3:10 to Yuma: The Beginnings of a Genre's Resurrection?

Long bereft of the stars who once embodied the American hero, the Western film genre has, in recent decades, failed to live up to the memory of its glory days as the toast of Hollywood. In fact, excluding Dances With Wolves, the modern Western genre has failed to live up to much of anything at all, instead existing as a cinematic dinosaur whose storied past has since given rise to new, more technologically captivating thriller genres, i.e. science fiction. Today’s filmmakers have shied away from westerns, most likely because of their perceived lack of popularity and consumer-value. Director James Mangold (Walk the Line, Kate and Leopold) breaks the mold, however, with his visually stunning 3:10 to Yuma. Boasting a pair of star performers in Russell Crowe (Gladiator, A Beautiful Mind, Cinderella Man) and Christian Bale (American Psycho, Batman Begins, The Prestige), 3:10 to Yuma, anticipated as the savior that might resurrect the Western genre (albeit as a remake), has produced mixed reviews. Critics and movie-goers alike are generally pleased with the dazzling special effects of Mangold’s film, but remain undecided on their opinions of the performances of the lead actors, as well as the film’s somewhat convenient ending. Despite what I considered a weak ending, I thought the film was, on the whole, an interesting addition to an otherwise dead genre, whose captivating visual effects and thought-provoking character portrayals make it an entertaining and attractive contribution to modern cinema.

Response to Big Boy's "3:10 to Yuma" Blog Posting

For the most part, I share your evaluation of 3:10 to Yuma. I was thoroughly displeased with and share your disdain for the film’s convenient ending, which is, as far as I can discern, largely the product of the “father-son” element of the film, which you point out was one of Mangold’s additions to the original plot. I feel that the new elements which you point out (the “father-son” complication and the chase through the railway construction zone) do little, if anything, to develop the storyline, instead (in the first case) diluting Christian Bale’s performance and (regarding both) complicating the audience’s ability to understand and appreciate the storyline. The “father-son” element for me did nothing to foster empathy for or interest in Bale’s Dan Evans, instead detaching me from the storyline and forcing me to grapple with a somewhat unrealistic transformation in his character (his goal-change from earning 200 dollars to earning his son’s respect after the boy’s unexpected fusion with the rest of the party) from realist to romantic hero, and his questionable status as the protagonist. I disagree with you, however, in your assessment of Russell Crowe’s Ben Wade. I found Crowe’s Wade to be a deliberately designed, thought-provoking character (until his surprising and apparently out of character change of heart at the end) who’s contradictory and juxtaposed personalities as cold-blooded leader of a ruthless gang and reflective artist provide depth and dissonance to a collection of more shallow and one-sided (albeit well-performed) personalities (i.e. your acclaimed Charlie Prince).

Response to Telecommuniculturey Blog Posting - "Newton's Cradle: 3:10 to Yuma, Reviewed"

Your post presents an interesting evaluation of 3:10 to Yuma. While I share your appreciation for the excellent acting in the film, I was disappointed to see that you did not really address the ending and it’s rather (in my opinion) convenient nature. I had a hard time swallowing Wade’s rather out-of-character change of heart after hearing Dan’s heart-wrenching life story, and as a result felt cheated by the movie’s abrupt closure. In addition, I found Dan’s goal change to be slightly out-of-character, although not as much so as Wade’s. Despite the disappointments which life has dealt him (many of which you articulate in your post), I felt that either the script or Bale’s acting set Dan up as a calculated, methodical man throughout the entire movie. While his desire to be the tragic (and his son’s) hero puts a romantic, almost “feel-good” closure on an otherwise dark plotline, I saw the transformation as abrupt, uncharacteristic, and rather unbelievable, dampening an otherwise brilliant performance. Outside of these end-of-film details, however, I generally agree with your assessment of 3:10 to Yuma as as an overall entertaining piece with memorable acting but underdeveloped characters.

Fighting For Iwo: Clint Eastwood's Contribution to the War Film Genre

Beginning as early as 1946 (The Best Years of Our Lives) and continuing to the present day,

Hollywood has exhibited considerable fascination with World War II. A number of American
filmmakers have produced legitimate works dealing with the conflict, including (to name only
a few) Fred Zinnemann, Michael Bay, Jerry Bruckheimer, John Woo, Terrence Malick, Steven Spielberg, and now Clint Eastwood. Where Eastwood’s work stands out is in his hybridization of stunning battle sequences and intriguing storyline with complex human emotion and
acceptable historical accuracy. His effort to relay the history of the Battle for Iwo Jima
from both sides of the conflict is remarkably effective in leading the audience to an
understanding about the unfortunate nature of war for everyone involved; as such, the paired
films deserve acclaim as masterful contributions to historically-based film and the war film
genre.

In Flags of Our Fathers, Eastwood portrays Iwo Jima and its aftermath from the
perspective of three unfortunate servicemen (two Marines and one Navy Corpsman), who, after
having survived vicious combat on Iwo, are forced into a War-Bond campaign presenting them as heroes, in an effort to exploit the flag-raising (which, to at least two of the three, was neither completely genuine or significant) as a marketable event for revenue generation. Eastwood’s film effectively illustrates both the intensity of battle in the Pacific Theater and the difficult emotions the three survivors of the flag-raising were forced to wrestle with upon returning home and for the rest of their lives. After watching the film, thoughtful viewers are inclined to question the ethics of wartime fund raising in addition to the truth behind patriotic promotions.

Eastwood’s more acclaimed corresponding film on the Japanese, Letters from Iwo Jima, is equally effective, but for different reasons. Unlike Flags of Our Fathers, this second film focuses entirely on the battle for Iwo Jima, as recounted by a series of letters written by Japanese soldiers and officers. Ken Watanabe delivers a stunning performance as General Tadamichi Kuribayashi, and Eastwood masterfully uses screen shots, conversations, and events to lead the audience to a human understanding of the Japanese soldiers, traditionally depicted in film as a savage and ruthless enemy (Windtalkers, The Thin Red Line). Letters From Iwo Jima allows viewers to relate to the Japanese and see the “enemy” from his point of view, producing an epiphany about the nature of war as a tragic misunderstanding with dire consequences for all involved, rather than simply for the good guys. Film critics almost universally recognize the brilliance of the film, as evident in its accolades: four Academy Award nominations and one Golden Globe award (Best Picture Foreign Language).

Unlike Letters From Iwo Jima, Flags of Our Fathers sharply divides film critics; very few, if any, are ambivalent in their critiques of the movie - most either love it or hate it.
Those critics who dislike the film attack a number of issues, but two in particular;
1) cliché, unimaginative screenwriting, and 2) negative portrayal of the Japanese. In
response to those attacks, 1) The Flags of Our Fathers screenplay was written by Paul
Haggis, who’s other works include Academy Award winning movies Million Dollar Baby and Crash. The success of his methods speaks for itself. 2) The film is told from the American perspective – as such, the Japanese should be presented as the enemy, however inhuman that presentation may be. Other films, including the highly acclaimed (and rightfully so) Saving Private Ryan and Letters From Iwo Jima, are also guilty of borderline inhuman presentation of the enemy( in Letters, the Americans), for the sake of understanding: only through such presentation will the audience be able to empathize with the emotions and fears of the protagonists.

The prestige of those critics who hail the movie’s excellence strongly indicates Flags of Our Fathers’ right, however controversial, or recognition as a masterpiece deserving of status equal to the greatest World War II films. Among the supporters of the film are Robert Roeper of “At the Movies with Ebert and Roeper”, Manohla Dargis of the New York Times, and Peter Travers of Rolling Stone, all of whom rave about Eastwood’s mastery in directing what Travers calls a “film of awesome power and blistering provocation”.

Together, Eastwood’s two films about the fight for Iwo Jima deserve the utmost recognition as outstanding additions to the war-film genre, and as films which all Americans who value their country’s history should see. In telling the story of one of the greatest battles in our nation’s history (and its consequences), Eastwood leads audiences to an understanding about the nature of war that all too often gets lost in our violence-obsessed entertainment culture. In the words of the New York Times’ Dargis, “Mr. Eastwood insists, with a moral certitude that is all too rare in our movies, that we extract an unspeakable cost when we ask men to kill other men.”