Monte Walsh

Monte Walsh is the debut feature of cameraman-turned-director William A.Fraker. It stars Lee Marvin (Monte Walsh) & Jack Palance (Chet Rollins) as two ageing cowboys who find that the era of the cowpoke is coming to an end; and that work for them is now very hard to come by. Adapted by David Zelag Goodman & Lukas Heller from Jack Schaefer's novel, Monte Walsh is a gentle but astute telling of men who have outlived their time (think Will Penny/Ride The High Country). Though very sedate in pacing, and almost elegiac in tone, the film constantly remains interesting because the characters are so well written. That they are given quality portrayals by Marvin & Palance, the latter of which is nicely cast against type, is possibly of no surprise to most genre fans. But both actors push themselves to really make the film work, even exuding believability in the process. Thus when the story takes its potent laced turns we are with them all the way, for better or worse.

John Barry provides the music and the film opens with a delightful and ironic tune called "The Good Times Are Comin" sung by Mama Cass. The cinematography is by David M. Walsh, where he nicely manages to make the Tuscon part of the shoot blend with the emotional state of our protagonists. And decent support comes from Mitch Ryan too. There's also much humour in the piece, such as a cooks revenge that is laugh out loud funny. While there's action moments like a taming a bronco sequence to ensure the story is not solely interested in playing out as a sad atmospheric tale. But it's really all about Marvin and the character he plays, with Fraker guiding him to emotional depth, Marvin makes Monte Walsh an essential viewing for fans and interested newcomers alike. 7/10

When "Monte Walsh" appeared in 1970, I avoided it like the plague. "Who wants to see a movie about the end of an era?" I asked myself, conveniently forgetting how much I loved "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance." So, nearly 30 years later, Turner Classic Movies gave me the opportunity to correct what might have been a mistake. Had I erred in 1970? Well, yes and no. Yes, because "Monte Walsh" now joins my list of one of the five best westerns ever made; and, no, because at the tender age of 21, I would not have appreciated this masterpiece; which, in these especially troubled times, seems more relevant than ever.

According to TCM host, Robert Osborne, William Fraker directed only 4 films during his distinguished career, preferring his role as director of photography. If "Monte Walsh" is any example, then director Fraker missed his calling; as, "Monte Walsh" boasts outstanding ensemble acting, unusual unless the director is especially gifted. Many in this cast give the best performances of his or her career, particularly Jim Davis and Mitchell Ryan. "Monte Walsh" should be the role for which Marvin is remembered, as "Chet" should be the role to remember Jack Palance. It's a joy and a privilege to watch Marvin and Palance interact, even more enjoyable than Marvin and John Wayne in their frequent pairings. The first two thirds of "Monte Walsh" is largely upbeat, even in the hard times portrayed, while the final third left me both numb and aching.

"I won't p**s on 30 years of my life," is one of the many profound quotations in "Monte Walsh." It defines Monte's code of honor; a decent, loving and honorable man unwilling to compromise who he is. I give "Monte Walsh" a "10".

Here's a case of Palance putting in a great supporting role like he has done so often, a truly selfless actor with a great humility.

Seldom does an actor allow himself to look as pathetic as Palance does in his performances. This is a great film, primarily due to the metaphor near the end where Marvin tries to tame a horse, frustratingly attempting to control the nature of all things around him. The austere writing and stilted acting lend to the overall tone, creating an elegiac western greatly under-appreciated in its time. One of those small, offbeat movies awash in a decade of so many sparkling little films, each challenging the strictures of Hollywood. I loved it.

The death of the Wild West has been a recurring theme in many films. From Sam Peckinpah's 'The Ballad of Cable Hogue' to Don Siegel's 'The Shootist,' numerous movies have depicted the arrival of modernity and the end of days for cowboys and gunslingers. This transition period, often marked by the emergence of railroads, motorcars and industrialization, symbolizes a profound shift in American identity and values.

These films not only chronicle the physical changes in the landscape but also delve into the emotional and psychological impacts on those who lived through this era. The rugged individualism and frontier spirit that defined the cowboy way of life are juxtaposed against the inevitability of progress and the loss of a simpler, albeit harsher, way of life.

William A. Fraker's directorial debut, 'Monte Walsh' is a moving, powerful exploration of these themes. Set against the backdrop of a vanishing frontier, the film follows the titular character as he grapples with the inexorable march of progress. Monte, along with his friend Chet Rollins, embodies the frontier spirit that is slowly being rendered obsolete. The film poignantly captures their struggle to find purpose and identity in a world that no longer values their skills, not only telling the story of one man's journey but also serving as a broader commentary on the end of an era.

Furthermore, Monte's relationship with Martine Bernard, a prostitute, adds a deeply personal dimension to the narrative. She is more than just a love interest; she represents the human cost of the changing times. Their relationship is tender and genuine, marked by mutual respect and affection. Despite the societal stigma attached to her profession, Martine is depicted with dignity and depth.

Monte's interactions with Martine highlight his vulnerability and longing for stability in a world that is slipping away. Their moments together are the film's most poignant, and would move even the coldest of people. Their relationship serves as a microcosm of the broader changes happening in the West, illustrating how personal lives are intertwined within the larger historical shifts.

Fraker's direction brings a sense of authenticity to the film, with sweeping shots of the Western landscape emphasising the vastness and isolation of the frontier. Lukas Heller and David Zelag Goodman's screenplay brims with nuance and dramatic depth, though is also very funny in places, with sharp dialogue. In addition, David M. Walsh's cinematography contrasts the open, untamed land with the encroaching signs of civilization, complementing the narrative and enriching its themes.

The film is not just a story about the end of the cowboy era; it's a meditation on change, loss and the search for meaning in a world that is moving on. It's poignant exploration of these themes makes it a standout in the Western genre, offering a reflective, emotionally resonant experience. Moreover, John Barry's elegiac score adds a hauntingly beautiful layer, enhancing its depth. The music underscores the melancholy and nostalgia permeating the story, heightening the film's impact considerably.

Further, the film stands out not only for its thematic richness but also for its ability to evoke a deep sense of time and place. The minute attention to detail- from Albert Brenner's authentic production and costume design, to Phil Abramson's set decoration- immerses one fully in the waning days of the Wild West. It is also well-edited, with a good pace from start to finish- a testament to Fraker and the four credited editors' skills in the cutting room.

Lee Marvin stars as the titular character, delivering a nuanced, subtle performance that ranks alongside his very best. Marvin underplays the part of Monte beautifully, capturing the quiet dignity and inner turmoil of a man facing the end of his way of life. His performance is marked by a restrained intensity, allowing the character's emotions to simmer just beneath the surface. This approach not only makes Monte a deeply sympathetic figure but also adds a layer of realism to the film.

Often remembered as a heavy or a tough guy, Marvin here proves once again what a talented, intelligent actor he was; as Monte, he is unforgettable. Opposite him, Jack Palance delivers an equally compelling performance as Chet, bringing an affecting warmth and humanity to the role. He and Marvin- with whom he appeared on screen numerous times- work wonderfully together.

Additionally, Jeanne Moreau makes Martine dignified and tender, providing a strong emotional anchor for Monte. Moreau shares a believable chemistry with Marvin, her performance highlighting the personal sacrifices and emotional toll of the changing times. Mitchell Ryan also does strong work as Shorty Austin, one of Monte's fellow cowpokes, while the likes of Jim Davis, Matt Clark and G. D. Spradlin are equally commendable.

In conclusion, 'Monte Walsh' is a poignant film capturing the essence of a dying era. Through its rich characters and emotional depth, it offers a heartfelt farewell to the Wild West and the rugged individualism it represented. Quiet and compassionate, it's evocative visuals and score heightens the depth of its engaging narrative, while all in the cast perform masterfully- especially star Lee Marvin. A must-watch for Western fans, or fans of cinema in general, 'Monte Walsh' rides high in the saddle into the sunset, lingering in the mind long after the credits have rolled.

I heartily agree with the other enthusiastic reviews of this movie, so instead of repeating their comments I'll just add a couple of notes which I didn't see in anyone else's remarks.

One thing that really drew me into this movie was how, over and over, I would be watching a scene play out and there would be a _very_ few words exchanged, with minimal "dramatizing music" or other "play-ups" adding dramatic weight, and I'd just ache for more words to be said. So much was happening _to_ the characters (mostly internal, as the film focuses more on people than events) and they went through it with such a minimum of dialogue. That made a strong impression on me as it left me wanting more; wishing somehow they could make it alright by just saying more of what was obviously on their hearts.

Another thing I loved about this movie was the distinctiveness of the characters. One had false teeth; one rarely (if ever) bathed; one was called "Shorty"; and, of course, the unforgettable mugs of Palance and Marvin -- and the distinctiveness of these wasn't all simply in their appearances. Before long they started to feel like my own friends. My heart broke watching their whole world pass them by.