TOMBSTONE: Blu-Ray (Hollywood Pictures/Cinergi 1993) Buena Vista Home Video

One of the finest westerns ever, director, George P. Cosmatos’ Tombstone (1993) touches upon many of the central themes made justly famous in pictures like 1957's Gunfight at the O.K. Corral and 1946's My Darling Clementine. Yet, with all due respect paid to John Ford, arguably, the greatest proponent the Hollywood western has ever known, the emotional groundswell Cosmatos achieved in Tombstone tops even Ford’s monumental achievements in retelling this intimate friendship between two legendary figures from the American west – law man, Wyatt Earp and gambler, Doc Holliday – miraculously brought to fruition in the embodiment of this film’s two great stars, Kurt Russell and Val Kilmer respectively. Indeed, Tombstone was the movie that made me fall in love with the Hollywood western – a genre I dutifully confess to having rather embarrassingly neglected up till then, even miserably failing to appreciate for its finer nuances.  But in Tombstone, it was all there – the tender-hearted camaraderie between men, made of decision, who shared a vision and take action to see it through; the vainglorious struggle to tame this rugged frontier; valor, bravery and basic human decency – intangibles oft excised from ‘then contemporary’ picture-going or worse, reflected upon as quaintly archaic principles lacking any genuine meaning or social context. Yet, here was a movie unapologetic in extolling such virtues, refreshingly to forgo challenging its precepts, applied from a post-modern revisionist’s theory and/or reinvented as possible vices. Instead, there emerged a subtler (for lack of a better descriptor) charm to the piece – its heritage, lent breathtaking clairvoyance by Robert Mitchum’s introspective narration.

I do not doubt silent film star, Tom Mix openly wept at Wyatt Earp’s funeral in 1929; Earp, having lived long enough to see the west he so loved, fought and bled over, transformed from no bigger than a straggle of trading outposts stretching to the sea, into an evolving mecca of opportunity; longer still, to witness the heroics of his own time mythologized all out of proportion, only to be bastardized in the very best B-grade tradition of ‘cowboys vs Indians’ Saturday matinee fluff. For Mix, and others who came to typify a certain stylized knock-off of this manly grace, reconstituted for the popcorn munchers, though never again to exhibit as much raw sincerity and respect for these open plains, Earp’s loss to the ages was epic. Even so, time and legacy had already conspired by 1929 to obfuscate the truth. The brothers Earp – Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan – were in steep competition with the Clanton-McClaury ranchers for political and economic governance over Tombstone, Arizona. This festering conflict, forever eulogized after that infamous display of cold lead killed three at the O.K. Corral, the Earps and Holliday were later exonerated of any wrongdoing.

Alas, their victory dovetailed into an even more embittered feud thereafter. During these subsequent attacks Virgil lost an arm and Morgan’s wife was left a widow. Flying solo and outside his jurisdiction as U.S. Marshal, Wyatt, together with Holliday, exacted their pound of flesh on Frank Stillwell – Morgan’s killer, and, later, Florentino Cruz, also suspected of the murder. At this journey’s end, Wyatt wandered from town to city unfulfilled, operating a saloon in San Francisco, raising thoroughbreds in San Diego, joining the Alaskan and Nevadan gold rushes, before becoming a western consultant in the American film industry – ostensibly enough adventure to satisfy any man’s wanderlust. Just not Earp. His inability to publish his memoirs while he lived remained a bitter regret. However, this fallow period was followed by a renaissance not even Earp could fathom as his early life and times, greatly embellished by journalist, Stuart Lake, became a publishing phenomenon, effectively to crystalize the myth of Wyatt Earp and mark his everlasting importance as the greatest law man in this ‘wild west’ pantheon.

Tombstone mostly, follows in this laudatory tradition, lionizing Earp’s iconography as well as that of his lesser-remembered brethren and best friend, Doc Holliday as larger-than-life figures who reigned as the living monuments to truth, justice, and what eventually became ensconced and interwoven into our collective conscience and social fabric as ‘the American way’. Kevin Jarre’s screenplay is intensely dedicated to preserving this mythology with a sort of living grandeur and ever-so-slightly sycophantic devotion to maintain the mystique, long-since wrought. But Jarre’s efforts are also invested in an underlay of exquisite character development. More than any other western saga made before or since, Tombstone endeavors to understand the Earps and Holliday as fallible creatures, rough-hewn in flesh and blood, though as easily devasted as deified by their fellow citizens. Tombstone was primarily shot by cinematographer extraordinaire, William A. Fraker. Initially, Jarre had ambitions to direct the picture himself, but fast fell behind schedule, necessitating his replacement with Cosmatos. This, in turn, created hard-feelings between producer, Andrew Vajna and co-star, Michael Biehn, who was a close friend.

While Biehn believed Cosmatos’ lacked an appreciation for Jarre’s script, Cosmatos arrived on the set with his own exacting and fanatical work ethic. This did not sit well with Fraker. But there was very little time to debate the point as star, Kurt Russell and producer, James Jack set about the task of paring down Jarre’s meandering screenplay, deleting some of its more distracting vignettes, while amplifying the friendship between Wyatt and Doc. Cosmatos concurred with their efforts, believing the picture’s strength lay in extolling the virtues of this buddy-buddy relationship, adding, “The emotion is the most important thing in a movie. If you care about your people, you have a movie.” The other great devotion Cosmatos brought to the project was in achieving period authenticity. From props to costuming, and even mustaches – all real – Cosmatos endeavored to recreate the western milieu right down to its last detail.

Drawing on artistic sensibilities from such stalwart film-makers as John Ford, Fred Zinneman, John Sturges, Michael Curtiz and Sergio Leone, Cosmatos infused Tombstone with a level of heartfelt sincerity for the work itself. This remained his singular salvation in keeping the project on track, and, maintain civility between the various disparate factions of cast and crew, as yet unwilling to fully embrace him as the new captain of their ship, from walking off the set. Although the directorial credit for Tombstone would remain exclusively with Cosmatos, felled by illness, he was forced to withdraw from the project after less than 50% of the movie was in the can. Faced with a possible shutdown or even cancellation of the project, Kurt Russell approached producers with the novel idea of allowing him to continue on as both star and director, rather magnanimously refusing to take any credit for these latter efforts. When the movie had its premiere, not everyone was impressed with the results. And although Tombstone has since gone on to be revered, in some cases, ranking among the top 5 greatest westerns ever made, at the time it hit theaters, at the tail end of the holiday season, it was widely overlooked or unfairly dismissed. In acknowledging his own indifference to the picture some years later, the late Roger Ebert was to reflect “…every time I see Russell or Val Kilmer… I'm reminded of their Tombstone, which got lost in the year-end holiday shuffle and never got the recognition it deserved.”

Tombstone is loosely based on that fabled iconography that continues to linger as part of the Wyatt Earp mythology; Earp (Kurt Russell) arriving in Tombstone along with brothers, Virgil (Sam Elliot) and Morgan (Bill Paxton), and, gambler/outlaw, Doc Holliday (Val Kilmer) to face down notorious criminals. Quietly eschewing a major historical fact - the Earps were tried, but acquitted of a botched Wells Fargo robbery – Jarre's screenplay instead chooses to tread on the more familiar sagebrush and tumbleweed, clearly delineated as good vs. unmitigated evil. Having cleaned up Dodge City, the Earps are anxious to start anew and let their reputations as lawmen quietly fade into the sunset. Doc Holliday, already afflicted with tuberculosis, refuses to settle down. Indeed, the wily gunslinger/gambler with a genteel Southern drawl is poised to conquer the simple-minded card players using every cheap cheat in the book. Unfortunately for all, shortly after arriving in Tombstone Wyatt’s respect for the law is put to the test when Curly Bill Broscius (Powers Boothe) accuses the Earps and Doc Holliday of interfering in his illegal gambling operations. Although a showdown is narrowly averted when Wyatt informs Broscius he is officially retired, and therefore disinterested in Broscius' affairs, Broscius' henchman, Johnny Ringo (Michael Biehn) takes an immediate dislike to Doc, thereby establishing a level of animosity to later erupt into violence.

Encouraged by the townsfolk to help rid their town of Broscius and his men, Wyatt, at first, refuses to take up the badge until Tombstone's Marshal, Fred White (Harry Carey Jr.) is ruthlessly gunned down in cold blood by Broscius. Taken into custody by Wyatt – but later acquitted during trial - as no witnesses to the crime can be found - Broscius is released from jail and quickly sets his sights on getting even with the Earps. In response to the threat, Virgil becomes Tombstone's Marshal, escalating the showdown between the Earps and Broscius at the O.K. Corral. During this legendary gunfight, three of Broscius' men are gunned down and Virgil and Morgan, both wounded. Law and order are temporarily restored. Alas, the Earps are ambushed by Broscius loyalist, Frank McLaury (Robert John Burke). Morgan is killed and Virgil's arm is maimed for life. A despondent Wyatt packs up. However, realizing he will never be rid of Broscius, Wyatt announces he has become the new U.S. Marshal and fully intends to hunt down any man wearing a red sash - the signature fashion accessory of Broscius' henchmen. Wyatt is waylaid by Broscius, but manages to kill his would-be assassin, leaving Johnny Ringo in charge of the cowboys. As Doc's health deteriorates, Wyatt is forced to leave him at the home of a close friend, Henry Hooker (Charlton Heston). There, Wyatt is reunited with Josephine Marcus (Dana Delany), a saloon performer he first flirted with during his early days in Tombstone. Ringo sends a messenger to Hooker's ranch. Not realizing Doc has already departed for the rendezvous, Wyatt sets off to confront Ringo. In the ensuing duel, Doc dispatches with Ringo before collapsing to his knees. He is rushed by Wyatt to a nearby sanitarium where he succumbs to his tuberculosis, though not before he pledges Wyatt to commit himself to Josephine. Having made his promise, Wyatt finds Josephine and proposes.  As the couple dance together, Robert Mitchum’s postscript eloquently charts the remainder of Wyatt’s life; his funeral, giving pause for silent matinee idol, Tom Mix to openly weep.   

Tombstone is a real/reel western saga – the kind, Hollywood had not produced in a very long time, so transparently conceived, though never contrived in its bro-mantic love for Wyatt Earp it cannot help but touch off a powder keg of appreciation for the man, made over as a legend, not only in his own time, but ostensibly, for all time. Hard-hitting on the surface, but with a genuine soft-hearted message about inescapable destiny, Tombstone excels at meticulously establishing, then, as methodically, and, with as much tragic aplomb, tearing apart the camaraderie of this close-knit company of gallant men, until only the last one standing is able to recall - even glorify, through rose-colored glasses, no less – the onslaught of conflict on the open range, and, the inevitable founding of a legacy in lieu of truth, ripened with the march of time. It is perhaps noteworthy to recall Tombstone had a rather awkward gestation. Buena Vista refused to distribute the film if Willem Dafoe – Jarre’s original choice – was cast as Doc Holliday, leaving the door open for Val Kilmer to give the greatest performance of his career. On set, Russell clashed with Jarre over a script he believed was at least 20-pages too long. After Jarre’s exit, Russell trimmed several back stories and secondary characters. But the final insult was Cosmatos – felled by illness, leaving Russell in the director’s chair with only half the movie completed – only to claim, in subsequent interviews, he – Cosmatos – had actually directed the whole movie. Receiving a rather tepid reception at the box office – barely earning a little over double its $25 million outlay, Tombstone had some stiff competition from Lawrence Kasdan’s Wyatt Earp (1993). Viewed today, however, Tombstone is so clearly the winner – its ruminations on an irrefutable prodigy of the old west, implanted onto an old-fashioned saga and steeped in a visual grandeur, to live on, likely for as long as movies endure.

Buena Vista’s Blu-Ray is, in a word, problematic. I am sincerely at a loss to explain the badly fumbled transfer on tap here. While Tombstone exhibits bold, rich and vibrant colors, contrast is more than a tad anemic. Scenes shot at night are plagued by a milky transparency that dulls natural blacks into tonal variants of deep, dark gray. The curiosity here is that much of this 1080p transfer sports amazing clarity and fine detail. Still, the image toggles between near perfection, and scenes that are mercilessly riddled in ill-conceived and untoward edge effects, and artificial sharpening, and, excessive DNR applied to homogenize grain levels, resulting in waxy images. Point blank, Tombstone on Blu-ray as a short-sighted mess.  Ringing halos are everywhere. Ditto for aliasing and shimmering of fine details. Black crush intermittently intrudes. Given the travesty that is this video-mastering effort, the near perfect DTS 5.1 audio seems almost a very bad joke. The movie looks like crap, but sounds fantastic?!? Compressed onto this disc, nearly a half-hour ‘making of’ divided into 3-parts; also, original storyboards, a teaser and theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Tombstone is a seminal western. It deserves an infinitely better transfer than what’s on tap here. Please, Criterion – get your hands on this one for a new 4K scan and reissue. For now - not recommended! Regrets.

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

2

EXTRAS

2.5