Movie Review: Blood Ties (2013)

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French filmmaker Guillaume Canet wastes little time setting the mood of his William Freidkin-like adaptation of the Cain and Abel storyline as transported to New York in the 1970s for this intriguing crime saga that centers on the complicated relationship between Billy Crudup’s good cop Frank and his charismatic bad boy older brother Chris (Clive Owen), who’s just been let out of prison after a lengthy sentence.

A dazzling exercise in cinematic style, Canet’s Blood Ties establishes the time, place and feel of the work within its bravura opener that blasts the song “Back in the New York Groove” from its nonchalant beginning all the way up through a police bust and gunfight until Crudup demands the record be shut off.

Far from just a neat trick of editing, this pulse-pounding start to what is a domestic drama more than anything else immediately elevates Ties from recent topically similar features and likewise helps Canet set the stage for dozens of impressive sequences of street opera to come, given the work’s clever marriage of visuals and sound (from ambient to musical).

Whether this approach stems from the fact that this is Canet’s first English language, American-made picture is unknown but far from just opting for trendy scenes of violence and bloodshed cut perfectly in sync with a hit ready rock and roll soundtrack, Blood Ties is filled with gorgeously composed sequences that transcend language to let you into the characters’ lives on an emotional level.

This is perhaps best executed in what feels like a Cassavetes inspired scene that may have been too painful to witness complete with all of the dialogue which finds Frank fighting with his old-flame (Zoe Saldana) before the camera pulls back to the street to give them privacy as we watch them wordlessly argue and make up across multiple locations.

Frank’s fiery passion is mirrored with a sweet moment of romance that plays out silently for his brother in a lovely scene where Mila Kunis uses “Crimson and Clover” to let Chris know that she’d like to be kissed as the audience comes to realizes that this weathered man has been inside for so long that he’s completely missed out on the sexual revolution.

Yet more than just romantically, this technique is also used to build unbelievable tension throughout Blood Ties. From employing The Velvet Underground’s “Heroin” over another multi-set sequence that leads to the unraveling of one character and relying on only silence and ambient sound in two key chase scenes that forever alter lives of the brothers from one shootout turned foot chase to a showdown at Grand Central Station, Blood Ties is a must for aspiring editors.

Of course, crime film buffs will immediately respond to the way that the Grand Central Station finale calls to mind Brian DePalma’s symbolic use of train stations in Untouchables and especially (given its fateful similarity) Carlito’s Way.

Filling a work with Hollywood movie homage while simultaneously making a film that is uniquely his own is no easy task and it’s to Canet’s credit that he pulled it off.

With as much attention to detail as there is onscreen, it comes as no surprise how important the little details are in making the movie work, which is evidenced with how much hinges on missed connections, crossed paths and unspoken words as in a key moment a phone call is made where a signal is given and characters speak a mouthful without uttering a word.

And while I still contend that they should have flipped the names of the brothers around as in no universe does Clive Owen seem more like a Chris than a Frank and vice versa for Billy Crudup, admittedly, it’s this emphasis on getting the mood and emotion right – right down to each and every little, wordless detail – that helps set Ties apart.

The importance of Canet’s artistry cannot be overstated as admittedly, the film’s plot is entirely too familiar as audiences have been inundated with blood ties vs. thin blue line movies over the past few years from We Own the Night to Pride and Glory (just to name two).

Therefore, it comes as no surprise to discover that (even though I haven’t seen the original), Blood Ties is actually an American remake of a 2008 French film in its own right or that Canet co-wrote the script with We Own the Night’s James Gray, whose frequent star Mark Wahlberg was set to play Crudup’s role.

While thankfully Wahlberg sensed the déjà vu in the roles and bowed out before production – leaving Crudup to help put a new face on what critics may otherwise have easily dubbed We Own the Night II, thankfully Canet worked that much harder to go back to the original source of ‘70s filmmakers from Friedkin to Lumet and more to challenge this new school of family cop movies.

An excellent crime tinged family saga – while not nearly as thrilling as the picture that put him on the map via his French adaptation of an American crime novel with Tell No One — Blood Ties is still utterly compelling from start to finish.

Although it’s augmented by its A-caliber cast that also includes James Caan, Lili Taylor, Noah Emmerich and Marion Cotillard, there’s not a lot regarding the film’s plotline that we haven’t seen before. Nonetheless, in the mesmerizing Blood Ties Guillaume Canet proves that a true filmmaker should never underestimate the number of tools that are at your disposal when telling a story cinematically.

Thus, given his command of the material and ambition to turn what could’ve been a simple formula picture to new poetic levels, Canet reveals just how long to rely on words before using everything else up his sleeve to get us back in the New York groove his characters populate to keep us transfixed all the way until Blood Ties reaches its final destination.

   

Text ©2014, Film Intuition, LLC; All Rights Reserved. http://www.filmintuition.com Unauthorized Reproduction or Publication Elsewhere is Strictly Prohibited and in violation of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act.  FTC Disclosure: Per standard professional practice, I may have received a review copy of this title in order to evaluate it for my readers, which had no impact whatsoever on whether or not it received a favorable or unfavorable critique.

Criterion Collection Blu-ray Review: Thief (1981)

Now Available to Own

It seems somehow anticlimactic to write about the work of director Michael Mann inside my house with the heat of the Arizona sun beating in through the cracks of my living room blinds in the late afternoon.

When it comes to Mann, a fitting tribute would be to dictate this piece from behind the wheel of a top-down American model ‘70s convertible while cruising through questionable urban landscapes with the radio blaring and the heat of the night growing cooler every time I drive through tunnels or atop bridges over troubled bodies of water.

For these images are so quintessentially Mann in nature that even his name lends itself to his masculine aesthetic of an oeuvre that’s perhaps most notable for the impact of his influential smash television series Miami Vice. And whether he’s working on the small screen or the big (as epitomized in his grandest epic Heat), Mann spends as much time visually fixating on shadows as he does on those who live in the gray area between what is black and white and wrong or right on both sides of the law.

A new kind of crime film landscape that can’t be categorized as Film Noir or even Neo-Noir, Michael Mann’s filmography focuses on the dark, shadow-strewn urban noir of the Baby Boom Generation where individuals strive to find the piece of the American dream they believe they were subtextually promised — via the phrase “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” — by any means necessary.

And while those who’ve viewed his entire catalog know that this signature visual style and topical obsession is actually older than Vice, the Criterion Collection’s latest remastered classic gives everyone else the chance to see the character drama that first brought these ideas to cinematic life with the release of his underrated, understated, auspicious feature-filmmaking debut Thief.

In the filmmaker-approved Blu-ray/DVD dual format release, one of the most fascinating things we learn in the set’s behind-the-scenes special features is that these same aesthetic trademarks that populate his entire filmography had actually preoccupied Mann years before he ever picked up a movie camera.

As a native Chicagoan with an admitted "cynicism about institutions,” Mann’s fascination with the urban landscape first started to reveal itself through snapshots he took as a young man in his late teens. Drawn to the architecture of the city, Mann’s early photography was filled with dominant images of bridges along with overwhelming shadows and fog. Moreover, he found himself intrigued by the idea that when you put a figurative “lid” on top of the city (whether it’s via the tops of the buildings or the night sky), you become part of an urban maze.

Like a rat that’s trying to break free of the darkness and restraint, feelings of paranoia, claustrophobia, and a world-weary mentality naturally started to evolve from this visual symbolism. And years later when he made the move to filmmaking, it became clear to Mann that this was the exact mental state and aesthetic look needed for stories that centered on characters that played the angles — all trying to find a shortcut to escape the oppressive nature of the city that surrounded them.

Having filed away these images at the start of his career spent helming short films, television episodes, and documentaries, it wasn’t until he directed 1979’s TV movie The Jericho Mile on location at Folsom Prison that everything clicked for Mann on a visceral level.

Leading right into Thief, this one-two punch kicked off what would become Mann’s career-long study of right vs. wrong. While he would venture into other worlds from time to time, Mann was especially fond of exploring the law and disorder of police and thieves and the way that the sides have much more in common with one another than they’d like to believe.

And even when he found himself going as far back in time as The Last of the Mohicans, the men in his films still try to negotiate their environmental maze, deciding for themselves not only the meaning of their life but existentially just how far they’re willing to go to claim their own unique piece of the American dream.

While it isn’t nearly as splashy as his later films, Thief has a quiet power that still resonates today. Featuring a brilliant, dynamic turn by the so-often larger-than-life James Caan who trades in Sonny Corleone’s hot temper for a (mostly) restrained, emotionally cut-off character, Thief marks one of the actor’s strongest performances that even Caan agrees stands as one of the best “two or three” films he’s ever made.

Based on a confessional work penned by a real-life jewel thief which was published in 1975 under the title The Home Invaders, Mann not only culls a great deal from the printed source but also the man behind the book who portrays a corrupt cop onscreen as well.

Drawing on his Jericho Mile experience in addition to the technical advice of real-life thieves in order to execute a film unparalleled in its authenticity, Thief is notable for just how much it respects its audience.

Not spoon-feeding us with dumbed-down tough guy language, Thief relies on the real terms used on the street among fences and safe crackers to construct richly detailed sequences that illustrate the tricks of the trade and just how much work goes into any given heist.

Likewise knowing that as a thief, Caan’s Frank wouldn't let just anyone in on his secrets, he keeps us similarly at arm’s length in our introduction to the man who talks in code and uses a cover job as a used car salesman to ensure he can always switch to a different “work car” when needed.

Only using certain phones and relying on a strong system of allies in his loyalty-centric business, Mann lets us witness it all while at the same time never letting Frank be so accessible or easily charismatic that when he threatens someone early on, we’re still able to believe he’s an intimidating man of his word.

Having gone to jail for a mere forty-dollar theft as a young man, Frank’s two-year bid turned into a nearly two-decade long one after — being forced to protect himself from unspeakable harm — he added a manslaughter charge to his sentence.

Learning everything he ever needed to know about becoming a real live thief from his best friend, mentor, and father-figure inside the joint, Oklahoma (Willie Nelson), Thief isn’t shy about exposing numerous flaws in our justice system from prison as a criminal trade school to the unchecked corruption of appalling abuse that goes on behind cell doors.

Eager to put his life in order on the outside fulfilling all of the goals he’d made for himself on the inside in a magazine photo collage that he keeps in his wallet at all times, as the film begins, Frank is successfully pulling down two scores a month with his friend and partner Barry (James Belushi).

Yet when Frank’s greed and desire to obtain everything in that collage even faster gets the best of him, he signs on with Leo (Robert Prosky), an underworld figure eager to take on the role of father figure to Frank outside the joint by setting up fool-proof jobs with higher payouts and considerable more risk.

Previously a solitary man who wasn't interested in having so much as a conversation with someone he didn’t know, Frank’s slightly out-of-character decision to trust Leo does make us cry “foul” as it goes against everything we’d learned about him. Fortunately, this new alliance marks Thief’s only false note of contrivance in an otherwise flawless film.

Originally signing on with Leo for a test run only to realize fairly quickly that he may have gotten in over his head, Frank soon begins attracting unwanted attention on both sides of the law.

Jeopardizing not only himself but his burgeoning relationship with a diner cashier (played by Tuesday Weld) who, much like Frank has had more than her fair share of hard times, once Frank successfully talks her into taking a leap of faith and marrying him, his own leap of faith with Leo begins to spiral out-of-control.

Realizing that he must find a new way out of the urban maze of obstacles that have only grown more perilous since he joined forces with Prosky’s gangster, Frank discovers that the closer he gets to achieving his version of the American dream, the closer he comes to death.

Filled with gorgeous symbolism in its stunning frame composition and strong sense of style that helped foreshadow all of the Mann movies that would follow, the amazingly cleaned-up image on the Blu-ray transfer makes the visuals look as good as some of Mann’s newest films. Likewise, the Tangerine Dream film score has never sounded better, similarly serving as a great precursor to the way he’d go on to use music on TV in Vice and in film via the underrated Collateral in addition to many others.

Marking the feature film debuts of James Belushi and Dennis Farina in front of the camera as well as Mann’s behind the lens, Criterion’s release offers a bevy of worthwhile bonus features including an eye-opening interview between the director and Variety’s Scott Foundas.

Also boasting a commentary track, while the usually astounding essay included in the collectible booklet is a bit weak in its attention to detail (naming the wrong prison inhabited by our lead) and not quite as compelling as the ones included in recent releases such as Rififi and Nashville, the breathtaking attention to detail in Thief's restoration more than makes up for it.

While one can only hope that this dazzling release will be a harbinger of more Michael Mann on Criterion to come, it’s a stunning technical update and remarkable feature debut that reminds viewers that sometimes the first film a director makes can set the tone for an entire career.
   

 Text ©2014, Film Intuition, LLC; All Rights Reserved. http://www.filmintuition.com Unauthorized Reproduction or Publication Elsewhere is Strictly Prohibited and in violation of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act.  FTC Disclosure: Per standard professional practice, I may have received a review copy of this title in order to evaluate it for my readers, which had no impact whatsoever on whether or not it received a favorable or unfavorable critique.

Blu-ray Review: Elf -- Ultimate Collector's Edition [Holiday Gift Tin] (2003)

Now Available to Own 

If you took the same syllogistic “if a then b” logic and applied it to actors in a Six Philosophical Degrees of Kevin Bacon style manner, it stands to reason that Meryl Streep must be quite a fan of Will Ferrell.

Instead of dishing up a generous helping of glittering generalities while praising Ferrell's onscreen Taladega Nights love interest Amy Adams, her Doubt costar Streep went a step further to describe Adams' level of talent by acknowledging her gift for believably portraying innocence, which Streep reveals is one of the hardest characteristics to successfully carry out.

And sure enough, there's some degree of innocence that floods through the often outrageous fictitious creations that Ferrell has brought to life in movies like Anchorman, Stranger than Fiction and Step Brothers whether it's in his man-child Adam Sandler-esque personae or through the mask of ignorant arrogance his alter-egos adorn like a shield to cover up their emotional immaturity.

Yet, it's hard to argue that – more than any of his other characters and right on par with Adams' turn as an out-of-her-element princess who goes from Disney animation to live action Manhattan in Enchanted – Ferrell's role as an orphan raised among Santa's elves in the North Pole before winding up in the Big Apple in search of his biological father is his most heartfelt, innocent and guilelessly masterful portrayal yet.

The fact that Ferrell makes it look so effortless and natural is a testament to his skill since admittedly at times the role of Buddy the Elf does walk a fine line between innocence and immature idiocy and a lesser actor may have turned Buddy's naiveté into an opportunity to play it far too broadly. However, even when Ferrell does burst with energetic non sequiturs and sugar-induced jolts of hyperactivity like a kid in a candy store, we're never in doubt that his motives are sweeter than a candy cane, his heart is in the right place and it's completely within the context of the character.

Likewise, Ferrell resists the temptation to break character as well as the fourth wall even for an instant to wink knowingly at the audience in reference to the sheer ridiculousness of some of the situations that comprise director Jon Favreau's now contemporary Christmas classic. In doing so, he remains utterly genuine from start to finish, taking in the city he lived and worked in as a cast member on SNL as though he'd never been there in his entire life.

After roughly thirty years of ignoring the obvious signs that he wasn't an elf, the former orphan who as a baby crawled into the bag belonging to Santa (Ed Asner) is sent on a journey to track down his real dad (James Caan) by his loving adoptive father (Bob Newhart). Determined that a little Christmas cheer is all that his workaholic book publishing papa, Walter Hobbs needs to get off Santa's naughty list, Buddy doesn't let a little thing like Empire State Building security guards spoil his first meeting with the man who never even knew he'd fathered a son.

Needless to say, the arrival of an always cheerful thirty year old grown man wearing a green elf's uniform complete with matching tights takes Walter by complete surprise as he reluctantly gives into the wishes of his loving, thoughtful wife (Mary Steenburgen) and brings Buddy home to stay at his place with his tween son (Daniel Tay) until he adjusts to life away from the North Pole.

In a creative holiday movie lover homage to the classic Christmas feature, Miracle on 34th Street that, like Elf urges viewers to renew their childlike belief in Santa Claus and share in the true meaning of the holiday, Buddy gets work in a department store's North Pole display where his commitment to authenticity gets in the way of the store's commercial celebration.

And just like a department store aims to fit the needs of a diverse clientèle, Elf successfully manages to appeal to a wide range of viewers. An unlikely coming-of-age picture that's also effective as a fish out of water culture clash comedy, Elf is especially meaningful for children who were adopted as well as those who “feel different” than the rest whether it's anything from ethnicity to disability etc.

Additionally, it's a great crossover effort for both independent filmmaker Jon Favreau into the type of big budget blockbusters he'd eventually embrace by taking the helm of the two recent Iron Man movies along with its star who was in dire need of breaking out of the “frat pack.” Just in time for the holidays, Elf is made all shiny and new again in Warner Brother's adorable collectible tin box set.

Given a terrific high-definition transfer to Blu-ray that accentuates its slick production values and feisty musical choices that incorporate Louis Prima and actress Zooey Deschanel who would later enter the music business, the set includes a soundtrack sampler along with gift tags, a holiday stocking and picture frame along with an extra digital copy of the film to download to your portable devices.

More than just another terrific Christmas comedy, Elf reaffirms a child's need to explore their imagination and belief in Santa Claus as well as being part of a loving family unit. At the same time, it inspires genuine laughter in adults who can identify with Buddy's sincerity and his off-the-wall plight in addition to the nostalgia of the season that the film utilizes from start to finish.

When epitomized by a sugar crazed Will Ferrell who just wants to be loved, innocence never felt more hilarious or heartwarming. Now if only we could get Ferrell and Streep to star in a movie together before next season!

Text ©2010, Film Intuition, LLC; All Rights Reserved. http://www.filmintuition.com Unauthorized Reproduction or Publication Elsewhere is Strictly Prohibited and in violation of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act.  

FTC Disclosure: Per standard professional practice, I received a review copy of this title in order to evaluate it for my readers, which had no impact whatsoever on whether or not it received a favorable or unfavorable critique.

Warner Archive Collection DVD Review: Freebie and the Bean (1974)

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Whether it was a biker movie starring one of the original Easy Riders like Peter Fonda or Jack Nicholson or even a stock car racing picture with Annette Funicello and Fabian-- director Richard Rush had a particular affinity for films that moved as if on the same wheels he loved to incorporate throughout his body of work.

Making movies that sometimes careened out of control like a car sliding on an icy turn or a motorcycle skidding on wet cement-- he created the original and literal Fast and the Furious picture with the cult classic '70s buddy cop movie Freebie and the Bean which later became a short-lived television show.

So politically incorrect that even Lenny Bruce may have done a double take (of course had he written it, the jokes would've consistently sped through green lights as opposed to losing hubcaps in several potholes along the way), it nonetheless seems to have been utilized as the most outrageous paradigm later worked to death in the following decades with movies like Lethal Weapon, 48 Hours, Beverly Hills Cop, Stakeout, and Bad Boys.

And, especially considering its over one hundred car crashes-- Freebie and the Bean is exactly the type of film you just know Blues Brothers director John Landis giddily wanted to top with Aykroyd and Belushi's "mission from God."

Not above emptying out the contents of the trash can used by a racketeering baddie into the trunk of their car in order to search for clues-- it's safe to say that instead of the traditional "good cop, bad cop" routine, in the case of Rush's characters (which were developed by screenwriter Robert Kaufman from a story of Floyd Mutrux)-- we're basically dealing with "unstable cop" and "crazy cop."

If you can overlook some of the tasteless humor (especially involving one gay character and overall the entire despicable character of Freebie as well), then you can shut your mind off and belt yourself into the car alongside James Caan's bigoted, wise-cracking Freebie and his Latin American partner Alan Arkin, whom he calls "Bean" (when not otherwise seasoning him with ethnic jokes).

And likewise, you will definitely have to get past the frankly ridiculous casting of Arkin in the role that no doubt appealed to the same illogical school of thought that found Charlton Heston playing a Mexican in Orson Welles' brilliant Touch of Evil not to mention the fact that absolutely nothing about these cops' actions would fly for real on the job.

Despite this, it's a mile a minute rapid fire literal smash fest that leaves no car unscratched (with most totaled) or any group without offense as I was shocked to discover the film was actually banned in Sweden!

Amusing despite the relative absence of any real plot other than the increasingly ridiculous stunts the guys pull to nab their man, the movie-- which has just been released as part of the Warner Archive Collection (exclusively from the WB Shop and available as a DVD or digital download)-- gained a cult following despite what I read was fierce competition from the overall better-received and similarly constructed Elliot Gould/Robert Blake vehicle Busting from director Peter Hyams.

Entertaining but definitely showing its age on a number of levels-- the one real bright spot aside from being a car crash movie lover's dream is in the surprise Golden Globe nominated turn by Valerie Harper as Bean's beautiful wife who keeps her cool and retains logic while he uses a cop's approach in questioning her for what he assumes is an extramarital affair.

While I'm certain it's probably not one of Godfather star James Caan or Oscar winner Alan Arkin's most beloved performances, it's still a mindless Saturday afternoon time waster. Additionally it's one that no doubt inspired as many subsequent opposites attract cop buddy films as it did offend viewers who simply tuned in without being aware of what exactly they were getting into as they were quickly side-swiped by Rush's style that plows everything home with as much damage as possible for the sake of "only in the movies" entertainment.

DVD Review: El Dorado (1966) -- The Paramount Centennial Collection

New From Paramount Centennial Collection

In the oft-cited famous story of Hawksian lore, when Howard Hawks contacted Robert Mitchum about the possibility of making a movie together and an interested Mitchum took the bait and fished for the plot-- Hawks reeled him in telling the actor that, “There’s no story. You and Duke play two old cowboys.”

However, their perception of the film differed upon its completion with Robert Mitchum confessing that—truth be told-- El Dorado “was all character development,” whereas the traditionally anti-analytical Hawks had second thoughts, revealing in the notes of this Paramount Centennial Collection 2-Disc DVD that in all actuality there ended up being a pretty good plot (courtesy of Leigh Brackett’s crackerjack script) “even though it wanders around.”

For, in the familiar terrain of Hawksian male bonding pictures of “professional courtesy” even for one’s rivals-- along with a strong female character who’s one of the boys and the mentor/protégé relationship of pairing a cynical and wise man (usually Duke Wayne) with a naïve but earnest youngster--you can most definitely-- as he shares, “let a thing wander around.”

And despite the fact that Howard Hawks seemed to master every genre from the gangster picture with Scarface to the screwball comedy with Bringing Up Baby to the film noir with The Big Sleep-- making in fact very few westerns in comparison to the era’s most famous genre director John Ford (with whom he shared John Wayne countless times) -- it's his westerns that have become especially beloved over the years.

While my favorite Howard Hawks western is undoubtedly Red River starring John Wayne in the role he frequently stated made Ford finally realize that he could actually act alongside the irreplaceable Montgomery Clift-- Hawks' biggest hits seem to be the ones that blended together all of the elements from his previous genre pictures like the slapstick of Baby to the professionalism of Only Angels Have Wings to the sultry dames played by Lauren Bacall in movies such as The Big Sleep.

And to this end in 1959, Hawks made his most rousingly entertaining western with Rio Bravo (again starring The Duke and penned by Brackett) which was originally envisioned as a right-wing response picture to their distaste for the Gary Cooper classic High Noon which Hawks and Wayne found downright un-American (for more on this subject, read my essay on the films here).

Containing what can arguably be considered Dean Martin's best on-screen performance as an alcoholic law man driven to drink due to trouble with a woman (a frequent plot device), Rio Bravo found Martin teaming with veteran tough Wayne, the kid “Colorado” (Ricky Nelson), and a disabled Stumpy (Walter Brennan) to take down a ruthless villain.

After a couple of flops and although Hawks vehemently denied the claim, he remade the film for a second of what would eventually be three times (resulting in their final western together, Rio Lobo) via 1966’s El Dorado which began filming in ’65 but was ultimately released in ‘67.

In doing so, he returned to the same Old Tucson location set where he’d filmed Bravo years earlier complete with those smaller buildings that made the tall actors look even larger than life. Additionally he reworked the earlier premise with the help of Brackett who (along with Wayne) had actually wanted to be more faithful to novelist Harry Brown’s darker, Greek-tragedy inspired western book The Stars in their Courses but they ultimately abandoned most of the literary source material in favor of something Hawks considered far more entertaining.

A classically structured western and one that—as the antithesis to the increasingly dark but brilliant works of Ford (like my personal Wayne/Ford favorite The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance) that didn’t give Wayne a whole lot to do—Hawks' film used a far more comedic, fast-paced structure that true to form, Hawks would add to on-shoot sitting in his chair and rewriting lines on yellow legal pads during filming.

As cinema scholar, filmmaker, and indeed commentary track contributor Peter Bogdanovich revealed--in one of two commentary tracks included on El Dorado’s most recent Paramount release—Hawks, who didn’t direct actors too much other than telling them to just pick up the pace, never wanted to linger over action and preferred to instead making his violence fast and economical without lingering over it, for example in the way that era’s up-and-comer Sam Peckinpah did in The Wild Bunch.

This is evidenced throughout the rather simple tale of Wayne’s hired gun who—upon realizing that El Dorado’s town sheriff is his old friend J.P. Harrah (Mitchum, basically taking on Dean Martin’s Bravo role)—turns down the offer to work for Ed Asner’s greedy land owner who’s violently strong-arming the local MacDonald family.

After gunplay erupts and time passes, Wayne’s Cole Thornton and his new knife-throwing vengeance-filled sidekick Mississippi (a dynamite James Caan in a better role than Nelson’s in Bravo)-- who can’t shoot a gun to save his or anyone’s life-- ultimately end up joining Harrah. With Mississippi in tow whom he’s fixed with a sawed-off shotgun to try and help even out his new friend’s weakness, Thornton returns out of friendship and loyalty when he discovers that his colleague has not only become a heartbroken “tin star with a…drunk pinned on it” but that Asner’s Bart Jason has recruited one of the best gunman in the area in the form of Christopher George’s Nelse McLeod.

While they weren’t exactly attempting to reinvent the wheel and upon its delayed release the very traditional studio picture became a surprise box office hit in the wake of a studio and Hollywood filmmaking atmosphere that had definitely begun to change to the era of ‘70s auteurs like Bogdanovich, Scorsese, Coppola, De Palma and others—it still holds up as an enormously entertaining work to this day.

Intriguingly, although he’d be crucified for it now, Hawks’ defiance of logic and geography was bold as brass throughout. In El Dorado, for the sake of a better shot, Mitchum switched which side he uses a crutch on throughout which resulted in hilarious problems in continuity that prompted a great line by former continuity expert Wayne in the final cut and likewise, he abandoned reason in having the men double back around town in a chase sequence that doesn’t really make a whole lot of geographical sense. However, in this case it's all completely forgiven.

This is owed as much to the overall excitement of the film and our reverence of all involved spouting spirited quips and undergoing some pretty great pratfalls (especially via a few humdingers by Mitchum that display his little-known comic side) as it is to the fact that Hawks was definitely right in his assertion that it’s always okay to let characters wander around. And this is especially easy to "fake" when a majority of the picture occurs at night to hide the gaffes and ratchet up the tension.

Filled with impressively lit night shots that resulted into a critical disagreement when Roger Ebert playfully suggested that Ms. Pauline Kael needed to have “her glasses scrubbed” when she penned an exaggerated complaint to the contrary, there’s a tremendous standout in the picture that finds the men slowly meandering through the streets, guns out and ready to take down a killer. However, as Bogdanovich noted it is filled with reaction shots that are more about Wayne and Mitchum’s relationship and less about getting the bad guy in the end.

In a terrific sequence that—like Dean’s in Bravo—finds Mitchum having to prove his mettle by no longer further embarrassing himself in a bar shootout—Hawks simply lets the men wander for what must have been more than a dozen minutes. In doing so, they stalk all around town, church bells are used to curious effect and despite the large absence of fast-paced jokes, they still manage to work in a great line and gag when Caan’s Mississippi “hits” a bad guy not with the gun but by shooting a sign that hits him instead.

The result is pure Hawksian western poetry (that also includes its Edgar Allan Poe namesake in the poem quoted by Caan) with its depiction of a group of male outsiders coming together to try and set things right. Additionally, much to Brackett’s credit in improving upon the role that Angie Dickinson played in Bravo, she offers not one but two superbly written characters for actresses Charlene Holt and Michele Carey, ensuring that although you’ll never mistake the look and feel of a Hawks western for the mid to late 1960s filmmaking going on elsewhere, at least on some levels (despite one horrible Asian caricature scene) the film tried to change with the time.

And in fact, the lovely Michele Carey (one in a long line of Hawks’ favored memorably voiced brunettes) actually gets the chance to legitimately become a part of the gang by the end in a great shootout that likewise includes a nice twist on Hawks’ and Duke’s thematic and conversational emphasis of “professional courtesy” in a final showdown.

El Dorado was released as part of Paramount’s ongoing 2-Disc Centennial Collection titles in tandem with their other Duke offering—John Ford’s The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. And while the widescreen print looks gorgeous and sounds dynamic (watching as I did in its original Mono as opposed to an enhanced Dolby Digital), in addition to the commentaries and a beautiful full-color booklet of facts and photos, the second disc features a seven-part documentary on the film along with galleries, the vintage trailer and featurette on the American west artwork included as well as a remembrance of John “Duke” Wayne.