text: The larger-than-life figures of Wyatt Earp and Bat Masterson, and the specters of George Armstrong Custer and Sitting Bull, loom over director Anthony Mann's hugely entertaining first western with James Stewart. Although Stewart's quest to avenge his father's murder is the primary story, Winchester '73 is really an ensemble piece, with the eponymous, one-in-a-thousand firearm passing through the hands of many colorful owners, including a wry trader (John McIntire, especially great) and outlaw Dan Duryea, who's even more despicable than usual. The film's conflation of fiction and history produces a breezy pace and an ambivalent tone brilliantly in step with Mann's pared-down, compositionally rigorous film-making. His themes of psychological unrest and past dictating present faintly underlie this tall tale of good and bad men chasing after a fabled gun, but they starkly emerge in a vignette about a husband's cowardice and failed attempt at atonement, and are defined in Stewart's conversations with sidekick Millard Mitchell. Mann's use of environment is what sets him apart from other filmmakers of westerns. Instead of gazing at vistas from afar, he incorporates them into the drama as characters that redirect, complicate, or evoke the human characters' goals. Just as mountains, caves, and rapids had to be accounted for in The Naked Spur, here a gunfight occurs amidst the loose rocks and boulders of a small mountain, a physical obstruction that fatalistically determines the roles of victor and victim between two equally skilled sharpshooters. (I would be remiss in not recognizing cinematographer William H. Daniels's contribution, particularly his superlative day-for-night, open-range photography.) Not merely an adept outdoorsman, Mann presents an equally vivid picture of Wyatt Earp-patrolled Dodge City, primarily through scaled, multiple-plane staging. The shooting contest does not depend on brisk camera shifts or twitchy cuts for effect because Mann instinctively knows where to place the camera and how to move it to display the greatest density of information in a given shot. Nor does he care to spell out the plot in dialogue, relying on the actors' eyes or a well-chosen image to convey the stakes. One scene in particular serves to explain his attitude: Mitchell's telling of Stewart's motivation to Shelley Winters, which is interrupted by the climactic gunfight that soon enough reveals all. Light without feeling insubstantial, intense without being overbearing, Winchester '73 seems more modern than its contemporaries and is a joy to behold.