On June 21, 1965, the Byrds helped launch the folk-rock movement with their release of their debut album with the title track of a cover of Bob Dylan’s “Mr. Tambourine Man.” Below, The Byrds perform the song on television in the 1960s.
The Byrds — with Roger McGuinn singing lead as Gene Clark and David Crosby provided the harmony — recorded “Mr. Tambourine Man” in January for their debut album even before Dylan had a chance to record it himself. When Dylan heard what the Byrds did to his song, he reportedly exclaimed, “Wow, man, you can even dance to that!” By the time the Byrds released their album on June 21, 1965, Dylan was in the studio finishing up “Like a Rolling Stone.”
In this video below from a 2009 webcast, Chris Hillman of The Byrds tells how the band came to reinterpret “Mr. Tambourine Man” and how jazz great Miles Davis helped the band get its first record contract. Check it out.
If you missed the History Channel’s first showing of Hatfields & McCoys, starring Kevin Costner and Bill Paxton, make sure to catch it in another showing or on-demand or on video or online. The three-part miniseries, which also features an excellent almost unrecognizable performance by Tom Berenger, tells a compelling American story. Like the best miniseries, it may take you awhile to get drawn into the story as you get to know the characters in the early going. But I found that by the second episode I could not stop watching and could not wait for the third chapter.
Chimesfreedom has discussed the use of violence in movies, and one of the impressive aspects of Hatfields & McCoys is that it tells a violent story in a realistic way. Unlike many movies, the miniseries — directed by Kevin Reynolds and written by Ted Mann and Ronald Parker — portrays the tragic consequences of violence without ever manipulating the viewer into rooting for people to be killed.
I was not alone in enjoying the miniseries, which became the second-most watched entertainment program on basic cable ever (first is last year’s MTV Video Music Awards). There are a number of theories about why the miniseries did so well, including the attraction of a big-name star like Kevin Costner. But at least part of the reason is that the series is a compelling human historical story done well.
How accurate is the miniseries? Various historians indicate that the miniseries got a lot of the story right, with some adjustments for dramatic license. For example, some note that the feud had a lot to do with economics because the Hatfields were doing so well with their lumber business while the McCoys were struggling. The miniseries hints at that aspect with a few scenes devoted to the dispute over land that was part of the Hatfield’s lumber business, but much of the miniseries focuses on the Civil War and romantic roots of the feud. One big difference from the true story is that the movie was not filmed in West Virginia and Kentucky but in Romania, which had more undeveloped wild space. Also, some descendants of the Hatfields and McCoys have pointed out changes to the real story. Still, the miniseries is an excellent combination of history, fine acting, and a compelling story. Below is a short summary of the real-life story, featuring images of the real-life main characters.
Conclusion? If you like history, family drama, Civil War era stories, and have a little patience to get wrapped up in a compelling story, check out the Hatfields & McCoys. Why do you think Hatfields & McCoys was such a hit? Leave your two cents in the comments.
In Part One of this two-part series on redemptive violence in American Westerns, we considered how the 2007 version of 3:10 to Yuma significantly changed the ending from the 1957 film. In making the change, the movie embraced the myth of redemptive violence, a concept explained by writer Walter Wink in several books.
“The Myth of Redemptive Violence” appears in the media and popular culture to teach the lesson that violence provides redemption. In these scenes of redemptive violence, the audience feels a release and joy that the hero, often in an apparent beaten state, rises up in a flurry of violence to save himself or herself, save another, or save an entire town. It is through the act of violence that the hero and society is redeemed and saved. {Note: This post and the previous post discuss the ending of classic Western film and thus include spoilers.}
Classic Westerns: Shane, High Noon, & The Searchers
Although redemptive violence seems more common in today’s action films like in the updated 3:10 to Yuma, it has been present throughout film history. Many old Westerns perpetuate the myth of redemptive violence.
But the best of them add a layer of complexity and avoid the simple violence-as-redemption lesson. For example, the classic Shane (1953) fits Walter Wink’s pattern of redemptive violence with Shane beaten until he rises up to redeem himself through violence. But the movie adds something more as we realize that Shane’s acts of violence do not bring him happiness.
A similar theme is present at the end of High Noon (1952), where we are relieved that Gary Cooper killed the bad guys. But his redemption comes from the fulfilled duty more than the violence. Ultimately, he rejects the violence when he throws his badge on the ground at the end and rides off with his Quaker wife to be a farmer.
Similarly, Robert Altman’s beautiful McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971) still offered a nod to redemptive violence with the killing of the bad guys. Yet, it also showed us the hero’s tragic death and the consequences of violence.
The Searchers (1956) bucked the redemptive violence myth further. Although the film promises violence at the end, instead we get mercy. The hero then is left with a troubled future because of his violent past.
In the scene below, we see Ethan Edwards, played by John Wayne, finally capturing his niece stolen by the Native Americans. Edwards is an angry violent man who hates the Indians so much he plans to kill his niece who was taken into their culture. But near the end of the film, his character finds redemption through a small nonviolent act.
Modern Westerns: Unforgiven, Appaloosa, Dances with Wolves
In this new century, movie makers often create movies that fail to grapple with the complexities of violence and instead offer violence as redemption. Even in the highly regarded “anti-Western” of Unforgiven, where many critics praised its realistic treatment of violence, the movie ends with acts of redemptive violence just like other Clint Eastwood Westerns. The movie promises more, but in the end it slips back into the pattern of redemptive violence as we enjoy watching Eastwood kill the wounded and unarmed Gene Hackman.
Similarly, Appaloosa (2008) offers us a complex vision of the West. But it still settles on a final shootout so viewers are satisfied that the bad guy is killed.
Dances with Wolves (1990) attempted to get out of the cycle of redemptive violence. It does have flashes of it though, such as where the white men – whose evil is shown by the fact they kill Kevin Costner’s horse and the wolf – are killed in a battle at a river. Had the movie ended there, it would have been a redemptive violence lesson. But the film continues.
We see then Kevin Costner troubled by his future. And the movie ends with him and Stands With a Fist sacrificing their life with the tribe to go on their own to protect the tribe. Thus, the movie ends with an act of sacrifice rather than an act of redemptive violence.
The ending of Dances With Wolves, though, is somewhat unsatisfying. Perhaps it is because the movie led us to believe that it would provide us with redemptive violence due to its previous acts of violence. But at the end there is no big act of violence to put an end to the bad guys and make the good guys heroes. Maybe because the good guys of the movie are the Native Americans, and we all know they do not win, the movie could not end differently. Costner and the tribe never get their redemptive violence because the Native Americans of history never did.
Conclusion
The themes of Shane, High Noon and The Searchers — with their ambiguities and troubled heroes – almost seem too complex in comparison with the modern version of 3:10 to Yuma. The modern movie says, “the bad guy is now good because he killed the bad guys.” But in these older movies, it was not enough to vanquish the bad guys because there was something troubling lingering after the acts of violence.
Of course, not all old Westerns were as complex as The Searchers, so maybe it is unfair to make a comparison across time to a few classics. Still, watch for redemptive violence messages in any modern action film you watch. Because so many films teach us that redemptive violence solves problems, we must consider what our entertainment teaches us. And we must consider how that entertainment may reflect our society today.
What do you think about the use of violence in film? Leave your two cents in the comments.
The $250-million-film John Carter (2012) has made news recently as being a big bomb. The Edgar Rice Burroughs adventure film about a Civil War veteran who ends up on Mars in the middle of a war there and falls in love with a princess reportedly will lose an estimated $200 million on its U.S. release. Commentators note a number of reasons the film did not do will, with a lot of blame going to poor marketing and a generic title. Unfortunately, sometimes the fact that a film is expensive and called “the $250-million John Carter” leads to bad press when the film is not making back the money spent. The bashing of such films is okay if you are talking about bad business decisions, but if you are talking about the quality of the film, the fact that a movie lost a lot of money should not scare you away.
There are a number of famous bombs that are decent movies and of equal if not better quality than other similar films that got better press. As Kevin Costner’s post-apocalypse Waterworld (1995) became more costly in production the bad press started even before the film was released. Then it did not do well. But it is a decent science fiction film. Director Michael Cimino’s Heaven’s Gate (1980) is famous for costing so much money it brought down United Artists. But if you give the movie a chance and go into it with modest expectations, it is an entertaining, albeit long, film about Wyoming’s Johnson County War with excellent actors and nice cinematography. Are these movies great? No, not by a long shot. But they are as good or better than a lot of decent movies.
One such bomb cost me a job years ago when I was on a job interview. The job had nothing to do with film, but during the interview the subject of favorite movies came up. I asked the person in charge what his favorite film was, and with a smile on his face he said, “Ishtar.” They asked me what I thought of the 1987 movie starring Warren Beatty and Dustin Hoffman, and I answered honestly that despite all of the bad press because it was so expensive, the movie entertained me when I saw it in the theater and was not as bad as a lot of other comedies. The interview continued, and the next week I found out I did not get the job.
The rejection letter made me realize that when the boss brought up Ishtar, he was testing me to see if I had the guts to disagree with him. To test me, he picked the most ridiculous favorite movie he could think of. So from his viewpoint, I failed the test because I did not stand up to him and tell him that Ishtar was a horrible movie. Little did he know though, that while he really believed Ishtar was one of the worst movies of all time, I did disagree with him on that point. But because he said the opposite of what he thought, he missed the real chance to test me. So I will disagree with him here. I was right. Wherever you are, you were wrong.
So now I will conclude this review of John Carter that does not talk about John Carter with my point: John Carter, starring Taylor Kitsch and Lynn Collins, is a fun movie if you are only paying the price of a ticket and not the $250 million production costs.
What did you think of John Carter? Leave your two cents in the comments.
On July 7 in 1900, Warren Earp — the youngest of the Earp brothers — was killed in a saloon in Wilcox, Arizona. Warren’s most famous brother, Wyatt Earp, lived until 1929. On the day he died, Warren was drinking and confronting other customers when John Boyett killed him in a gunfight. In a later trial, Boyett was found not guilty because he was acting in self-defense.
Warren Earp did not participate in the famous 1881 gunfight at OK Corral with his brothers and Doc Holliday. But he was in the town at the time. And later he helped Wyatt with the revenge killings after the gunfight. All of those events surrounding the gunfight are portrayed in the movie Wyatt Earp (1994), a decent movie with an odd ending.
The Ending of “Wyatt Earp” . . . on a Ship?
“You ended a movie about me with a luxury cruise?”
Wyatt Earp is an enjoyable movie and in some ways superior to the more popular Tombstone from the same year. But there is one major problem with it. The movie has a poor ending. Had director Lawrence Kasden given the movie a memorable ending, the movie would be more highly regarded than it is. (Spoiler Alert: This entry discusses the film’s ending, although it is not a twist or surprise ending.)
In Wyatt Earp, the movie follows Earp’s life from his time as a child to adulthood. The film, of course, focuses largely on Earp’s western exploits. And much of the movie centers on Earp’s time in Tombstone, Arizona. It is in Tombstone where Earp and his brothers participated in the Gunfight at OK Corral.
The movie provides a realistic portrayal of that famous fight. Then, the movie shows subsequent events and the anger among the survivors. As the movie nears the end, we see Kevin Costner’s Earp exacting revenge on other characters who participated in the Tombstone gunfight.
Then, the movie cuts to many years in the future. Earp and his wife Josie Marcus are on a ship near Alaska.
They are approached by a young man who recounts a story, by aid of a flashback, of how Earp saved his uncle, Tommy “Behind the Deuce” O’Rourke (based on real-life Michael “Johnny-Behind-the Deuce” O’Rourke). Tommy’s nephew describes how Earp had intervened to protect Tommy from an angry mob many years earlier in Tombstone.
Then, after Tommy’s nephew leaves, Earp says to Josie, “Some say it did not happen that way.” She responds to the effect, “Don’t worry Wyatt, it happened that way.” End of movie.
The video below includes most of the movie’s conclusion, although it omits the comments by Wyatt and Josie at the end of the scene.
Why the Ending of “Wyatt Earp” Does not Work
This coda to the movie does not work for a number of reasons. First, the scene includes a distracting flashback after a short jump to the future.
We are thrown into a big jump in the future, which could work if the future showed us something meaningful about the movie we have been watching for three-plus hours. But the purpose of this flash-forward is to show a flashback to Earp’s lawman days — a time period the movie already covered.
Further, the ship ending — especially along with the flashback — makes it appear that the Tommy-Behind-the-Deuce character has some big significance for summarizing Earp’s life. But what happened with Tommy does not really seem that significant. It is not any more important than the rest of the movie that already focused on Earp’s lawman. But by ending with a discussion of the flashback, the movie makes the viewer think they should see something important that just is not there.
On the IMDb website, one astute viewer notes that earlier in the movie Josie had mentioned having heard the Tommy-Behind-the-Deuce story when she first met Wyatt. But, even assuming viewers will remember one passing mention of Tommy early in the three-hour movie, viewers may not remember at the end. And even if they remember and make the connection at the end, it is still confusing about why the movie ends on the Tommy-Behind-the-Deuce note.
What Was the Director Thinking?
There does not seem to be much discussion of the ending on the web. But there are a few brief critiques (“muddled,” “neutered climax,” etc.). And Roger Ebert calls the ending sequence “pointless.”
One might concede there is an argument for what Director Lawrence Kasden was trying to accomplish. The scene does reflect on the myth of the Western and how events may be remembered differently than how they really happened.
The flashback does show Earp as a pure hero. When we watch Earp in the real-time of the movie, we see many flaws in the man. But when we see him in the memory, Earp does his job as a lawman perfectly. So, perhaps Kasden wanted viewers to see that contrast to show how Earp became remembered as a hero and his flaws forgotten in that memory.
That interpretation of the ending makes some sense. But if that interpretation was Kasden’s goal, the contrast should have been clearer for the viewer disoriented by the sudden jump to the future on a boat. Maybe the scene needed to be longer.
Perhaps Kasden was trying to invoke another famous movie scene from To Kill a Mockingbird. In that movie, lawyer Atticus Finch protected a man from a lynch mob, and the viewer saw him as a courageous hero.
That all being said, with the exception of the ending, Director Lawrence Kasden created a very good Western epic biopic with Wyatt Earp. The film does a decent job of trying to convey much of a long adventurous life.
I even prefer Wyatt Earp to the less realistic Tombstone. Kevin Costner does a good job in the lead role, portraying the hero as a dark and troubled character. And Dennis Quaid gives one of his best performances ever as Doc Holliday. One of the best things about both Wyatt Earp and Tombstone are the portrayals of Doc Holiday by Quaid and Val Kilmer, respectively.
If you do not mind the awkward ending and the length of the film, and if you appreciate character-studies and Westerns, you might want to spend a lazy weekend afternoon watching Wyatt Earp.
This trailer has a better ending than the movie, withe Gene Hackman’s lines summarizing the theme of the movie better than the lines that actually ended the movie.
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would add more to explain the confusing ending, but unfortunately 