Passable entertainment riddled with problems

Rating: 6/10 (24 September 2007)

The assumption seems to be made too often nowadays that the western was 'killed', if not by the Spaghetti western boom, and if not by expensive 1980s failures such as 'Heaven's Gate', by Clint Eastwood's 'Unforgiven' in 1994, with its grimy town, unpleasant/flawed/complex characters, and relentlessly downbeat myth-busting. Not only this, but it needs to be 'reborn', and critics seem to arguing that '3:10 to Yuma' is the film to do that. At first glance, a strange movie to fulfil this mission - it's yet another Hollywood remake, though thankfully not of an absolute standout like 'High Noon'; instead, Delmer Dave's minor classic from 1957, a tense, taut little film focusing as much on characterisation and psychological drama as on gun play, which ratchets up the suspense in a way clearly influenced by 'High Noon'. At second glance, how this film could rebirth anything is a mystery. Everyone's praising the performances, from Russel Crowe as the murderous/thoughtful/charming/witty gang leader to Christian Bale as the fallen-on-hard-times/war veteran/family man/rancher who has to put him on the train to Yuma prison to Ben Foster as Crowe's psychotic, blue-eyed lieutenant (interestingly, one review I've read elsewhere suggests that Foster tries to suggest a homo-erotic edge to his character's relationship with Crowe, but Crowe's interpretation of his own role shuts this avenue off). True enough, they're good, as would be expected - but nowadays, I'm beginning to feel that a lot of 'good performances' are given not so much in service to the story and the film as to ensure an Oscar nod - cynical, I know, but it's a feeling I just can't shake off.
A major flaw is apparent in the inconsistencies that riddle the film, inconsistencies that, in a movie which is attempting to be a psychological drama as well as an action movie, strike a particularly jarring note. For instance, why does Crowe's apparently cold-blooded, ruthlessly efficient killer return to the posse, including an injured Bale, an incompetent doctor and a 14-year old boy, having just killed 3 Indians, when he could have easily got away? Why does he help Bale in the final shoot-out, when he could easily push him into the line of fire or slip round a corner and leave Bale at the gang's mercy? And finally, why does he shoot 6 gang members (in a feat of gunsmanship far more unbelievable than Clint Eastwood's in the Dollars films, or the climax to Unforgiven) when they've rescued him? Then put himself back on the prison train to Yuma...then whistle for his horse? Dude, where's the logic? And I'm not even going to start on Peter Fonda's impossibly leathery, tough old bounty hunter, who seems to be impervious to close-range stomach wounds...What's more, as well as these serious motivational and plot inaccuracies and anomalies, there are wildly over-the-top action sequences which jar with an attempt in other parts of the film to present a more 'realistic' version of the 'Wild West,' the climactic gunfight being the worst offender, closely followed by a horseback chase through a mine.
Anyway, let's go back to the assumption that the western is dead. I don't see why: of all genres, it has always seemed to me to be particularly rich, offering numerous opportunities for explorations of themes relating to masculinity, civilisation, violence, crime, the relationship of individual to community, the imposition of values in a lawless country, the development of a problematic, rough-and-ready approach to justice and morality arising out of physical necessity...etc. What's more, many of these ideas are relevant to today, as 'The Proposition' (which I think we can characterise as a western, despite the Australian setting) showed, with its exploration of colonialism. To be sure, '3:10' touches on some of these ideas. The trouble is, it touches on them in a very obvious, crude, non-naturalistic way, through dialogue that is almost psychobabble; the film-makers don't seem to have learned the lessons of old westerns which would have for blunter, less well-expressed, more homespun philosophies. I can think of two examples from Peckinpah: Joel McRea's "all I want is to enter my house justified" from 'Ride the High Country' (one line expressing so much of the motivation behind the heroes in both Peckinpah's, and other's, westerns), and William Holden's "let's go" from 'The Wild Bunch' - just two words and a glance before striding out to certain death (which could be walked away from) - the "a man's gotta do" cliché taken to its furthest extent so that's it's maybe not even a moral decision, more of an existential act of defiance.
My main criticism is that this is a conflicted film, striving at once to take the western back to something more traditional, as Kevin Costner's 'Open Range' did, and to accommodate the more excessive touches introduced by the Spaghettis and the more downbeat, 'realistic' touches which were developed to perhaps their fullest extent in 'Unforgiven' (this attempt at 'realism' is quickly subverted by the numerous far-fetched, inconsistent, nonsensical elements). Not sure whether he wants to deliver action-packed box-office Hollywood product with big stars, or a showcase for these two stars to flex their acting muscles and earn some Oscar nominations, or a serious western, Mangold in the end creates a compromise which doesn't fully realise any of these options, despite the critics' almost unanimous praise.