Wild Bill

Most reviews seem to look at this through the prism of "Deadwood," which seems unfair as the elongated TV format allows for far more character development. So to point out that the characters in "Wild Bill" aren't as-- well, you get the picture. Viewed alone, the movie deserves praise for performance, set design, a sense of period dialogue and historical accuracy in visual recreations. Yes, WB really did wear Navy Colts backwards, cavalry-style, in a red sash; yes, he did have greasy lanks of hair and wear a big floppy hat, a thick tie and a vest that didn't match his jacket which didn't match his pants. And for about an hour, I think the movie is pretty amusing. But when it sinks into Deadwood over its last hour, it appears to use too much of the stagey dialogue of one of its sources, a play by someone named Thomas Babe. At this point, it pretty much abandons history which is bad enough, but also cinematic fluency, of which Hill is a master: it becomes static, talky, dreary, and completely loses its momentum. And someone--Babe?--made the decision to give the McCall-Hickcock dynamic an Oedipal overtone--he's the "son" of a woman once loved , then abandoned, by Hickcock. This is an attempt at coherency, to bring the murder into some sort of classic framework. Yeah, swell, however: McCall was much older, a buffalo hunter who'd lost dough to Wild Bill the night before. He didn't stand for the abused son, he stood for the randomness of frontier violence, where booze, pride, stupidity and a culture of pointless aggression could easily spell an ambush murder like McCall's. THAT, to me, would not only have been more accurate, but more fluent and a better movie.

The Wild West grew out of myth and partially true folklore. Hollywood grew for the same reasons. Put the two together to construct a story about the last days of Wild Bill and what do you get? Well…you get something that's exciting, brutal, nasty and short – and very little of it truthful.

Walter Hill is one of Tinsel Town's better producer/directors, no question; and his experience at producing great thrillers (like the Alien series) serves him (and the viewer) well. Because this is a thrilling tale: of a man who was in fact a legend in his own time (like Buffalo Bill, Billy the Kid, Butch Cassidy and many others), and of a man who obviously didn't relate too well with people in general. Maybe Wild Bill thought that he'd been dealt a raw deal from day one? Who knows...?

And that's the upside of this narrative as well as its Achilles Heel – because if you read the history of Wild Bill, you'll find that most of this film is pure fiction. Trouble is, most of what you read about Wild Bill is pure fiction, also. And the sources I researched admit it: nobody knows the real truth about how Wild Bill died EXCEPT he did die while playing poker in a saloon. Beyond that, all else, it appears, is up for grabs – which means that any writer/producer can develop a story that provides a reasonable probability of what might have happened.

So, don't pay any heed to reality in this film, beyond the very detailed settings, props, costumes, accents, language – the general mise-en-scene. The story, some of which is told in flashback, is generally fast-paced, with the possible exception of when Bill visits the Chinese opium dens in Deadwood for some light relief, shall I say? But, those episodes also give the director/cinematography the opportunity to play around with camera angles, shimmering scenes, and such like.

What I particularly liked about this movie were the scenes of mid-nineteenth century small towns across USA. Those images compare very well with genuine photos I've seen of that time, particularly those of Deadwood. So, hats off to the production team for those flawless settings, arguably the best I've seen on film to date. In fact, this film is worth seeing for that alone.

In contrast, there's a major error that is just unforgivable, considering the overall standard of the production: in the final battle scene between Wild Bill and five tough bounty hunters, Bill shoots them all dead with his two revolvers, both of which looked like 1858 or 1861 Remingtons. Those guns are six-shooters. In the gun battle, Wild Bill shoots at least sixteen shots, and maybe eighteen, all without reloading! Don't worry – I checked it by counting those shots, again and again, while going through the battle slowly. What a shame that goof wasn't caught before the film was released...

However, the cast is great, particularly Jeff Bridges and John Hurt (as the fictional character, Charley Prince, invented for narrative purposes), both of whom are ably supported by Ellen Barkin as Calamity Jane and David Arquette as Jack McCall. Jeff Bridges must be highlighted for special mention: his costumes and general manner look stunningly true to life when compared with real photos of that long dead gunfighter.

As a piece of history, forget it. As rip-snorting entertainment, go see it, especially if you love the Western genre. Highly recommended.

Historians may scoff, but Walter Hill's "Wild Bill" is an absorbing and intriguing western with elegiac overtures yet much of the emphasis placed on the battles. Jeff Bridges does a fine job as scruffy, mangy, weathered James Butler Hickok in the 1870s Midwest, getting into brutal fights while doing nothing more than standing at a bar (John Hurt's narration tells us, "Being 'Wild' Bill was in itself a profession."). Ellen Barkin plays Calamity Jane like a lovestruck toughie who clucks behind Hickok, waiting for a commitment; David Arquette is Jack McCall, a young man defending the honor of his mother, whom Hickok loved and left. Occasionally, director Hill hits a stumbling block (there's an inconsequential bit with Keith Carradine as Buffalo Bill Cody which disconnects the mood, and also a black-and-white flashback filmed in high-contrast where Hickok attempts to talk sensibly with a no-nonsense Indian tribe). Still, the hand and gun bouts are fully charged with adrenaline, and there's a genuine feel for these sad, meandering people that recalls strong sections from other westerns, particularly "McCabe and Mrs. Miller". A bumpy film, but not a bad one at all. **1/2 from ****

In Wild Bill we get to see one of the best characterizations of the legendary western character. Jeff Bridges joins a pantheon of great players who've essayed the part of the marshal of Abilene, Kansas. Folks like William S. Hart, Gary Cooper, Roy Rogers, Guy Madison, Bill Elliott, Forrest Tucker, and Charles Bronson have all played Hickok with varying degrees of success.

Some of these people have played Hickok more or less nobly as the script and their screen persona permitted. Someone like Roy Rogers you know without seeing the film had Hickok be a straight arrow. The real Wild Bill was someone who was as tough as he had to be to enforce law and order in a wild and woolly town like Abilene, Kansas circa 1870-1871 when Hickok kept the peace there.

Among those other actors who played Hickok also includes Jeff's father Lloyd Bridges who did it in an hour television drama on the Great Adventure series. I saw that years ago and I wish I could remember more of it so I could compare father and son. The part I best recall is the famous story of Hickok accidentally shooting his own deputy who made the fatal mistake of coming up behind him too quietly and after he'd just shot one of Texas's rowdier cowboys. It's part of the Hickok legend and shown here as well.

Of course the manner of Hickok's death has also entered into folklore with wide and varying accounts of the kind of man Hickok's killer Jack McCall was. He was probably closer to the sneaky rat that Cecil B. DeMille had Porter Hall play him as in The Plainsman. Here he's shown as a drunk and scared kid played by David Arquette much in the same manner as Bob Ford was played by Casey Affleck last year. Arquette does well in the role.

Ellen Barkin is cast as Calamity Jane and while she's as tough as the famous frontierswoman, she's way too good looking. Too bad Louis B. Mayer never thought of using Marie Dressler for the part back in the day. Even she was a little too femme for the part.

The film is done in Citizen Kane style, narrated by John Hurt who is a close friend of Hickok in the story. It's a pretty good western, coming out when those are few and far between.

Walter Hill has based his screenplay on two literary works by two individuals: Paul Dexter's book and Thomas Babe's play. Hill is a good screenplay-writer himself. I recommend viewers to view the film as an example of a good screenplay and not be unduly worried about facts.

The structure of the narrative is simplified by the sepia and black-and-white flashbacks by the director. Unlike other directors, Hill chooses to uses tilted shots for most of these flashbacks, suggesting a "colored" viewpoint of what is shown.

The film can be dismissed easily as a crass action western--but this film looks at bravura narcissism (opening shots of shooting a glass on top of a dog's head), a man who refuses to be tied down to relationships with women but is friendly with men, stupid reactions to knocking his hat, etc. The heroics may belong to the mustachioed men rather than the clean-shaven but the film has more to offer than hairy faces.

The casting of John Hurt, Bruce Dern and Ellen Barkin is commendable--they provide fascinating screen time that adds to the credibility. Hurt and Barkin who open the film carries the film even though Jeff Bridges proves to be a credible lead player but he is no great thespian.

The film ultimately belongs to Hill and art director Dan Olexiewicz, with the atmosphere changes from bright sun to slushy streets--that strangely keeps pace with the characters. Hill develops the characters slowly through filmed flashback and dream sequences (visit of Wild Bill to the insane asylum, the conversations with Red Indians, are examples) rather than the spoken word of the main character and that contributes to the feeling that most characters are not fleshed out. They are well developed, in an unusual way. This is not great cinema but above average stuff--a good way to describe Hill's body of work.