Review by robbyhggs

. The title, Livin' by the Gun, identifies the film as a morality play, so even before the violent opening sequence, we expect that the hero will also die by the gun. The story is similar to the arguable exemplar of the genre, George Stevens' Shane: a noble man turned gun fighter and trapped by his past. In Stevens' version the gun fighter is sympathetic because he exemplifies the 40s-50s hero—a man of integrity, alone, misunderstood, yet of high moral character. Miller's protagonist, Uncle, however, is considerably more complex. He spends a good deal of his life as a gun for hire, apparently frighteningly indifferent to the suffering of others. In fact, in countless scenes he shows little or no emotion as he plies his ruthless trade. At one point, Uncle shoots two young bounty hunters who are trying to apprehend him. The callow youths do not die immediately or easily, so after they endure a night of unspeakable suffering, Uncle dispatches them quickly, perhaps to put them out of their misery, or possibly because their constant moaning is an annoyance. At this point, we are not sure whether Uncle is a cold-blooded sociopath with poor impulse control, or a man trapped by circumstances. Perhaps he still possesses a divine spark that if nurtured, could lead him to nobility. As it turns out, Uncle is indeed transformed into his better self, at least temporarily, through the love of a hooker with a heart of gold, and the kindness of a God-fearing, elderly, Christian couple, but alas, it is too late. The die has been cast. Uncle's niece is mistakenly convinced that he is the source of her family's dire straits, so early in the film she sets out on a parallel path to avenge her family. A young girl alone in woods, armed, and searching for the object of her revenge will inevitably be put in the position of defending herself and others. Soon her body count, including unintended victims, rivals her uncle's. Yet she, too, is temporarily redeemed by love, and like her uncle reverts to relying on her earlier limited problem solving set (kill it) when life's vicissitudes bring bitter disappointments and injustices that are just too much to bear.

Miller's film brings to mind Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch. Released in 1969 it set the standard for cinema violence. While Miller doesn't rival Peckinpah in number killed, his percentage of the cast killed is very high. I counted thirty-two killed and I'm sure I missed some. So why all the violence? Everyone knows that if you live by sword, you die by the sword. We knew that before the film started. Yet the atomistic myth of self-reliance that exemplifies the genre too often overlooks the compelling evidence that man is a social animal in a social setting, and the decisions about how we live our lives has a ripple effect. If violence is one's only or preferred solution set, it's impossible to know the limit of those who will be affected. Miller's story reminds us of the collateral damage that such an approach to life will of necessity inflict. The lesson is as old as the scene in the Garden of Gethsemane and as modern as reoccurring present-day tragedy of the toddler killed by a drive-by shooter aiming for a rival gang member. So, if you're squeamish regarding film violence, be prepared to spend a good portion of the film with your eyes covered.

Miller's love of the Gold Country shines through the mud and the mayhem much as Woody Allen's love of Manhattan does in his films. Like some Coen Brothers films, the location plays an integral and major though silent role; it is ever present, impossibly beautiful, and in marked contrast to the death and ugliness of soul perpetrated by the human members of the cast. Another delightful surprise was a haunting and skillful original score and engaging vocals.

So if you're looking for a slick Hollywood production complete with movie stars or a 50's type western, this will not be your cup of tea. If what you want is a truly beautiful film with an excellent score then Livin' by the Gun is for you.