Macho Callahan

This is an unrelentingly grim movie set in 1864 in lawless Texas and New Mexico. It's a movie about vengeance. There's no greater meaning. Macho Callahan wants to hunt down and kill the guy who tricked him into enlisting in the Confederate army, which led to him being thrown in Camp Hooks Military Prison for desertion because he wouldn't go to war. Alexandra Mountford wants to hunt down and kill Macho for killing her husband over a bottle of champagne.

I like David Janssen in westerns. He's great with horses and he looks tough. It's a strong, steady performance. The word that comes to mind when I think back to his portrayal of the aptly named character Macho is unflinching. It describes his demeanor as he stares down the barrel of a gun at the beginning of the movie. It describes his interaction with David Carradine's character. It describes how he looks at Lee J. Cobb's character after they pitch a game of horseshoes. And it's how he looks when Bo Hopkins' character calls him out for insulting a lady. But David Janssen was able to imbue his character with a lot of sympathy, even though that character exhibited a lot of violence.

The actor I really enjoyed watching was Pedro Armendariz Jr. though. He plays Macho's friend Juan, the nicest person in the entire movie. And with a friend like Juan, it helps to define Macho as a stand-up guy. We don't get a lot from the sparse dialogue aside from Juan suggesting to Alexandra that she should use her heart in order to understand people. So it's this friendship (and his care for a bear cub) that gives us insight into Macho's character.

Jean Seberg as Alexandra is lovely, has a very direct gaze but could have been a little more expressive. I liked her very much although she's the one that sets in motion the bounty hunters. Diane Ladd has a tiny role and she gets to chew the scenery a bit in her one scene; it's one of the few times we get a break during this somber and dramatic movie. The prison camp scenes are harrowing though well done. The moment when Macho actually breaks out through the gates is great. The fight scene when Alexandra tries to kill Macho with a poker and he fights back is quite brutal and tough to watch.

It's a dark, tragic tale which I don't want to see again any time soon, even though I liked it. It's just too sad.

In the original novel by Richard Carr and later in the movie directed by Bernard L. Kowaski, viewing audiences get to meet Diego Callahan played by David Janssen. He is a solid man not easily taken as a fool. However, A shifty eyed Government agent (Lee J. Cobb) tricks Callahan into signing an enlistment form to join the Confederate Army. later, Callahan finds himself in solitary punishment box for attempting to escape. Still, much later he manages to escape to hunt down the agent. In the interim, he crosses a Confederate Office (David Carradine) over a bottle of Champane, killing him in the process. The wife (Jean Seberg) of the dead man posts a large reward to anyone who will hunt down a kill Callahan. On the run, the hunted man and his Mexican friend (Pedro Armendariz Jr.) traveling to Mexico find themselves pursued by friends of the wife, reward seekers and gun packing lawmen. All in all, an interesting picture for Janssen, despite it being a bit dark. Nevertheless, I would recommend it as a milestone for him and those who join him in the cast, which include, James Booth, Bo Hopkins and Richard Anderson. ****

Released is 1970 and directed by Bernard L. Kowalski, "Macho Callahan" stars David Janssen in the title role as a man who rebels after being duped into enlisting into the Confederate Army and is therefore locked in a hellish POW camp on desertion charges. After getting out and reuniting with his old sidekick, Juan (Pedro Armendáriz Jr.), Callahan goes after the man responsible for his travails (Lee J. Cobb). An honor duel with a Confederate officer (David Carradine) leads to Callahan meeting the wife (Jean Seberg) and a gang of steadfast bounty hunters (James Booth, Bo Hopkins, etc.). Diane Ladd has a small part.

The first act in the Confederate camp is dirty and brutal, ringing with authenticity; this is the furthest thing from those old Westerns where everyone has bright, clean clothes and courteousness abounds. Callahan is a very hardened man after his harrowing prison sentence and thoroughly unwilling to allow a Confederate officer to dishonor him, particularly when Macho's fairly drunk. The opening score is very austere and inspiring in a somber way, but it later morphs into more pleasant aural reveries. This is a thoroughly adult Western, not to mention modern and therefore holds up well after all these decades.

Speaking of which, as dark and harsh as much of this obscure Western is, it's counterpoised by care and sensitivity. For instance, one character apologizes and is forgiven because the recipient discerns it's sincere. Or consider the two protagonists concern for a motherless cub.

One person sees through the others' gruffness to recognize essentially noble hearts that live by a code of honor, which is surprising considering one of them just went through hell on earth, and unjustly so. All this points to the "Stockholm Syndrome" NOT being at play in the story, as some claim. Watch the movie and see for yourself. See the commentary below for details.

The love and compassion that surface separates "Macho Callahan" from one-dimensional and juvenile Spag Westerns. As such, it's puzzling to hear Brian Garfield lambaste the film as "strictly for sadists" and "revolting." This same critic said "the story defies reason everywhere and is impenetrable," but this simply isn't true. The plot is simple and the characters' motivations are obvious. If you want to see a Western that defies reason watch the original "The Magnificent Seven" (see my review for details). Unfortunately, the ending leaves a bad taste in the mouth and I wish it went the route of "The Outlaw Josey Wales." Still, it's worth checking out if you like atypical realistic Westerns that are dark, brutal, ugly, warm and beautiful at the same time.

The film runs 98 minutes and was shot in Durango, Mexico. The script was written by Cliff Gould from Richard Carr's story.

GRADE: B

ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY ***SPOILER ALERT***

Generally speaking, Stockholm Syndrome occurs when a strong emotional link develops between captor and captive where the former intermittently abuses the other in one way or another, whether beatings, threats, intimidation or harassment. This is not what occurs in the movie: Alexandra hooks up with Callahan & Juan in order to kill Callahan (i.e. she's NOT a captive), and she almost succeeds when the opportunity presents itself. Thus Callahan fights back savagely to survive, BUT he mercifully doesn't kill her; and is clearly concerned about her recovery later.

After this violent episode, Alexandra gets to know Callahan & Juan and slowly discovers that they're not evil. They're basically goodhearted people with some rough edges. Macho saves her life at one point and even trusts her with a rifle. She's NOT a captive and is free to leave when she wants. Callahan even apologizes for what happened to her husband, and sincerely so, but implies that it was a matter of honor between the two men (and, really, it was the greedy bartender's fault). A mutual attraction blossoms into love before the movie's over, ending with the touching sequence during the standoff at the climax.

Another "spaghetti" style Western, a victim of its time.

It's pretty much just routine formula Hollywood. "Spaghetti" was actually just the same Hollywood formula and set of clichés set to extremes.

There are many problems with such movies, and this movie is a prime example. We never care about any of the multitude of dull "demi god" characters thrown at us. They're so self righteous and unmotivated in their "demi god" status that they just bore us.

Don't bother trying to watch it in one sitting. It isn't possible, unless you are one of the "Beavis and Butthead" types. It's too ordinary, too Hollywood, too much into its own relentless hate and boredom.

We can't relate to any of this, and only the most hate filled Beavis and Butthead bubble boys can't feel the deliberate alienation. Mature people, educated people, people who aren't crack heads, all of these are totally alienated by the writing here, and that's because of the stereotypical characters that are impossible to relate to.

It's like watching demi gods decide to make the world into crap, for no reason.

And what in the world was Lee J Cobb thinking, being a part of this garbage?

One of the darker examples within the American Western canon, MACHO stars David Janssen as a half White, half Mexican drifter gulled into enlisting with the Confederate States Army in 1863 by a con man (Lee J. Cobb) and subsequently sentenced for desertion to a year's solitary confinement in a Texas stockade. Ticketed for a substantial budget, the film lost some funding but endures as an example of a work influenced by Sergio Leone and other directors of "Spaghetti Westerns", most apposite in the opening scenes depicting an attempted widescale breakout from the wretched stockade by largely hapless prisoners. Shot in northern Mexico's Guadiana Valley, the work chronicles Macho's eventual escape and reunion with his former partner in crime Juan (Pedro Armendariz, Jr.), his killing of a Confederate officer, and the pursuit of the outlaw pair by those hoping to benefit from a cash reward tendered by the slain officer's widow (Jean Seberg). The lowered budget proves not to be a major burden, although there are some embarrassments, notably a poorly edited scene wherein a charging black bear is obviously a man in an ursine costume, but very fine contributions from Gerry Fisher behind the camera and Ted Marshall's production and set designing more than balance the scales. A lack of continuity results from confusing moments when motivation for actions seems to be lacking, but here also strong performances from most of the cast offset this to a large extent, and director Bernard Kowalski properly focusses upon the relationship between the characters portrayed by Janssen and Seberg. A self-consciously moody affair, MACHO profits from ambiguity of motive in the performances of Janssen, Seberg, Almendariz and Bo Hopkins, with the efforts of all involved combining to create what well may be an anti-feminist classic, and one largely devoid of symbolic trappings.