Review of Unforgiven (1992) by John P — 26 Mar 2012

The first hint that Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven is not a typical western comes when a whore's face is cut up less than a minute into the film. This sequence sets the tone of what's to come, and proves the catalyst for the rest of the movie. No, Unforgiven is not the kind of wholesome, if somewhat violent entertainment that John Ford and Howard Hawks used to make. Nor is it the kind of stylish, ultraviolent shoot-em-up that Eastwood used to star in back in his younger days. Instead it's a serious, insightful, and very graphic look at the old west, the nature of revenge, and how myths are made.

It's often been called the great revisionist western, and I suppose it is, at least in relation to what Hollywood has put out since its earliest days. In deconstructing the image created by countless two-realers and spaghetti westerns, Unforgiven doesn't pull any punches. It doesn't make the slightest effort to sanitize or idealize the old west. In every scene, we're reminded that this is a grimy, lonely place, where people eek a meager existence, where whores and whiskey are plentiful, and where concepts like justice and due process don't mean much.

But if the old west is not a wholesome, happy place, neither is it filled with shootouts, holdups, and rapidly increasing body counts. Cowboys and outlaws don't ride down Main Street with guns blazing, card games don't end with bar-clearing brawls, and Indians don't come riding in on the warpath. Make no mistake, this is a violent movie. But the violence is never glorified or made to look heroic. Killing is presented as nasty business, with pleas for mercy and the groans of the dying. And it's certainly not free of consequences. As in real life, watching someone die is a traumatic experience even for one accustomed to such things, and all the more so if you're the one responsible. And the knowledge of what you've done can stick with you for a very long time.

Nor does killing a man come off as an easy thing to do. It's clear from the beginning that fighting, much less killing, is something that doesn't come naturally to most people. A man may act as tough as they come, and carry a miniature arsenal on his back, but when push comes to shove he's more likely to turn coward than to reach for his gun. And even if a man is of the right disposition, killing still takes skill, preparation, or at least a whole lot of luck. You need a steady aim, a clear head, and quick reflexes if you want to kill the other man before he kills you, and few men can survive multiple opponents.

William Munny (Eastwood) is one of those men. He was one of the most vicious and most feared outlaws in the west, until he settled down to raise a family. Now he's a widower with two children, and it's been more than ten years since he fired a gun in anger. But when offered part of a thousand dollar bounty on the men who attacked the prostitute at the beginning, he can't pass up the money. And so he finds himself on one last job with his old partner Ned Logan (Morgan Freeman) and the arrogant, hot tempered Schofield Kid (Jaimz Woolvett).

Age may have slowed Eastwood, but it has in no way diminished him as an actor. At age 62, he's weathered, and perhaps not as spry as he once was, but he's still as intense and intimidating as ever, and possesses a level of badassery far beyond any ordinary man. As Munny, he's a grizzled, cantankerous old man doing a dangerous job that he really doesn't want to do. His aim and instincts are still sharp, but much like Danny Glover, he and Ned are getting too old for this s***.

Nor is he the same man he once was. We're told early on that his late wife tamed his wild ways and cured him of the bottle. Now, back in the saddle once more, his past is coming back to him, and he'd rather leave it far behind. Also, he is keenly aware of his mortality. At one point, in feverish delusion, he cries out that the Angel of Death is upon him. But when angered, he becomes as the Angel of Death given human form, and woe to any who stand in his way.

The kid is Munny's opposite in nearly every way. As young and green as Munny is old and experienced, he contrasts the older man's reserved, taciturn nature with boundless bravado, bragging of his courage and past exploits at such length and with such force that we know beyond any doubt that he's absolutely full of it. He comes off as profoundly insecure, and seems to have gained all his knowledge about the outlaw life from dime novels and his uncle's bedtime stories. If he weren't the one who had all the information about the job, the other two likely wouldn't put up with him. It comes as no surprise when we later learn that he has seriously misrepresented himself.

More interesting than the kid is English Bob (Richard Harris). He's an arrogant, condescending, oh so proper English gentleman whose exploits with a gun are legendary, to the point of having his own biographer. Some very prominent critics have questioned his significance to the plot, noting quite rightly that he never meets the protagonists. But his inclusion serves an important purpose in getting to the heart of how myths of the old west were made and spread. In his scenes with the corrupt sheriff Little Bill (Gene Hackman) we see that even the most skilled gunfighters often created their own legend through shameless self promotion, and how wide eyed writers with more ambition than concern for the truth peddled these legends to eager audiences, creating the mythos that persists to this day.

Unforgiven may be too slow in a few parts, and is nowhere near as action packed as Eastwood's early films, but it's one of the best acted, best written, best directed, and by far most contemplative westerns released in decades. It is a true masterpiece, and a fitting tribute to the western genre by one of its greatest stars.