The Westerner will seldom make it on anyone's top ten westerns list, even one compiled by those of us who haven't succumbed to the garlicky charms of the Man with No Name. But this is one of the top notch hay-consumers of all time, make no mistake.
What can you say about Gary Cooper that has not already been voiced over and over. His beautifully understated acting style, the subtle twitches and raised eyebrows. His bearing. The way he sits a horse, as only someone who grew up on a Montana ranch can. The sure enough Western accent. Had he discovered the ear-pull yet, I didn't notice it in this one. Until watching this movie on a newly restored DVD tonight, I had not seen it in 20 years, and had come to think of it as more of a Walter Brennan movie. I was wrong. Brennan was there with all his fine tools, all right, and he royally deserved his best-supporting award, but that is what his role was. When it's a Gary Cooper movie, it's a Gary Cooper movie. Never having been a fan of High Noon, I had thought maybe Dallas or Vera Cruz were Coop's best westerns. But The Westerner gives us the definitive Gary Cooper.
The movie is handsomely turned out in the sensuously luminous black and white cinematography, fluid editing and silky-smooth scene changes we have come to accept as standard for top studio productions of the late 'thirties, 'forties era, and every cinematic effect is enhanced by a stirring Dimitri Tiomin score. The sets and costumes are superb with a much more authentic look and feel for the old west than most westerns before or since. The clothes of both the men and women, both the cowboys and the farmers, the gun leather, and the buildings, are all unusually accurate to the time and place. Refreshingly, the heroine of our piece, sensitively and strongly played by the beautiful but obscure Doris Davenport, wears a long, feminine dress and uses a wagon for transportation, rather than wearing men's jeans and riding astraddle a horse with her Tangee lipstick blaring as we see in so many great and small westerns. All the other characters, both male and female, come off like real 19th century men and women, not products of the time in which the film was made. William Wyler's direction is virtually flawless with just the right blend of action, tension, and humor. But considering the acting talent, the cinematographers, lighting specialists, art directors, and other technical help any director in the awesomely efficient big studio systems of the time had available, maybe he just knew how to stay out of the way.
What can you say about Gary Cooper that has not already been voiced over and over. His beautifully understated acting style, the subtle twitches and raised eyebrows. His bearing. The way he sits a horse, as only someone who grew up on a Montana ranch can. The sure enough Western accent. Had he discovered the ear-pull yet, I didn't notice it in this one. Until watching this movie on a newly restored DVD tonight, I had not seen it in 20 years, and had come to think of it as more of a Walter Brennan movie. I was wrong. Brennan was there with all his fine tools, all right, and he royally deserved his best-supporting award, but that is what his role was. When it's a Gary Cooper movie, it's a Gary Cooper movie. Never having been a fan of High Noon, I had thought maybe Dallas or Vera Cruz were Coop's best westerns. But The Westerner gives us the definitive Gary Cooper.
The movie is handsomely turned out in the sensuously luminous black and white cinematography, fluid editing and silky-smooth scene changes we have come to accept as standard for top studio productions of the late 'thirties, 'forties era, and every cinematic effect is enhanced by a stirring Dimitri Tiomin score. The sets and costumes are superb with a much more authentic look and feel for the old west than most westerns before or since. The clothes of both the men and women, both the cowboys and the farmers, the gun leather, and the buildings, are all unusually accurate to the time and place. Refreshingly, the heroine of our piece, sensitively and strongly played by the beautiful but obscure Doris Davenport, wears a long, feminine dress and uses a wagon for transportation, rather than wearing men's jeans and riding astraddle a horse with her Tangee lipstick blaring as we see in so many great and small westerns. All the other characters, both male and female, come off like real 19th century men and women, not products of the time in which the film was made. William Wyler's direction is virtually flawless with just the right blend of action, tension, and humor. But considering the acting talent, the cinematographers, lighting specialists, art directors, and other technical help any director in the awesomely efficient big studio systems of the time had available, maybe he just knew how to stay out of the way.