Judge Roy Bean was a real historical figure, but the colourful myths that have sprung up out of what is know of his undoubtedly colourful life have made him a ripe subject for a number of largely fictional movies. There was a TV series in the 50s and a bizarre yet brilliant Paul Newman picture in 1973, but Bean could just as easily appear as a stock supporting character in somebody else's story. In The Westerner, he is the antagonist for one of Gary Cooper's upstanding Western heroes, in what is purportedly a tale of conflict between the cowboys and the farmers in old Texas. But whose story is this really?
The judge is played by that superb character actor Walter Brennan, in the third and most well-earned of his three Oscar-winning appearances. Brennan was often a cheerfully silly comedy player but here his performance is wonderfully subdued. He barely seems to move, but his hypnotic presence and moody drawl seem to draw you into the screen. Cooper is similarly subtle, and some of the best moments in the picture are just the two of them silently staring each other down. There's a lot of work with props here, such as the ubiquitous shot glasses or the lock of hair, and it really helps to build up character and atmosphere. There is also a strong emotional turn from female lead Doris Davenport, whose career would probably have taken off had she not shortly afterwards been severely injured in a car crash.
Director William Wyler was known for overseeing competent and smartly understated acting performances, and while I have written extensively about this in my reviews of his other pictures, this time I'm going to talk about his view of the West. Wyler cut his teeth making Western shorts in the silent era, and once quipped that he used to lie awake thinking of new ways for someone to get on or off a horse. The way he does things here however is very different to the approaches John Ford or Raoul Walsh. For the first half of The Westerner, the Western landscape is barely seen. Most of the scenes take place indoors, and not even a reminder of what lies beyond can be glimpsed through the window. During Cooper's "trial", the judge's pals press around the frame like a human wall, enclosing things further. Of course, there are outdoor shots, but these seem inconsequential, and are certainly not there to show off the beauty or grandeur of the landscape, which appears spiky and full of dry brush and stones. Then, about fifty or so minutes in, as Cooper's moral stance in defending the homesteaders and his romance with Davenport begin to unfold, so too does the glory of the plains, Wyler treating us to aesthetic pastoral scenes to reflect the change in tone. It doesn't last however, and for the tense finale we are back to closeted interiors.
In part because of this late and brief blossoming of the scenery, and despite all the guns, dust and whiskey, The Westerner ironically doesn't really feel like a Western. It is more in the way of an Old West drama. Yes, it does feature Judge Roy Bean, iconic figure of the West, and it does star Gary Cooper, iconic actor of the Western, and it is even packaged as a "progress" Western about the settling of the land. But the performances are so intense, the relationship between Cooper and Brennan so fully-fleshed, that the context disappears, and the opening spiel about range wars and homesteaders is soon forgotten. What remains is a compelling tale of the battle of wits between two men, one old and experienced but blinded by obsession, the other young and sharp-witted. The legend of Roy Bean and his young nemesis takes on a grand stature here, and either one could be the Westerner of the title.
The judge is played by that superb character actor Walter Brennan, in the third and most well-earned of his three Oscar-winning appearances. Brennan was often a cheerfully silly comedy player but here his performance is wonderfully subdued. He barely seems to move, but his hypnotic presence and moody drawl seem to draw you into the screen. Cooper is similarly subtle, and some of the best moments in the picture are just the two of them silently staring each other down. There's a lot of work with props here, such as the ubiquitous shot glasses or the lock of hair, and it really helps to build up character and atmosphere. There is also a strong emotional turn from female lead Doris Davenport, whose career would probably have taken off had she not shortly afterwards been severely injured in a car crash.
Director William Wyler was known for overseeing competent and smartly understated acting performances, and while I have written extensively about this in my reviews of his other pictures, this time I'm going to talk about his view of the West. Wyler cut his teeth making Western shorts in the silent era, and once quipped that he used to lie awake thinking of new ways for someone to get on or off a horse. The way he does things here however is very different to the approaches John Ford or Raoul Walsh. For the first half of The Westerner, the Western landscape is barely seen. Most of the scenes take place indoors, and not even a reminder of what lies beyond can be glimpsed through the window. During Cooper's "trial", the judge's pals press around the frame like a human wall, enclosing things further. Of course, there are outdoor shots, but these seem inconsequential, and are certainly not there to show off the beauty or grandeur of the landscape, which appears spiky and full of dry brush and stones. Then, about fifty or so minutes in, as Cooper's moral stance in defending the homesteaders and his romance with Davenport begin to unfold, so too does the glory of the plains, Wyler treating us to aesthetic pastoral scenes to reflect the change in tone. It doesn't last however, and for the tense finale we are back to closeted interiors.
In part because of this late and brief blossoming of the scenery, and despite all the guns, dust and whiskey, The Westerner ironically doesn't really feel like a Western. It is more in the way of an Old West drama. Yes, it does feature Judge Roy Bean, iconic figure of the West, and it does star Gary Cooper, iconic actor of the Western, and it is even packaged as a "progress" Western about the settling of the land. But the performances are so intense, the relationship between Cooper and Brennan so fully-fleshed, that the context disappears, and the opening spiel about range wars and homesteaders is soon forgotten. What remains is a compelling tale of the battle of wits between two men, one old and experienced but blinded by obsession, the other young and sharp-witted. The legend of Roy Bean and his young nemesis takes on a grand stature here, and either one could be the Westerner of the title.