3:10 TO YUMA
Reviewed by Sam Hatch
There's been plenty of talk heralding the return of the classic Western, and proclaiming this film in particular as the best entry in the genre since Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven way back in 1992. That may be propagating audience expectations that this film perhaps cannot match, but while it isn't ultimately better than Unforgiven, 3:10 to Yuma is a finely crafted period piece that soars on its dialogue and performances. Some have complained that there's too much talk here, but I find that to be its primary draw.
I do miss the modern Western, for after Unforgiven's success there was a mini-revival of that form in the cinemas. From Tombstone to The Quick and the Dead (and even Walter Hill's little seen Wild Bill), there were some decent entries until the trend suddenly dried up again like an arid wash. In recent years the best Westerns (Hidalgo, The Proposition) can't geographically qualify as true entries. I still have yet to see Open Range (I have an allergy to Kevin Costner, you see), but I welcome Yuma to the fold with open arms.
I think what I enjoyed so much about the modern Westerns was that contemporary filmmaking capabilities brought the genre to life for me. Especially in terms of sound design and cinematography – every squeaky wooden floorboard and every amber hued lantern brought a level of verisimilitude to the table that sucked me into the world at hand and subsequently helped me find a love for a genre I could frankly care less about as a youth.
Director James Mangold (Walk the Line, Identity) has a great eye for this material, and brings a classicist's hands to the proceedings by avoiding over the top gunfights and shaky camera movements. Likewise, the script by Michael Brandt and Derek Haas shares credit with the original screenwriter Halsted Welles (and Elmore Leonard, writer of the short story seed way back when), as reportedly most of the dialogue has been carried over verbatim.
I have never seen the original 3:10 to Yuma with Glenn Ford and Van Heflin, and I resisted the urge to front like so many critics who either just recently caught it on Encore or ran out to grab a video copy right before review time, only to proclaim it as one of their all time favorites. I can't attest to the necessity of a remake in this case, but will gladly stand up for the powerhouse acting involved in the offspring.
Fittingly enough, the first film I ever saw Russell Crowe in was also a Western - Sam Raimi's hyperactive The Quick and the Dead. He fits right in as lawbreaker Ben Wade, and much like material plumbed in Unforgiven, this film shows how the exploits of such outlaws are popularized among youngsters through exaggerated tales published in sordid 'true story' digests.
One such youth obsessed with danger and adventure is Logan Lerman's William Evans, who finds it hard to understand why his father Dan (the ever-great Christian Bale) is so weak spined in his refusal to fight back against the corrupt locals who burned his barn down. Dan's only point of pride is his esteemed military service during the Civil War, the details of which are called into question. This drives plenty of Yuma's plot, as Dan struggles to become the man his son wishes he was and yearns to regain the love and respect of his somber yet beautiful wife Alice (Gretchen Mol).
Dan's adventures with the notorious criminal element begin increasing following a chance encounter with the Wade gang following an attack on a Wells-Fargo transport wagon. Crowe quips to the felled guard Byron McElroy (Peter Fonda, playing his role with a grim fatalism) that it would have been cheaper just to let him rob the coach normally. Dan's first instinct is to flee from the scene, but Wade catches him and demands his horses in favor for sparing his life.
For all of Evans' weakness of spirit, he shows considerable cojones (primarily fueled by desperation) by rolling into the nearby town of Bisbee, Arizona and demanding that Wade remunerate him for time lost. As the local law enforcement slowly realize that they've been had by a ruse to get them out of town while the outlaws sneak in to reconnoiter and resupply, Wade finds himself captive to the people he's been robbing blind for years.
Dallas Roberts (Sam Phillips in Walk the Line) is great as the wax-mustachioed South Pacific Railroad baron Grayson Butterfield, who needs a team of volunteers to escort Wade to the town of Contention. From there the villain will be dumped onto the 3:10 train to Yuma and shipped off into the steel gray world of prison. Dan, again driven by near-poverty, talks his way onto the team for the tidy sum of two hundred dollars.
Other escorts include the welcome sight of Alan Tudyk (TVs Firefly, seen lately in Knocked Up and Death at a Funeral) as a veterinarian doctor, Kevin Turand as the antagonistic Tucker and none other than Fonda's still-breathing, tough-as-nails Wells-Fargo employee. Butterfield joins the crew to keep things on task, and following a brief layover at Dan's ranch the film becomes a prison transport road adventure.
Along the way, Ben Wade fluctuates between captive and ally, and ultimately the story is about two men who become friends despite the fact that neither party would actually admit to it. Dan stubbornly wants to prove that he can best the man that he secretly wishes he could be. On the flip side, something about the buried animal instincts in the downtrodden rancher fascinates Wade in a way that his unswervingly loyal team of gangsters never could.
And while Bale and Crowe obviously chew up most of the scenery, Ben Foster (Hostage) as Wade's second in command Charlie Prince just about steals the show with his razor sharp glare and creepily effective performance. Foster is clearly an act to watch out for, and his character is one of the most interesting in the film. He and the rest of the Wade gang figure out the Yuma plans on their own, and begin dogging the trail of the prison transport convoy.
Along the way there are also encounters with hostile Apache Indians and a group of twisted men overseeing Chinese coolies and their railroad laboring. Luke Wilson has an uncredited appearance as a nasty, racist foreman that plans on delivering his own brand of justice to Wade. There's a thread of moral flexibility throughout the script, which mirrors some of the similar fodder mined in Unforgiven. Good guys aren't as good as they should be, and the bad guys aren't quite as bad as you'd expect.
Eventually Dan paints himself into a corner in the town of Contention, leaving the audience to wonder exactly how he's going to get out of it. Unfortunately, it's such an airtight predicament that there really is no way to escape unscathed. To maneuver around this kink in the plot, it is necessary for Wade to make decisions that reflect a sudden change of character, and not a particularly believable one at that.
What is so compelling about the finale is that it's an exercise in futility – Dan's task is nowhere near important enough to risk his life over, but much like the brooding Kowalski in the sublime Vanishing Point, he's trying to prove something to himself and will not abort his task no matter how absurd the cost. The ultimate resolution is a quirky chain of events that overcomes its unbelievability through sheer audacity.
Here's hoping Yuma can jumpstart the dying genre and stop the American Western from sliding further into the quicksand. (We'll see if the upcoming The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford can assist on that front.) And here's hoping that Ben Foster finds some more meaty roles such as this. For those of you turned off by the thought of suffering through another been-there-done-that western, go instead for the chance to watch two powerhouse actors strut their stuff at the top of their game.