His movies about cowboys and gangs, music and mayhem, with sundry clever gimmicks that usually elevate subgenre clichés to pulp art-forms, make
Walter Hill the best director of pictures about American cultures. Although the
quality his work might vary quite a lot, his credits include several classics (48 Hrs, Streets Of Fire, Extreme
Prejudice) as Hill practically perfects buddy-movies, timeless adventures,
and modern westerns. Is he the greatest auteur of genuine Americana? Perhaps his success was partly because he was born, like Clint Eastwood, in California, not
in New York like his rivals Martin Scorsese, the late Michael Cimino, and
upstart Abel Ferrara. Usually, Hill’s own class of directors are less prolific,
or their action movies are far too inconsistent in average quality.
For last week’s re-watching survey, I picked a batch of 7
titles that (apart from Long Riders) I
have not seen again since their VHS releases. Charles Bronson’s mysterious loner
Chaney almost seems destined to save chronic gambler Speed (James Coburn), and
junkie doctor Poe (Strother Martin) from their vices. After serving his time as
screen-writer, Hill’s directing debut HARD TIMES (1975) looks well crafted,
despite its low-budget. Sets and locations are carefully shot with painterly
care to enhance social struggles of the Depression era. Bronson’s fisticuffs generate
whatever mercenary thrills and amorality that western styled action themes promise
to deliver, while sequences like cage fighting are sharply edited by Roger Spottiswoode
(who, like Hill, also worked for Sam Peckinpah). Restored to 4K standard, Eureka’s
MOC Blu-ray has a pictures booklet, with a contemporary review by Pauline Kael.
Renowned for its unique casting of actual brothers (Keach,
Carradine, Quaid, Guest), playing outlaws from families, THE LONG RIDERS (1980),
re-mints gunslinger lore with revisionism like meta-movie authenticity.
Curiosity values aside, this version of the ‘James-Younger gang’ sees director
Hill blasting his way into western mythology, tackling bank/ stagecoach/ train
robbery, with ruthless guns and attempted chivalry.
Outsmarting Pinkerton agents, or getting brutal revenge
after ‘Robin Hood’ failures, Jesse James and Cole Younger get increasingly
violent when lawmen harass a widow and kill innocents. Previously filmed as
Kaufman’s Great Northfield, Minnesota
Raid (1972), the gang’s climactic job results in a bloody shoot-out of
slow-mo stunts, a ride through shop-windows, and inventively stylised
bullet-zinger effects. The appearance of a steam-tractor that spooks horses
symbolises the cowboys’ finale while a time-lock defeats armed robbery. Here,
musician Ry Cooder begins a career doing soundtracks for six Hill movies, while
Pamela Reed and James Remar have Starr turns, providing witty characters for
unhappy loner Cole to fight. Kino special edition R1 Blu-ray has a disc-load of
extras, including retrospective cast interviews, plus 1 outstanding hour of German documentary, Outlaw Brothers (2013), made by Robert Fischer, for Fiction Factory.
An engagingly persistent comedy of American excess, filmed
several times before this version, BREWSTER’S MILLIONS (1985) celebrates
rags-to-riches fantasy with links to Twain’s story Million Pound Bank Note, and John Landis’ class-conscious money-bags
bet in Trading Places (1983). Can a
baseball pitcher spend-but-never-squander $1 million every day for a month, to
inherit a mythically vast fortune? If any wealthy life-style is only a tawdry
game, should the results be a win or a loss? Hill’s approach to farcical humour
is fuelled by tragedies about frequently mercenary attitudes, and wholly tasteless
extravagance, in the premier decade of yuppies. Its amoral schemes and thematically
virulent greed gained even greater cultural resonance after Oliver Stone’s Wall Street (1987), but none of all that
detracts from a sense of overindulgent fun, boosted by John Candy wittily playing
sentimentalism for keeps.
After his cross-genre “rock ‘n’ roll fantasy” Streets Of Fire, director Hill
explored the roots of US music in CROSSROADS
(1986). Wannabe guitar-star Eugene ‘Lightning Boy’ teams up with legendary
bluesman ‘Blind Dog’ Fulton for this road-movie with a mojo bag, heading into
southern gothic. Dangerous dreams on the Mississippi delta shape their quest
for one ‘lost song’ by Robert Johnson (feature debut of TREK’s Tim Russ) whose mythic
deal with Legba makes an eerie prologue. Hitchhikers on trail to celebrity,
with decades of culture between them, the heroes windup in an electric duel
against Steve Vai. Ralph Macchio and Joe Seneca are fun as the kid and Willie,
while Jami Gertz’s runaway heart-breaker Frances provides the young man his final
lesson in getting the blues. Pained silence... needs no explanation. Joe Morton
almost steals the show as Scratch’s assistant.
Not to be confused with Joel Schumacher’s last movie, 2011’s
home-invasion thriller, starring Cage and Kidman, actioner TRESPASS (1992) is
Hill’s reworked updating of John Huston’s classic Treasure Of The Sierra Madre (1948). On an urban adventure, reckless fire-fighters, Don and Vince, stray
into a conflict between black gangs led by King James (Ice-T). A disused
factory becomes a death-trap for all concerned, when a lockdown siege seems
influenced by John Carpenter’s Assault On
Precinct 13 (1976). Sniper shots and hostage crisis ramps up tension, while
suspense cranks higher from army weapons
in gunfights over turf. Philosophical angles ensure the hoods are more
than just angry thugs, and it’s grimly amusing when they act like black
yuppies. There are talky smarts against feral greed on both sides of racial
issues, but adding maniacal impatience and junkie-level desperation to this
wholly mixed-up situation generates a wealth of thieving violence for the long
lost stash of churchy gold. William Sadler and Bill Paxton make for engaging
leads, especially when their moral dilemmas become a nightmare of explosive
demolition, where it’s always the savvy of survival that counts.
“This dance is a demonstration hostile to the citizens of
the United States.”
Yes, that’s how trouble starts in GERONIMO: An American
Legend (1993). Blue-coats played by Jason Patric and Matt Damon escort Apache
leader Geronimo (Wes Studi, deserving stardom here after his great performance
in Last Of The Mohicans), to meet US
army General ‘Nantan Lupan’ Crook, before his tribe are confined to Reservation
land. Old hands Gene Hackman and Robert Duval express acting proficiency for
their co-stars, and need only grins and nods to communicate effectively
on-screen. Narration adds depth to a story observing that freedom (wild like
the wind?) is never civilised, while USA’s cultural dilemma prompts the
question: can ‘pacification’ ever be honourable? But for Geronimo’s visions,
this movie is almost drama-doc in approach, and yet Hill just cannot resist
doing splendidly arty compositions for locations. It’s also not a bio-pic, but
a powerful character-study. Look out for Scott Wilson and Stephen McHattie in a
fine supporting cast of 'White-Eyes'.
Notably, except for Another
48 Hrs. (1990), director Hill does not create sequels, and rarely repeats
his past work beyond signature in-jokes like a pub/club called Torchy’s. WILD
BILL (1995) crams plenty into a brisk 90+ mins. As famous gunslinger, James
Butler ‘Wild Bill’ Hickok, Jeff Bridges improves upon previous western
performances, in Hearts Of The West and
Heaven’s Gate, and seems to perfect
grouchy mannerisms he later displayed for the Coens’ excellent True Grit remake, succeeding John Wayne.
Slowly going blind, Hickok faces down foes and outrages even
friends, like ‘California’ Joe (James Gammon, never better), and Charley Prince
(John Hurt). Hurt’s extra job as narrator sticks close to Hill’s formula by
providing insights, not just details, to help viewers ‘see’ the unfolding
narrative clearly. Wild Bill is roundly portrayed as walking nightmare, not a
cowboy hero. “I don’t explain myself.” He’s a serial killer, sometimes wearing
a badge. Just daring to touch Bill’s hat is annoyance enough for him to shoot
anyone. Ellen Barkin’s Calamity Jane looks definitive, and is certainly far
superior to Jane Alexander’s 1984 TV film, or Anjelica Huston’s series Buffalo Girls (also 1995). A fabulous
supporting cast showcases Diane Lane, David Arquette, Bruce Dern, and James Remar,
with Keith Carradine’s witty cameo as ‘Buffalo Bill’.
