Post by Eddie Love on Aug 26, 2010 14:31:55 GMT -5
***CONTAINS SPOILERS***
For Western fans, stumbling across Robert Aldrich’s 1954 Western VERA CRUZ is akin to a major anthropological find. Buried within its rowdy fun are many of the elements that would find flower during the Italian Western boom of the 1960s. It’s not surprising that the film was hailed upon its release by Francois Truffaut and was cited as a singular influence on Sergio Leone.
The plot involves former Civil War soldiers and outlaws – essentially mercenaries – descending on Mexico in order to fight for whichever side is willing to pay them more. (If you’re looking for a critique of the US’ feckless foreign policy during the Eisenhower years, this serves nicely.) Two of the Americans are a former Confederate officer (Gary Cooper) and a spectacularly unscrupulous and charismatic outlaw (Burt Lancaster). The two strike up an uneasy alliance as they agreed to fight on the side of the Emperor Maximilian’s forces against the Mexican populace aligning themselves with Juarez. Ulterior motives concerning women and gold soon complicate the picture and test the two men’s bond.
When these complications play out, the picture feels more like an Elmore Leonard novel than other Westerns of the times. In fact, it feels very similar to the Leonard novel CUBA LIBRE. Characters’’ natures are revealed during double and triple crosses.
At the center of all the duplicitous goings-on is Lancaster as the black-clad outlaw. He’s in full grin mode here, and the film works only as long as we believe the line of bull he lays on his outlaw band, his wary partner Cooper and the high-class beauty he romances. He’s clearly a precursor to the anti-heroes we see in the coming decades. In the final 5 minutes of the picture, Lancaster betrays the woman he’s supposed to love, kills the one sympathetic member of his gang and then faces off against Cooper. This is just minutes after Lancaster's killed the main villain when the guy's on the ground, unarmed. All this is pretty shocking, and while I’m not a film historian, I have to believe this was unique – having the rouge-ish lead turn into the villain in the film’s final minutes, while having his actions remain entirely within the realm of the character and performance as it's been laid out. Pretty radical and amazing.
Unlike almost any other major film star, here and elsewhere Gary Cooper seems to convey an almost instinctive lack of innate intelligence. His affect projects that of a strong, likable and valiant dumb-ass. He comes across as almost neurotic in his tentativeness, -- a man of action who’s afraid of making a decision. It’s a fascinating contrast to John Wayne’s implacable rigidity, and it’s not to suggest he’s uninteresting – this all makes him fascinating to watch. And all this works perfectly with the dynamic with Lancaster. You buy the fact that Coop would trust this guy repeatedly, all evidence to the contrary. (It’s similar to the Washington-Hawke relationship in TRAINING DAY.)
Robert Aldrich handles the action with the a fast-cutting style that’s a little ahead of it’s time. There are also quite lavish and colorful scenes with the Emperor’s palatial estate. At other points Aldrich employs some epic reveals of the Mexican peasant army.
This film was also notable for the fact that it was filmed on location in Mexico, and legend has it that nation’s government were so appalled by the portrait of Mexicans they later required exacting oversight of the filming of THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN.
VERA CRUZ reminds me of a couple other Westerns from the 50s – GUNFIGHT AT THE O.K. CORAL and SEVEN MEN FROM NOW – in that the filmmakers cover their bases by having a tall-in-the-saddle, conventional Western hero. But they spike the drink with a shot of charismatic anti-heroics in the form of a second lead, perhaps the only way they could get away with this in those conformist days. I’m not sure it was done as daringly – or as early – as it is here.
For Western fans, stumbling across Robert Aldrich’s 1954 Western VERA CRUZ is akin to a major anthropological find. Buried within its rowdy fun are many of the elements that would find flower during the Italian Western boom of the 1960s. It’s not surprising that the film was hailed upon its release by Francois Truffaut and was cited as a singular influence on Sergio Leone.
The plot involves former Civil War soldiers and outlaws – essentially mercenaries – descending on Mexico in order to fight for whichever side is willing to pay them more. (If you’re looking for a critique of the US’ feckless foreign policy during the Eisenhower years, this serves nicely.) Two of the Americans are a former Confederate officer (Gary Cooper) and a spectacularly unscrupulous and charismatic outlaw (Burt Lancaster). The two strike up an uneasy alliance as they agreed to fight on the side of the Emperor Maximilian’s forces against the Mexican populace aligning themselves with Juarez. Ulterior motives concerning women and gold soon complicate the picture and test the two men’s bond.
When these complications play out, the picture feels more like an Elmore Leonard novel than other Westerns of the times. In fact, it feels very similar to the Leonard novel CUBA LIBRE. Characters’’ natures are revealed during double and triple crosses.
At the center of all the duplicitous goings-on is Lancaster as the black-clad outlaw. He’s in full grin mode here, and the film works only as long as we believe the line of bull he lays on his outlaw band, his wary partner Cooper and the high-class beauty he romances. He’s clearly a precursor to the anti-heroes we see in the coming decades. In the final 5 minutes of the picture, Lancaster betrays the woman he’s supposed to love, kills the one sympathetic member of his gang and then faces off against Cooper. This is just minutes after Lancaster's killed the main villain when the guy's on the ground, unarmed. All this is pretty shocking, and while I’m not a film historian, I have to believe this was unique – having the rouge-ish lead turn into the villain in the film’s final minutes, while having his actions remain entirely within the realm of the character and performance as it's been laid out. Pretty radical and amazing.
Unlike almost any other major film star, here and elsewhere Gary Cooper seems to convey an almost instinctive lack of innate intelligence. His affect projects that of a strong, likable and valiant dumb-ass. He comes across as almost neurotic in his tentativeness, -- a man of action who’s afraid of making a decision. It’s a fascinating contrast to John Wayne’s implacable rigidity, and it’s not to suggest he’s uninteresting – this all makes him fascinating to watch. And all this works perfectly with the dynamic with Lancaster. You buy the fact that Coop would trust this guy repeatedly, all evidence to the contrary. (It’s similar to the Washington-Hawke relationship in TRAINING DAY.)
Robert Aldrich handles the action with the a fast-cutting style that’s a little ahead of it’s time. There are also quite lavish and colorful scenes with the Emperor’s palatial estate. At other points Aldrich employs some epic reveals of the Mexican peasant army.
This film was also notable for the fact that it was filmed on location in Mexico, and legend has it that nation’s government were so appalled by the portrait of Mexicans they later required exacting oversight of the filming of THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN.
VERA CRUZ reminds me of a couple other Westerns from the 50s – GUNFIGHT AT THE O.K. CORAL and SEVEN MEN FROM NOW – in that the filmmakers cover their bases by having a tall-in-the-saddle, conventional Western hero. But they spike the drink with a shot of charismatic anti-heroics in the form of a second lead, perhaps the only way they could get away with this in those conformist days. I’m not sure it was done as daringly – or as early – as it is here.