Project: 100 Westerns: Part Ten: Slow West; West of the Pecos; Jonah Hex; Dead Man

Dear gunfighters,

Four more movies have been complied in Project: 100 Westerns!

While in past write-ups I’ve claimed that I don’t really have a methodology of the movie picks, I realized that’s a bit of a lie. While I don’t normally select based on subgenre or the talent in front of or behind the camera, I definitely try to divvy my choices up by decade. I like the get a cross sample of the different eras of Hollywood, and Westerns are a fantastic time capsule for this.

In this group I definitely slanted toward newer releases… Let’s see how it went!


#36. Slow West (2015)

In 1870, a lovesick boy and a bounty hunter travel through Colorado to find the boy’s crush, but the bounty hunter has other plans…

It’s sort of wild this movie has been out for ten years, as it still feels somewhat new to me. Starring Kodi Smit-McPhee and Michael Fassbender, this wandering low-budget Western with a revisionist slant is methodical in its gait. Not a whole lot happens plot-wise, but it somehow feels full and complete nonetheless.

A lot of the drive behind the endeavor is fueled by the interactions between the naive but determined Jay and the wise but jaded Silas. This is hardly the first Western to team up two disparate souls but the reluctant camaraderie between the two provide the plot with enough juice to reach the end goal. The central tension of Silas tracking down Jay’s object of affection, Rose Ross (Caren Pistorius), while the younger man tries to wrangle his emotions is a pretty damn good hook.

While there at lot of aesthetics that feel ripped from Spaghetti Westerns, including wonderful accents and wacky, messy characters, what differentiates this movie from most others is the choice of color palette. There’s sort of this oversaturated thing going on here. The brightness and severe tone of everything are dreamlike and almost nauseating, there’s a certain unnaturalness to it that goes counter to the drab and muted style that the genre is known for. It’s a daring choice but sways well with the mismatched duo of Jay and Silas.

Slow West is a pretty good film, and a quick watch too. It was sort of a critical darling there when it came out but doesn’t get the flowers it deserves as one of the better modern Westerns.


#37. West of the Pecos (1945)

A young Robert Mitchum stars in this Texas-set story about a wealthy man and his daughter moving West and getting caught up in the drama of the frontier. Frankly, the beats of this movie are neither compelling or original. There’s a stagecoach robbery that happens in the beginning and it drives some story movement but really it serves as the branch for the foliage of love to sprout.

There’s a hardy comedic bend to the going-ons here. This Zane Grey adaptation kicks off in Chicago where Colonel Lambreth (Thurston Hall) is convinced by his daughter Rill (Barbara Hale) to move West to ease his deteriorating health. Quickly upon arrival, they are pulled into the life of Pecos Smith (Mitchum), a charming cowboy with a hardened edge. What stirs the drink is that Rill, after being harassed in town, decides to disguise herself as a man which creates a humorously tense relationship with Pecos as she flirtatiously challenges him at every turn. There’s a sort of a queerness to the story that works really well, even by modern sensibilities.

I do want to note here the role of the comical Chito Rafferty, played by Richard Martin. When I was looking up the background on West of the Pecos I discovered Chito appears in over 30 different movies, all played by Martin. The Mexican-Irish sidekick not only appears all over the West and abroad, but in several different time settings. Whenever gripes about comic book movie reboots or re-castings of legacy characters I can now point to the Chito Cinematic Universe as an example of the intelligence of audiences, even way back when.

The movie does a good enough job – it’s got the lightness of a classic Western with a dose of peril to keep the viewer on their toes.


#38. Jonah Hex (2010)

Josh Brolin, Megan Fox, John Malkovich, Will Arnett, Michael Fassbender (again), Michael Shannon, Lance Reddick, Jeffrey Dean Morgan.

Yep, this is one of the most squandered casts of all time.

DC Comics’ Jonah Hex is very likely the premiere comic book Western character (and a huge inspiration for the All-True Outlaw comics). Created in the ‘70s, the adventures of the ex-Confederate bounty hunter were catalogued in comics All-Star Western and Weird Western Tales. Later, cementing his appeal, Jonah was catapulted into increasingly odd scenarios, like post-apocalyptic futures and zombie-horror jaunts. The character always has had a slick relationship with the amazing and the occult, but absolutely can excel in more grounded realms too.

This concept was lost on the production team behind Jonah Hex, where nearly every aspect of the movie is dialed up to eleven. In an attempt to invoke the spectacle of the four-colored world, Hex can (somehow) speak to corpses, gunshots propel victims across rooms and explosions rupture from seemingly nowhere. The tropes of the West are overly baroque and severe. It’s like the European Western on Super Soldier Serum. This flick somehow learned the wrong lessons of Wild, Wild West, all while hitting a lot of similar story beats. Probably the most egregious thing, though? It’s set in the South! There’s this underlying post-Civil War commentary that does not land at all.

It’s essentially Red Dead Redemption: The Movie, which coincidentally debuted the same year. The actors move sort of like stiff NPCs, the internal physics are bombastic, and there’s outlandish oddities like an underground fight club featuring a snake-man from “halfway across the world”.

It’s pretty much universally understood to be a very bad movie, and going in knowing that…I actually sort of like it more than I did seeing it for the first time about fifteen years ago. It’s just an absurd piece of art, a twistedly misguided homage to both films and comics, and with generally good performances across the board, you could do worse in the genre.


#39. Dead Man (1995)

“Every night and every morn’, Some to misery are born, Every morn’ and every night, Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night.”

The cult classic Dead Man, directed by Jim Jarmusch, is sort of a herald of the type of Western that would be popular for the next couple decades. Artsy, thoughtful, with a heavy swath of weirdness, it marries the old films of the American frontier with modern technique.

This is where the descriptor labels before the word “Western” gets muddled. The term “Acid Western” applies here, for sure – it’s very likely the epitome of that subgenre. But it also skitters into “neo-Western” territory. From casting choices to soundtrack to literary allusions, it’s a piece that portends the future of filmmaking. There’s a lot to admire here, but also, damn this thing is just a bit full of itself.

Scenes drag on a great deal longer than they need; the tone whips you around like a ride on a bucking bronco; the characters pontificate and monologue just for the sake of filling the air with sound. There’s a lot about Dead Man that I didn’t “get”, which in some ways makes it an fantastic Acid Western, but not a great movie.

Johnny Depp stars as William Blake, a numbers-man from Cleveland who relocates to the West for a job but quickly finds himself in peril when he murders a man in self-defense. He takes a shot to the chest and flees, only to be found by Nobody (Gary Farmer), a sorta-exiled Native brimming with thoughts of wisdom. Nobody informs Blake that the still-lodged bullet will kill him soon enough and the pall of death hangs over Blake in every step and action. The audience is on a ride along toward his inevitable death.

The movie is littered with a heap of good-to-great performances. Most notable is Robert Mitchum, in his final film role, as the town boss, but we also get great (albeit brief) stuff from Billy Bob Thornton, Alfred Molina, Michael Wincott, Crispin Glover and others. Depp is pretty good, as well, though he’s so confused and reactive in this that he’s more a good scene partner for the other actors than a leading man.

Neil Young provides the soundtrack with the very improvisational approach of riffing on his electric guitar, which adds a lot to the overall disjointed, stumbling nature of the whole affair.

I didn’t love this movie, but also think it’s a near must-watch for Western fans. It does a lot with a little, even if it has you checking your watch occasionally.


We’re chugging along like a brand-new locomotive here. Return to our pasture on October 6th, 2025 for a Western comic much in the build of some of these movies we just reviewed.

 

Westward!

 

~Jamil

Project: 100 Westerns: Part Two: Five for Revenge, El Diablo, The Wonderful Country and There Will Be Blood

Hello Westheads,

This is the 2nd entry in Project: 100 Westerns. Where I, a man with many creative responsibilities,  attempt to watch 100 Westerns in about a year. Ambitious, or stupid? Both? You decide!

As stated before, there’s no particular rhyme or reason to my picks. I just scroll through one the many streaming apps and if something seems Western enough I hit “Play”. If you have suggestions on can’t-miss movies in the genre, let me know!


#4. Five For Revenge (1966)

A shirtless man stands with guns in each hand as a Mexican woman poses at his feet.

A patient, choppy Spaghetti Western with a simple premise:  After Jim Lattimore is murdered by his Mexican in-laws, a group of five men gather to enact revenge. 

Guy Madison stars and Aldo Florio directs in what is a roughly edited late-bloomer of a movie. A lot of Five for Revenge, alternatively titled Five Giants from Texas, is told between the (poorly dubbed) dialogue. It’s very deliberate piece, at times forcing the viewer to stew in the nastiness of this affair, from the murders to the rapes to the torture to the severe and twangy soundtrack. 

First off: the sound direction is not good. Too much stop and go, too many jolts of volume. There seems to have been an intent to create suspense with the horns and toots but coupled with some ragged jump-cuts it leaves the viewer jarred. It’s pretty apparent this is Florio’s first attempt at directing. 

The then-budding Western trope of using a number to spice up your title draws you in, but what’s funny is the “”Five” are a quintet of the chillest dudes in the Old West. The Five work in relative quiet coordination, they greet each other with looks and nods, direct each other with intuition and familiarity. We have little idea of the nature of the apparent bloodpact between them all. They come in different shapes and skin tones but they’re a unit. It’s cool on paper, but nonchalant revenge-seekers taking care of biz doesn’t pop on the screen.

Despite the poster’s promise, Madison’s shirt remains on for the duration of the flick. The former Wild Bill Hickok is adequate in this, confused-looking mostly, like the character doesn’t understand the world’s violence. He sort of moves like the Terminator, completing each terrible task until the revenge mission is complete. Though he forms a little bit of chemistry with Jim’s gorgeous widow, Rosalita (Mónica Randall), it’s essentially dressing for a murderous affair. 

What pulls the movie together is the bullet barrage at the end. The lulls and valleys of the first and second act set up the payoff of the finale’s mayhem. It’s not like total fireworks of blood or anything but the familiar festivity of a SW emerges when John and dem boys walk into the lair of the Gonzales Bros and start lighting up background actors. John’s showdown with the film’s big bad is probably the best bit of the whole affair. 

Ultimately: It’s a movie that punishes you, then throws a big ugly, fun party at the end.


#5. El Diablo (1990)

The poster for El Diablo, a schoolteacher holds a gun while a mercenary watches on helpfully

Comedy Westerns are a hard sell. It’s already hard enough being funny, so setting a story in a certain time or place is a whole other bundle of complications. Blazing Saddles did it well but that was flash-in-the-pan success with some all-timer writing and performances. El Diablo never had a chance, in that regard.

You’ll see this movie floating around HBO (app and channel) from time to time. I never really gave it much consideration until I saw the cast list:

Louis Gossett Jr., Anthony Edwards, Joe Pantoliano, John Glover, Robert Beltran, Jim Beaver, Branscombe Richmond, Miguel Sandoval. It’s a robust lineup of guys who’ll have you shouting “Hey, it’s whatshisnuts!” at your screen. 

This made-for-TV movie is actually a lot more sleek and well-produced than you’d expect. The sets and locales are authentic and there doesn’t seem to be too much of an issue with budget-related matters. The acting is more than good. When this was made the cast was probably considered second and third-tier talents, but I think most of us now understand that the career actors of TV land are some of the most skilled in the trade. 

Maybe the most interesting tidbit about this movie is that it’s a rework of a John Carpenter script. That’s sort of fascinating because you can sense maybe some of the master’s fingerprints on this movie: it’s a bit morbid and matter-of-fact, the characters are seedy and action-oriented, but it’s simply unlike anything from his body of work. The script (with input from Tommy Lee Wallace and Bill Phillips) is just OK, there’s nothing surprising or fantastic going on plotwise, but it hits all the vital beats.

The real jewel is Gossett Jr. as Thomas Van Leek. A sort of bummy gunslinger, he assists the main character, Billy Ray (Edwards) in trying to take down the notorious woman-abducting El Diablo (Beltran). They (very quickly) assemble a ragtag group of ne’er-do-wells and then tumble into a final violent confrontation. Gossett is a real delight in his every scene. He’s untrustworthy but charming, clever but simple. Van Leek is well past his prime yet perfectly built for the “real” West, relating to Billy Ray, “I ain’t as fast as I was, but I cheat real good.”

The rest of the cast carries this along pretty well. Edwards struggles as the lead even though he plays the buffoonish antihero as intended. Others, like Glover as a swindling preacher, and Pantoliano, playing a dainty dime novel writer – aggressively against his career archetype – do enough to push the scenes along. 

My main takeaway: There’s a few mentions to the idea that a Western “hero” like Van Leek is not palatable to the late 1800s audience Joey Pants’ character writes for, but that theme applies to this movie’s focus too. Gossett Jr. should’ve got way more screen time, he was great.

If you’re trying to milk that MAX subscription this movie may be worth the hour-forty-five runtime. Ultimately though, it’s not funny or clever enough to succeed in the Comedy Western genre, despite being a decent enough Western. Without the right tone, the savagery of the genre is hard to square with laughter. I mean, the plot impetus for this one is the abduction of a schoolgirl and the movie sort of glosses over the apparent rape and trauma perpetrated by El Diablo. Hah, crimes!


#6. The Wonderful Country (1959)

movie poster for The Wonderful Country depicting Robert's Mitchum profile and a pretty horizon

First, the movie looks incredible. Wowee. The location team earned their dollar, definitely. The vistas, valleys and views of The Wonderful Country superbly showcase the terrain of the US-Mexico border. Director Robert Parrish, a filmmaker sired by several roles, knows where to place the camera. 

As much as I can tell you what I saw, I cannot really tell you what I watched. The movie is a thin broth stew of underdeveloped ideas and erratic character movement. It’s a de facto love story: expatriate Martin Brady (Robert Mitchum) enters into a flirty jig with a Major’s bored wife (Julie London)…and then moseys into something of an antihero tale. It’s murky. 

Though the choice of accent is questionable, Mitchum brings some of that patented noir coolness to the role of Brady. Having fled his home country following the murder of his father’s killer, Brady is now a chillax pistolero working for power-hungry Mexican brothers. He doesn’t seem too emotionally invested in anything, but brightens when in the company of Helen Colton. Before they can get to know each other too intimately, the plot yanks him back to Mexico, putting Brady in soft peril until it appears he’s again on the path to (mild) redemption and (implied) happiness. 

That’s sorta it. The spark between the two leads barely flickers as their screen time is limited by the other pieces of the plot. There’s an Army/Apache fight in there that sort of rips through a scene, and Satchel Paige (playing a soldier) saunters in randomly as well, just to give the movie a quirky footnote. This was the era of pumping out Westerns for cinema fodder, so it makes sense some came out undercooked. 

The bones of a good film are in there somewhere but there’s not enough meat to really make it worth the venture. However, if you like Michum or London, it may be worth a viewing, they both give adequate performances.


#7. There Will Be Blood (2007)

Movie poster for There Will Be Blood

For me, the Western genre can be bifurcated into two broad categories: “Actual” Westerns: Cowboys, wagons, cattle, vengeance, revolvers, vistas composed of dust, grass or snow, etc. And the counterpart, “spiritual” Western, which takes a few of these elements and imprints them onto a movie about something else. It’s a spectrum of course, more an inverted bell curve – most Westerns, actual or spiritual, are clearly defined.

So which type of Western is There Will Be Blood

TWBB (much like its spiritual predecessor, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre)  exists just inside the membrane of actual Westerns. Primarily set in 1911 California, the film is an intense examination of greed and determination in mid-American history. Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis) is an “oilman”, a hawkish energy magnate on a quest to tame the earth and milk her resources. As we follow the most important years of his career, we also witness his questionable parenting of an adopted son, his quirkily adversarial relationship with a small-town preacher and the terrible lengths he’ll go to acclimate wealth. 

We rarely see the appearance of “robber barons” in the Western genres. Their little cousin, the “town boss”,  the wealthy figure controlling a community, are a staple of the actual Western. However, the dukes of 19th century America don’t get much attention, despite names like Carnegie, Vanderbilt, and Morgan shaping the nation’s history. In fact, you’ll more likely see a movie (1937’s Wells Fargo) praising these folks rather than scrutinizing them

It’s after the wildness of the West is tamed that men like Plainview swooped in and soaked the raw vitality straight from the ground. TWBB is about the exploitation of the American frontier and its denizens, swindled into social contracts under the guise of shared prosperity. Plainview knows he’s dealing with the “common clay” yet molds it unapologetically, and doesn’t meet opposition until a similarly cunning manipulator throws a few firecrackers at his feet. 

It doesn’t hurt that I really love the movie, which I consider one of the finest of the ‘00s. I understand it’s not to everyone’s tastes, it’s narrowly-plotted with a noisy soundtrack, pale tones and a grouchy theme. Still, director Paul Thomas Anderson is brilliant at framing and pacing a film, and Day-Lewis is an absolute force in an all-time role (though I do prefer Bill the Butcher a tad more). Paul Dano is fantastic as well. 

Why wouldn’t the Western genre want to claim this movie? It’s great, and a haunting sequel to the Wild West chapter of American history.


That is it for this 2nd entry of Project: One Hundred Westerns, see you next week with another installment, and be sure to check back February 3rd, 2025 for a new comic.

Westward!

 

~Jamil