The Magnificent Seven

I recently subjected "The Magnificent Seven" to just about the toughest test imaginable--I watched it just a few days after "Seven Samurai." And while I'm not going to pretend it's on par with Kurosawa's astounding masterpiece, I have to tip my hat to Hollywood on this one: it's good, DAMN good, among the best American Westerns.

The focus of the screenplay is more on post-Bogart-pre-Eastwood cool banter than the gradual, taciturn character development of "Seven Samurai," but that doesn't mean that the film doesn't have a heart. Considering it clocks in at barely over two hours (compared to the marathonic three and a half of "Samurai"), it actually does a fantastic and very economical job of fleshing out its memorable cast of characters.

One particularly wonderful scene that stuck in my memory from the first time I saw the film ten years ago is the one where Lee (Robert Vaughn), drunk in the middle of the night, confesses his frailties and fear to two of the farmers. The scene (along with the general story of these down-and-out heroes) was groundbreaking in that it began the deconstruction and deromanticization of the Western hero which would be brought to fruition in Sergio Leone's unparalleled spaghetti Westerns.

The star-studded cast wouldn't hold up doing Shakespeare, but they're ideal in this gunslinging, cool-talking tough-guy adventure. As if a lineup of heroes that included Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen, Charles Bronson, and James Coburn wasn't enough, Eli Wallach steals the show as the Mexican bandit chief, a worthy precursor to his classic role "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly." If the screenplay has a major flaw, it's that his character isn't featured more.

The score is, of course, one of the all-time classics. And while not as alive visually as the Japanese film that inspired it or the Italian Westerns it influenced, it's still mighty fine to look at, and the gunfights don't disappoint.

The pieces add up to one of the great entertaining films of all time, which still manages to be moving and morally aware despite its Hollywoodization of Kurosawa's vision.

This is considered one of the all-time great westerns: a real classic, and I can't argue. I've seen a number of faster-moving and better westerns but few with a cast this good that's still entertaining. I never get tired of seeing the stars in this movie. How often are actors like Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen, Charles Bronson, James Coburn and Eli Wallach boring.....or all in the same movie? Not too often. Throw in Robert Vaughn and Horst Buchholz and you have a memorable cast.

As "cool" as McQueen was in his day, in this film Brynner was the "coolest" guy. Just the intense look on his face with those piercing eyes and deep voice command attention whenever he's on screen. Meanwhile, nobody but nobody played a Mexican villain better than Wallach.

The "good guys" in this classic movie are all professional killers and show their human side by admitting their weaknesses and the emptiness of their profession. No one says it better here than Bronson, who gives a couple of very powerful "sermons" to some young boys.

A solid western and a pretty famous theme song, too! It's also another good example of showing some real tough guys who can be convincing without profanity. Can you imagine the dialog if this film was re-made today?!

I've seen both the American and Japanese versions many times, and while everyone agrees about which one is better, the American version has some virtues: 1) Our heroes are selected by the farmers when they defend a dead Indian's right to be buried in the same place as white people; therefore they are seen as champions of social and racial equality by the farmers. 2) A magnificent villain played by Eli Wallach. 3) Charlie Bronson's relationship with the village boys. And some tremendous faults: 1) Combining the Young Student and Crazy Fool characters; some of the most poignant scenes in the Japanese version involved the interaction between these two. 2) Not filming the final battle in the rain. And of course many more of each. It's an interesting discussion. Both are great movies that shouldn't be missed. Remember that Kurosawa gave John Sturges a sword in appreciation after seeing his film.

Every year a Mexican bandit and his large gang of forty thieves harass and plunder a poor farming village south of the American border. They take what they need in provisions from the increasingly impoverished inhabitants. Deciding that enough means ENOUGH (and the wise old man in the village advises that it is DO or DIE), the village elders recruit gunmen from the US to defend them. The actual recruiting of six of the motley crew of gunslingers is done by top American gunman, the grim Chris Adams (Yul Brynner), dressed in black. The wages are only twenty dollars but chow is included, and it is good Mexican food (as the Americans discover). Each one of the defenders has his own reasons for volunteering, and not necessarily as a sense of doing the right thing (one of the men is a soldier of fortune). The men have various talents. For instance, one is a sharpshooter; another is handy with a knife. Much of the film is obviously a build-up to the final confrontation between the "good guys" and the banditos.

Outside of the rousing action-packed sequences, this movie has four merits: the actors, the cinematography, Elmer Bernstein's Oscar-nominated music score, and the on-location filming in Mexico. Stars and future stars like Yul Brynner, Charles Bronson, Steve Mc Queen, Robert Vaughn, and James Coburn do not disappoint. Eli Wallach, the future "Tuco," stars as an appropriate pitiless Mexican leader Calvera, who is not without his own concerns. Of course, with so many personalities, actors "battle" for screen time. There is an underlying message in this movie (and in subsequent remakes) that is overlooked: Mexico was a place of anarchy where the federal government could not always keep law and order.

John Sturges' western was lifted from Akira Kurosawa's "Seven Samurai" (1954), perhaps the greatest movie ever filmed in Japan. In this original version, seven unemployed samurai swordsmen are also hired to fight bandits who terrorize a village. But Kurosawa made a superior film showing the importance of the code of honor of the defenders along with their three-dimensional character development (the film's length was much longer). He even showed a sketch of the Japanese village and the name (or symbols) of each of the bad guys. So when one of them was bumped off, one of the samurai would cross off his name from the bandit list. This helps the audience understand the defensive strategy and what was happening in the battles as the number of the bandits diminished.

Nevertheless, "The Magnificent Seven" does stand on its own merits in the heyday of American westerns as a very good movie to enjoy. Even though the pacing is slow, it remains worthwhile watching.

What could have been a fairly routine western is lifted into the realm of classic thanks to some smart casting, sturdy direction and a rousing music score. A reworking of Akira Kurosawa's "Seven Samurai", the story concerns a Mexican village which is constantly pillaged by bandit Wallach and his small army of followers. Three of the villagers hire a mix of gunslingers to come back to protect and defend the town and rid it of the oppressors. Brynner leads the group (seven in total, hence the title) as they teach the farmers how to use a gun and prepare the town for the eventual onslaught from Wallach. The already tough odds are lengthened when some of the villagers begin to lose faith in the power of the seven. Brynner is solid in the lead role (though, unfortunately, his later role in "Westworld" adds an odd shading to his character here.) He, McQueen and Coburn define the word cool as they go about their various exploits before and after they join forces. McQueen and Coburn are men of few words, but of fierce actions when necessary. Bronson (rather young and handsome, though still a little craggy looking) does his best with a pretty mushy storyline involving the youth of the village. Buchholz overacts feverishly as a determined, but inexperienced youth. Vaughn seems a tad out of place and has one major ham moment during a nightmare. Dexter (easily the most often forgotten member of the group) has a few moments, but his character is not particularly defined. Wallach excels in the showy role of the chief bandit. His brash performance is a great counterpoint to the more steely and solemn title gunmen. The villagers come off as hapless and pitiful, for the most part. Along the way, there are several memorable vignettes that showcase the charm of the actors involved. The casting director did an almost miraculous job of using known stars and picking supporting actors who would soon be just as big so that the film now has virtually an all-star cast. The biggest shot in the arm of all is the monumental score by Elmer Bernstein. The instantly recognizable title music is just one of the many great pieces he created for the film. The sometimes laconic story is carried a long way by his score. The concept of disparate characters being brought together for a common cause has been done many times, but rarely with this level of quality. It's sometimes hard to believe that the film was made in 1960 as its look, content and cast make it seem like a later film. It was definitely a touchstone in the development of the western film.