THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN: 4K UHD (Mirisch-Alpha, 1960) Shout! Select

It is a rarity in Hollywood that any movie reboot made from an original – much less, of foreign extraction – should arguably best its predecessor.  And yet, quite simply, John Sturges’ The Magnificent Seven (1960) does just that: a revisionist western, based loosely on Akira Kurosawa’s justly famous Seven Samurai (1954). In transposing the action from Japan to the old west, screenwriter, William Roberts – with uncredited assists by Walter(s) Bernstein and Newman – manages to reinvent, and yet, retain Kurosawa’s principled intellectual discussion about the sovereignty of man’s faith in himself and his sense of belonging to a community greater than his own needs. Initially, Yul Brynner approached indie-producer, Walter Mirisch with this high concept to ‘update’ Kurowasa’s classic. Alas, after Mirisch acquired the rights from Japan’s Toho Studios, finalizing a distribution deal with United Artists, Brynner was sued for breach of contract by actor, Anthony Quinn, who claimed he and Brynner had evolved the concept before the two suffered a professional falling-out.

Quinn lost in court as no paper trail emerged to prove his claim. But the path by which The Magnificent Seven would eventually reach the screen was very winding, and with numerous roadblocks yet to be conquered. For kick-starters, associate producer, Lou Morheim had commissioned blacklisted writer, Walter Bernstein to produce a ‘faithful’ adaptation of the original, authored by Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni and Kurosawa. The blacklist aside, as Bernstein might have continued under a pseudonym (as was readily done in those days), the creative waters were further muddied after Mirisch and Brynner took over and brought in Walter Newman to rework the material. Newman’s extensive rewrites helped to reshape the material – largely – into what eventually was seen on the screen. Alas, he proved unavailable for rewrites on location. And thus, Roberts was employed, in part, to adhere to various alterations required by the Mexican censors. Regrettably, when Roberts petitioned the Writers Guild for co-credit, Newman demanded his name be stricken from the record.

As with any ensemble piece, casting proved integral to the picture’s success. Sturges was enthusiastic about Steve McQueen with whom he had just worked on 1959’s Never So Few. Regrettably, McQueen was unable to secure his release from actor/producer, Dick Powell’s TV series, Wanted Dead or Alive (1958 – 61). Rumored on the advice of his agent, McQueen staged a car wreck, thereafter insisting a back injury and whiplash precluded his continuation on the popular series.  Granted time off to ‘recuperate’, McQueen quietly signed on to The Magnificent Seven instead. Yul Brynner did not take kindly to McQueen’s casual ‘bits of business’ (playing with props, even during scenes in which his character was meant to appear as mere background. Nevertheless, a quiet respect brewed between Brynner – who eventually came to admire McQueen’s clever scene-stealing, and, McQueen, who considered Brynner one of the genuine titans working in the industry – having straddled the creative chasm between television (then, still considered the red-headed stepchild in the entertainment biz) and the movies. Meanwhile, James Coburn – a great admirer of Seven Samurai, joined the cast on the recommendation of former classmate, Robert Vaughn, already hired to play Lee – the traumatized mercenary, expert with a knife. Mirisch liked, and signed relative unknown German actor, Horst Buchholz as Chico, the fiery shootist, with other leads rounded out by Charles Bronson (Bernardo O'Reilly, the professional in need of money) and Brad Dexter (Harry Luck, an outright fortune hunter). Bronson’s quality as the stoic loner, not to mention his uniquely angular muscular features, served him well. For the part of the notorious Mexican bandito, Calvera, Mirisch made the rather unorthodox decision in Eli Wallach. The actor’s screen debut in Elia Kazan’s Baby Doll (1956) had won him a BAFTA for Best Newcomer and a Golden Globe Best Actor nomination. Afterward, Wallach would offer something of a reprise, or perhaps ‘variation’ on the character first fleshed out herein; later seen as outlaw Charlie Gant, in the all-star Cinerama epic, How the West Was Won (1962) and later still, in Sergio Leoni’s spaghetti western classic, The Good, The Bad and the Ugly (1966) as – what else? – ‘the ugly’: Tuco. 

With very few exceptions, The Magnificent Seven was shot on location in Mexico by cinematographer, Charles Lang, in 35mm anamorphic Panavision. Cuernavaca, Durango, and Tepoztlán served as the rugged terrain for this masterpiece of manly confrontation, while interiors were made at Churubusco Studios. At the outset, the tension between Brynner and McQueen was palpable, the latter, mildly displeased his character had a scant seven lines of dialogue in the original shooting script. Determined to distinguish himself in scenes in which he neither spoke nor had any particular reason for existing – except as ensemble eye candy -  McQueen exploited every opportunity to upstage Brynner. Brynner, in fact, possessed the lion’s share of screen time. But McQueen repeatedly drew attention to himself with a slight gesture to shield his eyes from the harsh noonday sun with his Stetson, or by casually tossing a coin into the air during Brynner's lengthy monologue, or even rattling shotgun shells. Only a half inch taller than McQueen, Brynner built up a tiny mound of earth to stand on when both actors were in a two-shot, only to return moments later and discover McQueen had sneakily disturbed and flattened his pile. Despite McQueen’s subtle jabs and grandstanding, Brynner remained a true professional on the set. Hence, when a story leaked in the press, suggested he and McQueen were at each other’s throats, Brynner issued a public statement, “I never feud with actors. I feud with studios.”

The last integral element to The Magnificent Seven’s enduring success was its orchestral theme. Composer, Elmer Bernstein wrote one of the irrefutably iconic anthems in all of movie-land/western’s pantheon to be endlessly reused, lampooned and reinstated as far-reaching as a cue at Disneyland’s Big Thunder Mountain theme park attraction, to a spoof on TV’s popular sitcom, Cheers (1982-93). Bernstein’s main title, with its explosive burst of three drum chords leading into a heart-pounding clash of cymbals, remains instantly identifiable. It would also come to typify a sort of rugged manly dignity among these mercenaries, intent on restoring law and order to a small and war-ravaged Mexican outpost - mostly, to their own detriment. Immediately following this exquisite opener, with blood-red titles plastered across a backdrop of mesas, dust-laden in the sun, we are plunged into a perilous confrontation between Calvera and the inhabitants of this poor Mexican village. Calvera and his desperadoes raid the villagers for their last vestiges of food and supplies.  A defiant villager pays for his outspoken condemnation of Calvera with his life, leading the village sage (Vladimir Sokoloff) to pronounce an unofficial end to Calvera’s reign of terror. Prepared to barter for their salvation, three villagers, Sotero (Rico Alaniz), Tomás (Pepe Hern) and Miguel (Natividad Vacío) are entrusted with crossing the U.S. border to procure guns to defeat Calvera in an ambush.

Observing, Chris Adams (Brynner), a Cajun gunslinger, defend himself against several adversaries during the burial of an Indian in a white cemetery, the trio cautiously approach for a little free advice. Chris suggests hiring gunfighters as ‘men are cheaper than guns.’ Taking pity on their plight, Chris plots to help this inexperienced triumvirate recruit from the local talent. Chris’ Achilles’ Heel is that he possesses a heart, and quickly evolves a genuine affection for Tomas, Sotero and Miguel, whom he recognizes are completely out of their depth.  Despite the meager pay being offered, Chris realizes they have given everything they possess. Thereafter, he becomes personally invested. His first recruit is Vin Tanner (McQueen), a gambler gone broke and unwilling to assume the quiet life in town as a store clerk. Chris’ friend, Harry Luck (Brad Dexter), suspects his ole pal is concealing a far grander reward for the work and also signs on. In short order, the rest of the men fall into line: Irish Mexican, Bernardo O'Reilly (Charles Bronson), on hard times; Britt (James Coburn), a knife and gun expert, and, jack-a-dandy gunman, Lee (Robert Vaughn), beset by hallucinations of fallen enemies. This motley crew of disparate and desperate men are trailed by Chico (Horst Buchholz), an aspiring gunslinger, previously spurned by Chris, but now, reluctantly invited to join the group.

Back at the village, Chris and his cohorts diligently endeavor to fortify the ramshackle of huts and homes with bunkers from which they may set their ambuscade against Calvera. A curious absence of women raises the men’s ire, confirmed after Chico inadvertently stumbles upon Petra (Rosenda Monteros) and learns the women have been deliberately concealed by their men folk, erroneously to assume the gunmen would otherwise rape them. At first, deeply insulted by the villagers’ lack of faith, gradually, the gunmen and villagers warm to one another.  It is Petra who romantically pursues Chico. When Bernardo learns they are being fed the choice food, they elect to share it with the hungry village children. Meanwhile, three of Calvera’s men are sent to reconnoiter the village. Instead, they are effortlessly dispatched by the waiting gunmen. In reply, Calvera and the rest of his bandits descend upon the village. However, they are unprepared for the villagers’ wrath. In short order, the ‘seven’ and the villagers wipe out another eight of Calvera’s men, driving the bandito and his startled thug-muscle out of town. Believing Calvera will not return, the village throws a party to celebrate their short-lived victory. Alas, Chico, having infiltrated Calvera’s encampment, learns Calvera is amassing anew to take the village by force.

A handful of villagers are eager to have the gunfighters leave town – erroneously believing they can negotiate a truce with Calvera in their absence. Chris astutely reasons the village will need their help to survive. So, the ‘seven’ ride out for a surprise raid on Calvera's camp, only to discover it already abandoned. Instead, upon returning to the village, Chris and his men are intercepted by Calvera and his entourage, having colluded with a small faction of villagers to sneak in and take control. Calvera spares their lives, fearing reprisals from ‘friends of friends’ across the border. However, Chris and Vin admit they are emotionally invested in what happens to the village. Escorted to the outskirts by Calvera’s men, the seven contemplate their next move – all but Harry, concurring they must return for one final stand-off against Calvera’s tyranny. Tragically, the situation is just as Harry predicted – suicidal! Having suffered a last-minute change of heart, Harry arrives in the nick of time to spare Chris from being fatally shot. But his valor is met with his own death.

Pleading with Chris to know the true nature of their mission, Chris lies, suggesting they were after a hidden gold mine all along; hence, an honorable death in pursuit of fortune and glory. Overcoming his paralytic fear, Lee storms a house where several villagers are being held hostage, easily dispatching with their captors. Bernardo is fatally shot while protecting two village boys he earlier befriended, and shortly thereafter, Britt is felled by a bullet. Seeking vengeance, Chris murders Calvera, whose inquiry, “You came back... to a place like this? Why? A man like you? Why?” is never met with a response. As Calvera’s remaining bandits retreat in haste, the three remaining gunmen ride out of town. Observing the village from a distance, Chico elects to part from their company. He has fallen in love with Petra. Chris and Vin bid farewell to the village elder who astutely surmises only they have won the day; the gunslingers, like the wind, blown across this vacant land and pass on. As Chris and Vin ride past the graves of their fallen brethren, Chris coolly concurs, “The Old Man was right. Only the farmers won. We lost. We'll always lose.”

The Magnificent Seven is one hell of a magnificent picture. Despite some spectacularly condescending reviews – New York Time’s Howard Thompson called Sturges’ western opus magnum a “pallid, pretentious and overlong reflection of the Japanese original”, while Variety thought it ‘anti-climactic’ and ‘too magnificent’ for its own good - the movie would enter the collective consciousness of movie goers everywhere as a miraculous, virile, often rousing, and occasionally sobering meditation on the changing landscape of the American West, as reconceived for the Hollywood cameras. Charles Stinson’s praise of Sturges’ direction as “superb staccato” is likely the most accurate assessment of what he has brought to the table herein. And since its release, the picture’s reputation as a true classic has withstood the test of shifting cultural mores and tastes. There is scarcely a false moment or performance in The Magnificent Seven – with Brynner and McQueen the obvious stand-outs in this solidly cast western drama/actioner. Interestingly, The Magnificent Seven holds the dubious distinction of being the second most aired movie in television history; surpassed, only by the annual screenings of the beloved Wizard of Oz (1939). Given its immediate box office success, the picture naturally demanded a sequel, receiving three: Return of the Seven (1966), Guns of the Magnificent Seven (1969), and The Magnificent Seven Ride! (1972), incrementally, to dilute the magic and enduring popularity of the original. The Magnificent Seven also spawned a TV series that ran from 1998 to 2000 with Robert Vaughn making infrequent guest appearances as a judge. And the homages continued. 1980’s Battle Beyond the Stars transposed the western milieu into the farthest intergalactic reaches of space. Throughout the decade, various TV series also paid their tributes. Finally, in 2016, an outright remake emerged, more violently scripted, but artistically bereft of quality, it was less successful than the original. 

The Magnificent Seven was photographed by cinematographer, Charles Lang on 35 mm Eastman Color Panavision in 2.39:1 scope. Shout! Factory’s 4K release is cribbing from a pre-existing 4K scan off the original camera negative that has only been previously made available in 1080p. But Shout! touts this as an all-new digital restoration, color graded for high dynamic range in both Dolby Vision and HDR10. The results predictably advance where they ought, still owing to the limitations of the optically-printed titles and transitions, and residual softness around the edges of the frame, indigenous to the anamorphic process. Otherwise, the image here is uncannily crisp. Detail in faces, hair, clothing and background are breathtakingly realized. Black levels are in check. Age-related artifacts are non-existent. Contrast is superb. And a light smattering of film grain lends the image exquisite texture and depth. Really good stuff here!

There are 3 audio tracks, 2.0 mono (as released theatrically), 2.0 Stereo and 5.1 DTS. Curiously, it is the mono mix that is preferred, with a more robust sonic resonance and intricately blended Foley of dialogue, score and effects.  Shout! also includes a Blu-ray copy of the movie. Both the 4K and Blu-ray contain commentary tracks recorded eons ago, with contributions from James Coburn, Eli Wallach, Walter Mirisch, and Robert Relyea (from 2001), plus a separate commentary featuring historian, Sir Christopher Frayling (from 2006). Each is worthy of your time. The Blu-ray copy also includes the nearly hour-long documentary, Guns for Hire: The Making of The Magnificent Seven, a featurette on Elmer Bernstein’s contributions, almost a half-hour with Frayling reflecting on the movie, and an extended stills gallery and trailers. All of these extras hail from the MGM DVD release of 2006. Bottom line: The Magnificent Seven is a western saga par excellence. Few westerns of any vintage can hold a candle near its perfection. The 4K advances over the Blu-ray and is the preferred edition to experience this extraordinary classic. Very highly recommended!

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

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

3