High Plains Drifter.

Review #1831: High Plains Drifter.

Cast: 

Clint Eastwood (The Stranger), Verna Bloom (Sarah Belding), Mariana Hill (Callie Travers), Billy Curtis (Mordecai), Mitchell Ryan (Dave Drake), Jack Ging (Morgan Allen), Stefan Gierasch (Mayor Jason Hobart), Ted Hartley (Lewis Belding), Geoffrey Lewis (Stacey Bridges), Dan Vadis (Dan Carlin), Anthony James (Cole Carlin), Walter Barnes (Sheriff Sam Shaw), Paul Brinegar (Lutie Naylor), Richard Bull (Asa Goodwin), Robert Donner (Preacher), John Hillerman (Bootmaker), John Quade (Freight Wagon Operator), and Buddy Van Horn (Marshal Jim Duncan) Directed by Clint Eastwood (#1252 - Space Cowboys, #1310 - Million Dollar Baby, #1476 - Pale Rider, #1501 - Unforgiven, #1550 - Gran Torino, #1638 - Bird, #1757 - Sudden Impact)

Review: 

"The townspeople did not represent the true spirit of the American pioneer, the spirit that made America great." 

It's interesting to consider the reactions one can have over a Western that dared to do something different with the genre, if only because not many Westerns get criticized by a Western icon - because that quote above is by John Wayne, referring to this feature film, which was the first Western directed by Clint Eastwood (apparently, he had sent a letter to Wayne after this film was released to perhaps star together on a film - go figure). This was his second feature, with the first having been Play Misty for Me (1971), and Eastwood would end up directing a total of six features in the 1970s (all but one featured him as star). Of course, Eastwood had plenty of time to incorporate his vision of the Western hero with six seasons of Rawhide and stardom in Sergio Leone's "Man with No Name" trilogy around him. It wasn't even the first starring feature of his to feature a lead character dedicated to serving some sort of retribution to others that had brought upon him, as could be evidenced by Hang 'Em High (1968). Eastwood's influences in Don Siegel and Sergio Leone prove apparent here, probably helped by the fact that Eastwood included their names on gravestones in the film. The film was evidently inspired by a murder in 1964 of Kitty Genovese, who reporters had said numerous people heard or saw the crime from their apartment building but did nothing (of course, this report was later found to be highly inaccurate). Ernest Tidyman, who had won an Academy Award for his work on The French Connection (1971), wrote the screenplay, although Dean Riesner (a writer on numerous Eastwood films) provided key re-writes.

It's too bad that Wayne thought there was some sort of disagreeable element to making a portrayal of the Old West that differed from what had been seen in dozens of films before it (perhaps he saw something in this film that reminded him of High Noon (1952) when it comes to examining one's conscience, since Wayne also disliked that movie). Well, at least the ones before The Wild Bunch (1969), anyway, because heaven knows the genre has only managed to have one or two highlights in the next couple of decades, and High Plains Drifter is probably one to spotlight for the 1970s, paranoia and all. I welcome any kind of movie that has interest in showing the fear of a town in what they know about themselves, where trying to teach a town courage ends up exposing a lack of moral courage from before. Of course, this is a movie that makes itself starkly different from other films with its hero in the first 25 minutes, so there is that to consider. Eastwood has made an effective film here, one filled with iconoclastic spirit that points the mirror firmly at oneself when it comes to showing conscience and justice. It isn't surprising that the script proposal presented to Eastwood was offbeat enough for him to like it, because it is a lead role that continues what Eastwood liked to do best: the less one says, the stronger one becomes in the imagination of the audience. This results in an efficient production and performance, one that maneuvers his way through with raw enigmatic energy; interestingly, the original script had him as the brother of a marshal, but this was changed to something that could lend itself to discussion. The rest of the cast follows along with worthy reflection, most notably with Curtis. While most of the folks here are representations of the ooze of the morals in town, Curtis is different even when presented as a yes-man to the folks around him, if only because of his eyes, ones that have seen pain despite plenty of friendliness to go around. Bloom is the only other one with a semblance of conscience here, one that eventually festers to the surface that results in a few interesting moments shared with Eastwood, while Hill represents the other side of feminine influence in the town of alleged morals with proper wiles. Ryan is the other highlight among the smarmy folks, one who serves as the ideal conniving presence without having to chew scenery to do so, with the others following along in that regard. Lewis, Vadis, and James do well as the adversaries in simple ruthlessness without needing to see more than what is needed. If you think about it, Pale Rider (1985) is the cousin to this feature when it comes to long & tall mysterious strangers arising from somewhere in a small town, but I think High Plains Drifter is slightly better, if only because it has a jagged edge of humor and allegory that makes its result all the more whole, one that utilizes its 105 minute run-time for gratifying effect in haunting display, complete with a Dee Barton music score to generate a first-rate Western. It isn't perfect, but it makes a worthy first impression when looking on the career of Clint Eastwood - the star and director.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Note: This one was for Dad.

The Terror of Tiny Town.

Review #1597: The Terror of Tiny Town.

Cast:

Billy Curtis (Buck Lawson), Yvonne Moray (Nancy Preston), Little Billy Rhodes (Bat Haines), Billy Platt (Jim 'Tex' Preston), John T. Bambury (Pop Lawson), Joseph Herbst (The Sheriff), Charlie Becker (Otto the Cook), Nita Krebs (Nita), George Ministeri (Armstrong), Karl Karchy Kosiczky (Sammy), and Fern Formica (Diamond Dolly) Directed by Sam Newfield (#436 - Dead Men Walk)

Review:

“When I was first offered the role of the sheriff, they didn’t want to pay my established salary. Then we were all directed like we were children. Small, in the minds of stupid people, is kiddie stuff. So first they try to exploit little people. Then they patronize you. And when the picture comes out, then the audience laughs at you. Why? Not because we were low budget, because most westerns then were Bs. Because we rode ponies. What would a person my size ride – a stallion? I played the good guy who put the bad guy behind bars at the end – just like John Wayne. And I kissed the pretty girl – just like he did. So what the hell’s so funny?”

Truly, I can say without any doubt in my mind that you have not seen anything like this. A Western with music? Sure, you have seen that before, particularly with saloon scenes...but have you seen one with an all-dwarf cast? No, you have not, unless you like to specialize in the smallest of the barrel public domain features, or you just happen to like something offbeat. Supposedly, the film was inspired by a comment made about with a continued low economy, filmmakers could have to use "midgets for actors." The film was directed by Sam Newfield, who while not exactly known as a great director was known for one thing: making movies and making lots of them. From 1933 to 1958, he reportedly made over 200 feature films, with his foray also including shorts and other various B-projects, which were generally spent with Producers Releasing Corporation (also known as PRC Pictures; his brother Sigmund Neufeld generally served as a producer on those films), where he even made films under a fake name to hide his considerable presence over PRC films. In 1938 alone, he made fifteen feature films. Incidentally, One film he had done with Jed Buell the previous year was Harlem on the Prairie (1937), which featured popular singer Herbert Jeffrey as a singing cowboy in the first black Western musical. With this feature, it was made for roughly $100,000, and it managed to find itself distributed by Columbia Pictures, and Buell actually wanted to make a whole series of films with dwarf actors, including one about the Paul Bunyan myth...wrap your head around that. Fred Myton wrote the film, with Clarence Marks providing additional dialogue, which is who one can cite for such...interesting dialogue, such as referring to "big orders" or "getting smallpox from him", and so on and so forth. If one can get behind occasional songs (I am generally not familiar with the singing cowboy archetype), including some dubious dubbing, here is...an offering?

Honestly, the only reason to even think about the film at all for coverage is to wonder exactly how far they will go with this film about a dwarf Western. Oh you better believe they drag themselves all the way to the natural conclusion, reflected by its 62 minute run-time. Did you ever want to see people ride Shetland ponies? Or how about entering a bar by going under the door? Welp, here's your big chance to see all that and not much else in a pretty stale feature. You may or may not get a weird chuckle at seeing anyone ride a Shetland pony for a short moment, but it is such a blandly drawn out affair, reflected by repetitive music and a plot that goes exactly the way one will see coming in its first 20 minutes (by that point, you're already a third in, so why quit?). There may be "jokes" present, but it is wrapped under such stock blandness that a usual B-movie cast would result in nearly the same film (but hey, this one has "half-pints in 10 gallon hats!" - an actual tagline used on release), mostly because Placeritos Ranch (in Placerita Canyon, California) probably wouldn't seem so vast in size here. Curtis was once described as "handsome" alongside "quite arrogant", mostly because he had quite a bit of success when it came to vaudeville (he would act for roughly 50 years before his death). He, alongside Rhodes, Bambury, Herbst, Becker, Krebs, Ministeri, Formica, and O'Docharty, would later have parts as Munchkins in The Wizard of Oz (1939). Everyone is pretty flat here, but at least he was proud of his role (as stated by that quote listed here, although its last statement isn't actually accurate - the bad guy dies due to dynamite exploding on him). They might not be great actors, but at least no one seems like they want to clown for scenery points (although Becker is used for silly moments, like trying to chase a duck down for food). Although presented as part of Buell's company of little people, a selection of the actors were actually part of Singer's Midgets, a performing troupe formed by Leo Singer that had popularity in its time of the early 20th century (this was also the case for The Wizard of Oz, which had over a hundred dwarf actors featured). Would you call this exploitation? Aside from a bubble of slapstick humor and a weird little opening that talks about the "novelty picture" one is about to see, everything is done with cut and dry size, which means it is best suited for those wanting to watch something curious that will be weird without thinking they are watching some actor or crew is being treated terribly. Is it the worst film ever? Of course not, but it sure is a turkey film, bland in all but its main sticking point to be remembered for after eight decades. Truly, a stinker can come in all shapes and sizes.

Overall, I give it 3 out of 10 stars.

Surprise! There has been a diverse bit of films covered over the month of November in the prevailing years, although according to my records the first one to be covered on Thanksgiving Day was Bon Voyage, Charlie Brown (and Don't Come Back!!) (#489, in 2013). Home Sweet Home (#669, 2014), and Monster A-Go-Go (#756, 2015) followed, but its time for something interesting to mesh with the whole week leading on from Sunday to Saturday: Turkey Week, which will be dedicated to films with the reputation of being a "turkey", for better or worse. The goal is to feature at least five films from today until the 28th, and the surprise is to not know what is coming too far in advance...with the next one being: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948).