Charro!

[Eddie Love]

The year following his legendary 1968 Elvis! TV appearance, later dubbed The Comeback Special and a statement that reinforced his musical genius if not his relevancy, Elvis Presley returned to the big screen. In 1969 he released what would be his final three features. The first of these was a Western curiosity called (for no explicable reason) CHARRO! and if the idea was to impose his reinvigorated standing in the film world as he had effortlessly done with his musical performance, the end results fell far short.

Legend (or at least Wikipedia) has it that this Western tale was going to introduce audiences to a new, grittier Presley. Would he even possibly saddle up as the kind of anti-hero Clint Eastwood had been gaining fame playing? Indeed, the trailers from the period included on the DVD boast that this “is a new kind of role.” That may be true, but if so, it could say more about the old roles than what’s on offer here.

The set-up is reasonably sound. Elvis plays Jess Wade. (Again, I have no earthly idea why this film is called CHARRO!, the word is never uttered once.) As the film opens, Jess is an outlaw, but a nice one who is lured into an ambush at a cantina where his old gang have enticed him under the ruse that once there he’ll meet his old flame. (Who is also the former gal of the leader of his old crew and the reason Jess left said gang.) The outlaws, led by Victor French, capture Jess and drag him out into the desert. You see, they’ve stolen this gold-plated cannon the Mexicans used during their revolution and they’ve managed to have the blame pinned on Jess. They brand him with a scar across his neck proving his guilt and leave him to be hunted by authorities on both sides of the Rio Grande.



Okay, that sounds kind of promising. Elvis: a hunted man, having to prove his innocence on all sides while hunting down the gang who wronged him and winning back his lost love. I can work with that. Thing is, as soon as Elvis hits the first town he comes to, he has no problem at all convincing the law there that he’s innocent. In fact, soon he himself is effectively sheriff and readies the citizens for an attack by the gang with their solid gold cannon. That’s cause, in time-honored (or at least RIO BRAVO and EL DORADO honored) tradition, Elvis captures French’s brother and locks him up, and even though the kid is a raving, drooling moron, the gang leader won’t stop until he’s free.

One thing is certain; no one here was trying to ape the dusty, low-down looks of the European Westerns of the time. Outside of a Gene Autry or Roy Rogers vehicle this is one of the least gritty Westerns imaginable. Every costume gleams with bright primary colors as though hot off the sewing machine from the costume department. In fact, at times this looks like a Vincent Minnelli movie the colors are so eye-popping. And speaking of musicals, I nearly expected the opening shoot-out to end in a production number similar to the big set piece in The Comeback Special. All the extras in the scene are sitting around or loitering tentatively as if they’ve not been told what to do and may be asked to start kicking up their heels any minute.

There are other ways this production is rather dreamily sloppy. For instance, while the exteriors of the Western street sets are your custom backlot numbers, once we step inside, the interiors are vast soundstages completely incongruous to the structures we’ve seen outside.

This whole loopy picture has no atmosphere, no point of view, nothing looks authentic. I’d say it had more the feel of a TV show, but I think that would be an unfair slight against the broadcast Westerns of that time, no matter how tame they may have been. This picture looks more like a sitcom, like Petticoat Junction or something. The scenes have the flat, art-less taste Mel Brooks needed to set up the jokes in BLAZING SADDLES. In fact, when the outlaws shoot cannons on the town and the townsfolk extras in their spotless Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes seem unsure how to respond, the scene could almost seem like an outtake from Brooks’ film.

When you watch Elvis! there’s no escaping his magnetism. He’s a man who relishes his easy mastery over the audience and his performance. In CHARRO!, although made afterwards, he seems 10 years younger – like a callow youth. He’s tentative with only fitful exhibitions of the legendary performer. He has one bit after the outlaws have branded him when he struggles to his feet to confront their leader and it’s supposed to be an extraordinary act of will on his part. Elvis does this and it’s kind of interesting to watch, but more in the manner of a silent film star than an actor from the 60s in his 20-something-eth lead role in a film. In other moments, though, you can clearly see Elvis walk into a scene and make a beeline for his mark and begin acting. He never truly found his comfort zone in movies, I guess. If only he’d just found a way to channel a bit of his charisma into these roles instead of being merely agreeably aw-shucks likable and a touch brooding.

The rest of the cast isn’t much better given the material and the generally languid nature of the production. Victor French goes for some big moments as the heavy and he’s okay, even as he tries too hard. As Elvis’ erstwhile girl, the dark beauty Ian Balin seems more like a sophmore on her way to Brooklyn College than the owner of a Wild West saloon, let alone one who’s romanced not one but two roughhewn bandits. She certainly comes off as too smart and wholesome to have ever gotten it on with the dirt-baggy French.



The crazed brother eventually at the center of the standoff is played by Sebastian Sturges, son of Preston, in a performance that is so manically over-the-top I couldn’t tell if he was really good or simply had no idea what he was doing. I still can’t. Plus, one of the gang is played by the easily recognizable character actor James B. Sikking who looks the same as he always does. (This is 1969. Was he ever young?) The real star of the film may be Hugo Montenegro's hard-working score.

Watching this movie in its vivid DVD restoration that brings out all its garish color, I was at first drawn in, if not exactly charmed, by just how off-key and hokey it was. It retains a bit of that watchably bad movie vibe through much of it, even as it becomes less enjoyable as it wears on. There’s very little Western action to speak of as well as a long Elvis-less stretch toward the end. All told it isn’t anywhere near as fun as some of Elvis’ cars and girls musicals. But wouldn’t it have been something if he had thrown off the safe, trite vehicles and ridden hell bent for leather on his own in a tough Western in keeping with the times?

I can dream…