MINDLESS MUSINGS

THE GUNFIGHTER (1950)

Long before the term “toxic masculinity” was coined, film makers have been deconstructing the idea of machismo and heroism. One genre in particular has an intimate relationship with the theme – the western. While it is true that most protagonists in these movies are stoic tough guys, not all are portrayed as one dimensional as the stereotype suggests. Good guys and bad guys often operate in the grey zone between righteousness and evil. Most great westerns, even the over-the-top shoot-em-ups present characters with some kind of internal conflict; maybe not multi-layered, more kind of questioning the path they are on.

“Unforgiven” (1992) is arguably the greatest deconstruction of the western movie, and all its motifs. As a young man I thought it was the first, beside comedies and satire, to rip in like it did. After many more years watching and rewatching countless westerns, I have realised that critiquing the concepts of its own genre was very often one of the very tropes of these films:

• What makes a man strong/brave?
• What makes a person good or bad?
• Is anyone all one or the other?
• Can a bad person or a coward find redemption?

A western without nuance can be a boring affair.

And so, we meet Johnny Ringo, The Gunfighter. Fastest gun in the west. As soon as he is recognized, the conversation swiftly turns to his showdown prowess. Yes, Johnny is a one-dimensional character in the eyes of strangers at least. Just a walking yardstick for anyone who wants to take the fatal test.

Trouble is, Ringo is getting really tired of being every wannabe gunslinger’s chance at fame. He has finally figured out how hollow, not to mention dangerous, being so infamous is. A lonely life with no home; always on the move and always looking over your shoulder.

Shit, imagine the paranoia! Every man you killed has at least one person looking for revenge. Every stupid young punk with a point to prove seeing you as some sort of title shot; not everyone looking for a fair fight neither. Especially against a seasoned killer like Ringo.

I remember laughing so hard during “Little Big Man” (1970) when Jack Crabb hangs out with Wild Bill Hickock. Jack is so chuffed to sit beside such a famous bad-ass and is genuinely confused by Bill’s hypervigilance and anxiety. After asking Bill what he’s so nervous about, Wild Bill flatly replies, “gettin’ shot…gettin’ shot”. Who wouldn’t?

The Gunfighter opens with Ringo entering a bar minding his own business. Pretty soon the local quick draw blowhard tries his luck and learns the lethal lesson. Ringo had no choice but to defend himself, thus he is clear in the eyes of the law. A barman informs him that the dearly departed dueller he just beat fair and square (or technically with a handicap since he waited for the soon to be corpse to draw first) has 3 brothers who won’t be much interested in sporting chances and such. Notch up another kill and 3 brand new mortal enemies for Johnny Ringo.

Ringo hits the trail and the brothers are soon in pursuit. Rather than try to outrun them, Ringo lays in wait and ambushes his aspiring assassins. One might expect Ringo to kill them, but instead he disarms them and sets their horses free giving himself a nice long headstart. Ringo doesn’t kill in cold blood apparently.

This is the first incident in this film that reminds me of “Carlito’s Way” (1993). Carlito has had enough of up-and-comer Benny Blanco and finally snaps. Benny ends up battered and sprawled at the bottom of a metal staircase. Carlito’s right-hand-man Pachanga insists they must kill Blanco and is more than keen to do the deed. Carlito relents in what seems like an exhausted attempt at stopping the cycle of violence. Similar to Ringo and just as foolish.

Ringo uses his extra time riding to the town of Cayenne for his own attempt at redemption. He wants to find his wife Peggy, whom he hasn’t seen in 8 years, and his son, who doesn’t know he exists.

The town marshal, Mark Stratton, turns out to be an old friend of Ringo who has given up the outlaw life. Although he still appears drawn to the wild side having chosen such a risky profession. He later tells Ringo a tragic tale of him and his gang running amok somewhere with guns blazing. An innocent girl got killed in the chaos and no one could ever be sure who shot her. That was the last straw for Stratton.

Although, just like Ringo he wasn’t cut out for much in terms of an honest living. So, he didn’t lay down his guns entirely and turned his hand to keeping the peace instead. A small blessing for not being a famous shootist like Ringo; the long-lost friend who just rode into town and made his job a hell of a lot more difficult.

That little anecdote seems like a neat explanation for the marshal’s change of heart. It is that, but I sense more. It is a gruesome reminder for those who may still be romanticising Ringo’s life. Yes, he the men he killed were trying to kill him, and he has a code of honour so to speak. However, we will never know if any innocent people got wounded or killed during any of this wanton violence. We must also remember that Ringo was once the young upstart looking to prove his gun toting capability. He might remember things different, but surely he provoked some of those dead men on his list into a fight they didn’t want.

Stratton trusts that Ringo’s latest slaying was in self-defence. He is also certain that the brothers with the vendetta will be arriving soon enough. Determined to avoid a bloodbath he tells Ringo to keep moving but is stonewalled by Johnny’s insistence on seeing his family before he goes.

Ringo assures the marshal that his pursuers can’t possibly get to town for a long time. Stratton accepts this and understands Ringo’s yearning to see his wife and son. He also understands that a man like Ringo has an uncanny ability to draw dim-witted troublemakers with guns like a siren’s song.

He orders Ringo to stay in the town saloon and even has a rifleman posted outside with orders to shoot if he steps out. Stratton now has two missions: find Peggy and have his deputies help him get every sick-of-living pistolero they can think of out of town until Ringo is long gone.

The number one contender for Ringo’s next victim is the young upstart Bromley. You know those famous last words, “he don’t look so good/tough/fast to me.” They can chase the early-grave applicants out but keeping them away is near impossible.

Ringo finally gets to speak to his estranged wife who has changed her last name to conceal their relationship. More evidence of the toxic fame that follows Johnny Ringo. Peggy also asks him to keep his identity from his own son to try and protect him from the curse of the blood-soaked crown.

Ringo explains his exhaustion and promises to go somewhere where he is unknown and start over. This is the starkest paradox of the ‘being a real man’ cliché. Ringo is no doubt a competent combatant, but that has many drawbacks. Not least of which is how much longer will he even be around to take care of his loved ones.

Ringo’s unrivalled skill and cunning are the very magnets drawing the relentless peril to him. He has no homestead or farming skills. No trade with which to make an honest living and provide for his family. Life expectancy of a marshal or sheriff isn’t much better than he has now, and it will plumet the moment he is recognized. The fearsome reputation he so desperately desired as a young man has all but sealed his fate.

Peggy refuses his offer but agrees to reconsider if he can find a way to live in peace. Cue Stratton to hustle Ringo out of town while the gettin’s good. You guessed it…too late!

The brothers have made it to town and the next Carlito’s Way inspiration kicks off. The finale of the 1993 film has Carlito and his lover trying to escape some mafia goons and board a train to a new life. They make it after much suspense and just as they are about to get on board…fucken Benny Blanco! “Remember me?” Bang, bang.

Well Stratton’s deputies catch the vengeful trio before they can strike and apprehend them. Ringo begins his ride off into the sunset…fucken Bromley! “How ‘bout it Ringo?” he calls out seconds before shooting him in the back – dirty little fucker!

Stratton gives Bromley a sound thrashing as everyone rushes to the downed Ringo. Mortally wounded, Ringo insists that all witnesses saw a fair fight.

“Don’t do me no favours Ringo” Bromley snarls – dumbass.

With his dying breaths Ringo explains the punishment awaiting his murderer. An often-debated piece of exposition; some think it was unnecessary. Whatever way you may lean personally there is no denying the awesome retribution Ringo’s ‘favour’ ensures.

You frequently hear terms like “hanging’s too good for him”. What should be done instead? Life imprisonment at the taxpayer’s expense? Some kind of grotesque torture?

Well Bromley handed Ringo and the witnesses of his cowardly act his own comeuppance on a platter. At least hanging for first degree murder would have been quick. By handing over the gun-fighting championship title to Bromley he also bestows all the anguish and paranoia that goes with it.

There is no cash prize or profitable livelihood for the title, just some fame which might get you a few fans and will probably see men step aside for you – hell you might even get laid or offered free food and drink sometimes. For that privilege you must be ready to engage in a life and death shootout every time some aspiring asshole wants to take a shot.

A brilliant ending and one that for some reason makes me imagine a Twilight Zone episode that I cannot put my finger on.