People walked out of this film, presumably in disgust, perhaps because they were too hip for woody harrelson. I'm glad this film pissed people off - it proves it was stupidly honest, stupidly nostalgic, stupidly big-hearted and not cynical, clever, PC nor anti-PC, not a mockery of anything. It's an American film by a British director, and like Lolita, boils thick Americanisms down to crystals of statement, taste, elan. How could anyone walk out on the fat man yodelling as the camera dollied in to that tight close-up?! It was a gem of a shot, a little gauche perhaps, not unlike the marlboro country the film rolls through, and the naked desire for the days when men were MEN - with winning hands, whiskey shooters and a tasty redhead named Mona... But this isn't leering masculinity bristling with three day growth! There is a notable absense of guns (for a western), and when they appear they are not sharp and shiny but heavy, tarnished and chunky. This is MC Solaar's nouveau western - cutting up slow shy grins, dusty scuffles, mewling coyotes and a lugubrious soundtrack heavy with sentimental strings, trumpets and the convenient pause for punctuation. This is true Hollywood, and I mean that as a compliment. It was one of those rare occasions where suddenly you see the film as more style than substance. That's why it was showing in Darlinghurst and not the multiplexes! Because of Woody Harrelson - so stupidly generous, stupidly the big man with his big scruples and big square jaw - it is a film that could so easily slip by, scoffed at, discounted for wearing its heart upon its sleeve, pinned not far below the stars and stripes and the silver star for service to country, mateship as tight as knuckles, horses with bottom and all that glory.
It's a movie for Kerouac, he loved this kind of carousing and childishness. Here, life is Hi and the cattle lo, plain Lo, yet another adopted child of Scorsese and his deep deep pockets. "From the depths of my reputation I bring you..." How dare he! Kidnapping the history of American film, like he was god's gift to world cinema, doing it all as a public service. But its worth it for Billy Crudup with his old man's shoulders, Billy with his switchblade, Steve with his necktie, straight six and coronary, LB and Bigboy - it all comes down to Bigboy - the backbone of the film, the gut-feeling and laboured gasp of this weighty piece of cinema.
It's old-school treatment, all sinew and gristle, bloody hooves; pretty dresses, buddy bottles and mexican girls who visit fortune-telling witches. It's a film which doesn't teach America's children to express their anger with words not weapons. No, like Apache tank-killers and cruise missles flattening Serbian houses, it tells Americans to go hard or go home - take it square on the chin, tear those clothes off and take whatever gratification you can get whilst still being the best man, the best friend, a good man with a natural feel for horses. It's homestyle American apple pie, all fragrance and warm pressure, like a horse nibbling oats out of the palm of your hand. So rope em and rape em cause nothing's keeping a good man down cept for a bullet in the chest or a pair of wide open thighs... And while I bluster, it's all poetry in the Hi-lo country, with its bloated cattle and californian dreams, snow on the ranges and the good ol' boys, we're just telling it like it is...
Further notes.
The preview contains many scenes that are not in the film : wartime footage, bigboy coming back for pete in the blizzard. In fact the preview contains all the elements superfluous to the film. It is not the story of a woman coming between two friends, it's a story about a way of life coming to an end, a coming of age, and the quality of relationships.
And returning to the generic music score I criticised earlier, from the preview I have identified (some of) it as sounding very similar to the opening to Fargo! What is this piece of music?
eugene chew
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