's got this rock monolith on the right, a railroad track dead ahead, and the river on the left. Then he goes back to that same site in 1883 for another photo op. This time, though, he sets up the camera further to the left. The monolith still clearly dominates the right side of the frame, only not quite as much. And the railroad's much further to the right. Nah, what dominates the second photo is the river itself, with the sun's rays reflecting off it.
it, they "engaged in a visual dialogue" with each other. What areas do I speak of? Well, Carleton sure loved Yosemite. A healthy share of this exhibition's photos are of sites in Yosemite Valley as well as stuff along the Mariposa Trail that leads to and from the valley. But he ventured elsewhere too, such as Oregon's Columbia River. What's interesting is that he'd return to the same sites after many years. I'm not exactly sure why, but it's kind of fascinating and humbling to see how little nature changes over a period of, say, a decade or so. If anything's different, it's the slightly different position of the sun. Generally, though, Carleton's signatures were to place his camera diagonal to his subject and with the sun low to the horizon because that was when light bounced off surfaces in neat ways. You take that Oregon example I cited above. This exhibition featured one photo of this settlement called Celilo on the Columbia River in Oregon from 1867. It's got this rock monolith on the right, a railroad track dead ahead, and the river on the left. Then he goes back to that same site in 1883 for another photo op. This time, though, he sets up the camera further to the left. The monolith still clearly dominates the right side of the frame, only not quite as much. And the railroad's much further to the right. Nah, what dominates the second photo is the river itself, with the sun's rays reflecting off it.Of course, before all of that nature stuff, Carleton had to get his adolescence out of his system. Remember how I said his folks ran a hotel and livery stable? And how his first steady work in Californ-I-A was delivering stuff to mines? Well, sure enough, a lot of those early daguerreotypes are of stuff like mines and hotels. The whole first chunk of this exhibition features almost exclusively stuff like that, as well as shots of town streets, advertising signage, groups of miners, and so on.
Carleton worked steadily into the 1890s, when he was in his sixties, before he finally edged his w
ay toward retirement. He was successful, but like Mozart, he sucked with money. When he was in his thirties, his Yosemite photos earned him a ton of coin. He had fans as far away as Europe. But by his mid forties he'd spent it all. His success couldn't keep up with the money slipping through his fingers. The real heartbreaker is that he lost all of his negatives in the 1906 San Francisco quake. One of the photos they had here, taken by I'm not sure who, showed a seventysomething Carleton being helped out of his studio during the quake by two assistants while he was holding a white mask over his face to protect against the dust.
ay toward retirement. He was successful, but like Mozart, he sucked with money. When he was in his thirties, his Yosemite photos earned him a ton of coin. He had fans as far away as Europe. But by his mid forties he'd spent it all. His success couldn't keep up with the money slipping through his fingers. The real heartbreaker is that he lost all of his negatives in the 1906 San Francisco quake. One of the photos they had here, taken by I'm not sure who, showed a seventysomething Carleton being helped out of his studio during the quake by two assistants while he was holding a white mask over his face to protect against the dust.Still, a lot of his work has obviously survived, to the tune of almost thirteen hundred mammoth-plate pictures, almost five thousand stereographic photos, and a good bit of other works. Oh, and speaking of those stereographic photos, another cool thing about this exhibition is that scattered around the gallery they have these little stereographs set up where you can sit and take a look-see like someone would've done in the beforetimes. It's really neat because the photos look three dimensional. Essentially you're looking at two photos of the same thing.
Ultimately, and again like Mozart, Carleton left the planet a pauper. Like Mozart, he'd advanced hi
s chosen field by light years. He was a true groundbreaker in the field of photography, having laid the fertilizer for the likes of Ansel Adams. But when he passed away at Napa State Hospital at the age of eighty-six, he didn't have a penny to his name.
s chosen field by light years. He was a true groundbreaker in the field of photography, having laid the fertilizer for the likes of Ansel Adams. But when he passed away at Napa State Hospital at the age of eighty-six, he didn't have a penny to his name.As you can no doubt tell, this is easily one of the best photography exhibits I've ever seen, on par with the August Sandler exhibit I saw at the Getty last June and about which I wrote on this very blog. Mind you, I don't exactly go to photography exhibits every week, or even every month. But when I see one worth sharing, I can't help blogging about it. Dialogue Among Giants is simply too special not to write about.
But wait! It's even more special than that. As I said at the top, the Getty put on a Western film festival as a companion piece to the exhibition. Entitled How the West Was Shot: Six Westerns, Six Decades, it was, well, a festival of six Westerns, each from a different decade. They started with a silent from the 1920s and concluded with the 1970s. For the most part they went in order, although they did show the 1960s entry before the 1950s one for a reason that will become clear down yonder. As for when they were shown, the first one was last Friday, followed by the second and third on Saturday, the fourth one last night, and the final two tonight.
The Iron Horse (1924)
None other than John Ford directed this epic silent bad boy when he was still in his twenties. And he was already a grizzled vet with something like fifty films to his name. Seriously! If you see The Iron Horse and think it overdoses on archetypes, that's because when viewed almost a century after it was made, it sure does. What you have to understand, though, is that saying so would be a compliment. At the time, the characters were anything but archetypes, and it speaks volum
es about the success of John's narrative that it's been emulated innumerable times since. You've got this guy named Davey Brandon. When he was a kid, he saw his dad get murdered by this three-fingered white guy pretending to be a Native American, chap called Deroux. Then years later, as a twentysomething youngster working for Union Pacific, he helps finish the work his dad started: The construction of the first transcontinental railroad. Of course there's a love interest. We meet Miriam at the beginning, when she's a little girl and Davey's a little boy and they're neighbors. As adults, there's obviously a rival for her affection. So Davey's got to deal with that and the fact that Deroux's still around trying to make things complicated. But Davey's got his sidekicks, one of them a drunk and hot-tempered Irishman. I'm sure you can guess how it all ends. What was fascinating about this was the sheer scale of it. That John Ford, man, he didn't spare any expense. What's more, back then cameras were humongous and clunky. I can't imagine all the crew he needed to haul the stuff around, as quite a bit of it was filmed on location in Arizona and Nevada.
es about the success of John's narrative that it's been emulated innumerable times since. You've got this guy named Davey Brandon. When he was a kid, he saw his dad get murdered by this three-fingered white guy pretending to be a Native American, chap called Deroux. Then years later, as a twentysomething youngster working for Union Pacific, he helps finish the work his dad started: The construction of the first transcontinental railroad. Of course there's a love interest. We meet Miriam at the beginning, when she's a little girl and Davey's a little boy and they're neighbors. As adults, there's obviously a rival for her affection. So Davey's got to deal with that and the fact that Deroux's still around trying to make things complicated. But Davey's got his sidekicks, one of them a drunk and hot-tempered Irishman. I'm sure you can guess how it all ends. What was fascinating about this was the sheer scale of it. That John Ford, man, he didn't spare any expense. What's more, back then cameras were humongous and clunky. I can't imagine all the crew he needed to haul the stuff around, as quite a bit of it was filmed on location in Arizona and Nevada.The Big Trail (1930)
Raoul Walsh directed this epic about the Oregon Trail. And he also intended to play the main character, Breck Coleman. When he lost an eye shooting Old Arizona, that plan was out, and he wanted to cast Gary Cooper in his place. By this time, Gary came with a high price tag, and what with the Depression and all, Fox didn't feel like paying that much. Well guess what? None other than John Ford persuaded Raoul to cast this unknown struggling actor to play Breck: So
me dude named...(wait for it)...John Wayne! The Duke wasn't even twenty-five when he made this sucker. I'd never seen this before, so it was weird seeing him so thin, not to speak of baby faced. You can't help but recognize the voice, though. So anyway, he plays this expert tracker and scout named Breck, and he's persuaded to help all these folks, hundreds of them, travel from the Mississippi to Oregon. Again, like The Iron Horse, the sheer scale of this production makes your jaw drop. It was filmed in several places, among them Yuma, Arizona, Sacramento, Sequoia National Park, and Montana. One interesting piece of trivia has to do with the scene where they're lowering all of the wagons, oxen, and people down the Spread Creek Mills. At one point one of the wagons slips through the ropes and plummets hundreds of feet to the cliff base. Well, Raoul didn't exactly plan that. Years later he admitted that it was an accident and that he'd been counting his blessings ever since that no one got hurt. Also like The Iron Horse, you've got a great villain here: Red Flack. Great bad guy name, huh? He's played by Tyrone Power Sr., who passed away a year after this came out. Red's actually part of the group heading out west, so the tension's sort of constant. Breck knows Red's game but is calmly waiting for the latter to make the first move. Great stuff. In every way this film set a standard for epics of any genre, not just Westerns. I like the way the program describes this flick: "With 20,000 extras, the filming of the epic was perhaps more strenuous than the historic event itself."
me dude named...(wait for it)...John Wayne! The Duke wasn't even twenty-five when he made this sucker. I'd never seen this before, so it was weird seeing him so thin, not to speak of baby faced. You can't help but recognize the voice, though. So anyway, he plays this expert tracker and scout named Breck, and he's persuaded to help all these folks, hundreds of them, travel from the Mississippi to Oregon. Again, like The Iron Horse, the sheer scale of this production makes your jaw drop. It was filmed in several places, among them Yuma, Arizona, Sacramento, Sequoia National Park, and Montana. One interesting piece of trivia has to do with the scene where they're lowering all of the wagons, oxen, and people down the Spread Creek Mills. At one point one of the wagons slips through the ropes and plummets hundreds of feet to the cliff base. Well, Raoul didn't exactly plan that. Years later he admitted that it was an accident and that he'd been counting his blessings ever since that no one got hurt. Also like The Iron Horse, you've got a great villain here: Red Flack. Great bad guy name, huh? He's played by Tyrone Power Sr., who passed away a year after this came out. Red's actually part of the group heading out west, so the tension's sort of constant. Breck knows Red's game but is calmly waiting for the latter to make the first move. Great stuff. In every way this film set a standard for epics of any genre, not just Westerns. I like the way the program describes this flick: "With 20,000 extras, the filming of the epic was perhaps more strenuous than the historic event itself."Red River (1948)
More John Wayne! This time he's almost twenty years older, but is he wiser? Well... Here he plays this guy named Dunson (awesome main character name). At first he seems sympathetic. It starts with him on this wagon train with the woman he's been with a while and who wants to marry him and settle down. Oops. Here come some Native Americans to mess things up. They kill everyone. Dunson and his pal Groot (Walter Brennan) are the only two who escape. They make i
t into Texas and start their own ranch there. Then this little kid named Matt shows up. He's lost and has nowhere to go. He'd been part of that same wagon train and is still sort of in shock from all the pillaging and killing. Dunson adopts him on the spot. Okay now fast forward a bunch of years. The Civil War's just ended. Matt, now played by Montgomery Clift, comes home. He's barely off his horse when his dad announces he's broke thanks to the above-mentioned war and that he has no choice but to take all his cattle to Missouri. The cattle drive is anything but a walk in the park. Soon they're all miserable and wonder if it's worth it. Except Dunson, that is. He becomes a real dictator until Matt leads a mutiny and says he's taking the cattle somewhere closer. Dunson swears he'll find Matt someday and kill him. I won't tell you how it ends, but I will say it got a lot of flak for the anticlimactic climax. Personally I had nothing against it at all. Like the first two films, what you've got here is a movie of such scale you can't help but be impressed. Director Howard Hawks actually got nine thousand head of cattle for the drive and a good five hundred extras. And that stampede was a real stampede. Awesome stuff. What's more impressive is that Howard, while he'd dabbled in most genres at this point, had never done a Western. He filmed this near Elgin, Arizona as well as Mexico.
t into Texas and start their own ranch there. Then this little kid named Matt shows up. He's lost and has nowhere to go. He'd been part of that same wagon train and is still sort of in shock from all the pillaging and killing. Dunson adopts him on the spot. Okay now fast forward a bunch of years. The Civil War's just ended. Matt, now played by Montgomery Clift, comes home. He's barely off his horse when his dad announces he's broke thanks to the above-mentioned war and that he has no choice but to take all his cattle to Missouri. The cattle drive is anything but a walk in the park. Soon they're all miserable and wonder if it's worth it. Except Dunson, that is. He becomes a real dictator until Matt leads a mutiny and says he's taking the cattle somewhere closer. Dunson swears he'll find Matt someday and kill him. I won't tell you how it ends, but I will say it got a lot of flak for the anticlimactic climax. Personally I had nothing against it at all. Like the first two films, what you've got here is a movie of such scale you can't help but be impressed. Director Howard Hawks actually got nine thousand head of cattle for the drive and a good five hundred extras. And that stampede was a real stampede. Awesome stuff. What's more impressive is that Howard, while he'd dabbled in most genres at this point, had never done a Western. He filmed this near Elgin, Arizona as well as Mexico.Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)
They did this one before the 1950s selection because it's close to three hours and would've been too much to show as part of today's double bill. No matter. Once Upon a Time in the West is hands down one of my favorite films ever. After last night, I've now seen it four times, and all four times on the big screen. Honestly I can't imagine watching it on TV. It was directed by Sergio Leone, an Italian guy most noted for his spaghetti Westerns and for giving Clint Eastwood something to do when the poor guy couldn't get arrested in Hollywood. Most of this was filmed in Italy, as well as Spain. B
ut he did come to the States for two scenes as an homage to John Ford. When we first meet Claudia Cardinale's character Jill McBain in the beginning, she's getting off the train and needs a ride to her husband's place. Well, Sergio filmed that carriage ride sequence in Monument Valley, Utah. You can't miss it. The vistas defy words. Sergio also used Monument Valley as a backdrop for that key flashback that comes together piecemeal over the course of the film to explain why Harmonica (Charles Bronson) is hell bent on finding Frank (Henry Fonda). Speaking of Mr. Fonda, his casting here may be one of the best instances of casting against type I've ever seen. Seriously, if you're familiar with his work, he's the last guy you'd think of for such a character. Yet he, like the film itself, is perfect. The story is simple really, belying it's two hours and forty-five minutes. You've got Charles Bronson as this guy with a harmonica trying to find Frank. That's it. He wants to find Frank and have a draw. But everything is only set in motion when Claudia Cardinale arrives from New Orleans. Indeed, everything in this film happens only because she is there. Check it out. Let me move on before I gush. I can't gush enough about this masterpiece.
ut he did come to the States for two scenes as an homage to John Ford. When we first meet Claudia Cardinale's character Jill McBain in the beginning, she's getting off the train and needs a ride to her husband's place. Well, Sergio filmed that carriage ride sequence in Monument Valley, Utah. You can't miss it. The vistas defy words. Sergio also used Monument Valley as a backdrop for that key flashback that comes together piecemeal over the course of the film to explain why Harmonica (Charles Bronson) is hell bent on finding Frank (Henry Fonda). Speaking of Mr. Fonda, his casting here may be one of the best instances of casting against type I've ever seen. Seriously, if you're familiar with his work, he's the last guy you'd think of for such a character. Yet he, like the film itself, is perfect. The story is simple really, belying it's two hours and forty-five minutes. You've got Charles Bronson as this guy with a harmonica trying to find Frank. That's it. He wants to find Frank and have a draw. But everything is only set in motion when Claudia Cardinale arrives from New Orleans. Indeed, everything in this film happens only because she is there. Check it out. Let me move on before I gush. I can't gush enough about this masterpiece.Bad Day at Black Rock (1955)
Now here's a film with a simple plot and the running time to prove it. At a mere eighty minutes, Bad Day at Black Rock was adapted from a short story called "Bad Day at Hondo." What sets this apart from the other films in this series is that it takes place around the time it was made. Well, ten years earlier to be precise. It's set right after World War II. You've got this guy from L.A. named Macgreedy (Spencer Tracey). He was an officer in the war. The film starts with him showing up by train at this teeny tiny little town called Black Rock, "played" by the town of Lone Pine in Death Valley National Park. Spencer Tracey's awesome
. I've seen 'im in a lot of things, but this might be one of the best characters he ever played. Check it out. To add to the mystery of why he's in Black Rock looking for a Japanese farmer called Kamako, he keeps one of his hands in his pocket during the entire film. Yes, the entire film. So he's essentially one-armed. Is that other arm a prosthetic? What's wrong with it? We never know. And why is everyone in Black Rock so mean to him? Some even want to see him dead. Among the nasties are Lee Marvin, Ernest Borgnine, and Robert Ryan. Not a bad cast, eh? Not everyone hates him, though, and that would include the town doctor, Doc Velie, played by our pal Walter Brennan (Groot from Red River). Obviously I can't tell you why Macgreedy's looking for Kamako, nor why the townsfolk are determined he do no such thing. I can say that you can look forward to seeing Spence beat up Ernest Borgnine with one hand. That's pretty cool. According to the program, through this film director John Sturges became the first filmmaker to address the shame of our government interning Japanese Americans. And apparently this film was also supposed to be an allegorical wagging of the finger at Senator Joseph McCarthy for his Hollywood blacklist.
. I've seen 'im in a lot of things, but this might be one of the best characters he ever played. Check it out. To add to the mystery of why he's in Black Rock looking for a Japanese farmer called Kamako, he keeps one of his hands in his pocket during the entire film. Yes, the entire film. So he's essentially one-armed. Is that other arm a prosthetic? What's wrong with it? We never know. And why is everyone in Black Rock so mean to him? Some even want to see him dead. Among the nasties are Lee Marvin, Ernest Borgnine, and Robert Ryan. Not a bad cast, eh? Not everyone hates him, though, and that would include the town doctor, Doc Velie, played by our pal Walter Brennan (Groot from Red River). Obviously I can't tell you why Macgreedy's looking for Kamako, nor why the townsfolk are determined he do no such thing. I can say that you can look forward to seeing Spence beat up Ernest Borgnine with one hand. That's pretty cool. According to the program, through this film director John Sturges became the first filmmaker to address the shame of our government interning Japanese Americans. And apparently this film was also supposed to be an allegorical wagging of the finger at Senator Joseph McCarthy for his Hollywood blacklist.Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (1973)
When I was in high school, I was a Billy the Kid nut. I wanted to know everything about him. For my sixteenth birthday, my father and I flew out to Lincoln County, New Mexico, where the Kid did his stuff. We visited the town of Lincoln and saw the places where he'd made his mark (literally in the case of the jail and that bullet hole in the wall from when he killed Deputy J.W. Bell). I guess I was cynical going into this film because I felt I'd gotten the Kid out of my system. Shame on me for doubting Sam Peckinpah. Sure, he was a raging drunk while he filmed this, but that didn't stop his unique vision. Filming the whole thing in Durango, Mex
ico, Sam was smart in that instead of trying to tell the Kid's entire life story, he focused only on the last year or so, starting around the time Garrett was made sheriff of Lincoln County by the Santa Fe Ring. Here you've got a story where the players could each be called a hero and a villain. At one time Billy Bonney (Kris Kristofferson) was an honest ranch hand, and Pat Garrett (James Coburn) was the shady guy. Then Billy fights in the Lincoln County War, kicks some ass, and is made an outlaw. And Pat's the guy they make legit to deal with it all. There's this one hilarious scene where Pat deputizes a guy on the spot, some dude called Alamosa Bill (Jack Elam, who had a cameo at the start of Once Upon a Time in the West). Even though we don't get to know Alamosa Bill too well, you can tell he's hardly deputy material, which Pat doesn't seem to care too much about since he's drinking during that scene. See what I mean? It's a moral quagmire. Kris Kristofferson made for a terrific Kid, better than Emilio Estevez or Val Kilmer. The only thing I didn't agree with here was casting Bob Dylan as this fictional character named Alias. I didn't see the point of that at all. His music for the film was great, though. Was his casting a symptom of Sam's drunkenness? Anyway, I liked this far better than I thought I would. We've come a long way from those early Westerns that celebrated progress and adventure, a long way from The Iron Horse in terms of going from innocence to cynicism. My favorite line from this film is when Pat Garrett says: "This country's getting old, and I'm getting old with it."
ico, Sam was smart in that instead of trying to tell the Kid's entire life story, he focused only on the last year or so, starting around the time Garrett was made sheriff of Lincoln County by the Santa Fe Ring. Here you've got a story where the players could each be called a hero and a villain. At one time Billy Bonney (Kris Kristofferson) was an honest ranch hand, and Pat Garrett (James Coburn) was the shady guy. Then Billy fights in the Lincoln County War, kicks some ass, and is made an outlaw. And Pat's the guy they make legit to deal with it all. There's this one hilarious scene where Pat deputizes a guy on the spot, some dude called Alamosa Bill (Jack Elam, who had a cameo at the start of Once Upon a Time in the West). Even though we don't get to know Alamosa Bill too well, you can tell he's hardly deputy material, which Pat doesn't seem to care too much about since he's drinking during that scene. See what I mean? It's a moral quagmire. Kris Kristofferson made for a terrific Kid, better than Emilio Estevez or Val Kilmer. The only thing I didn't agree with here was casting Bob Dylan as this fictional character named Alias. I didn't see the point of that at all. His music for the film was great, though. Was his casting a symptom of Sam's drunkenness? Anyway, I liked this far better than I thought I would. We've come a long way from those early Westerns that celebrated progress and adventure, a long way from The Iron Horse in terms of going from innocence to cynicism. My favorite line from this film is when Pat Garrett says: "This country's getting old, and I'm getting old with it."