THE GUNFIGHTER: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 1950) Criterion Collection

 "The addicts of Western fiction may find themselves rubbing their eyes and sitting up fast to take notice before five minutes have gone by in Twentieth Century Fox's The Gunfighter... For suddenly they will discover that they are not keeping company with the usual sort of hero of the commonplace Western at all… (but)… in the exciting presence of one of the most fascinating Western heroes as ever looked down a six-shooter's barrel."

– Bosley Crowther (New York Times)

In 1949, director, Henry King and star, Gregory Peck collaborated on Twelve O’clock High, what, in hindsight, remains one of the most daring depictions of the perils of war, not in highlighting the danger associated with combat, but the mortal jeopardy inflicted upon a man’s conscience and soul; a theme similarly explored in King and Peck’s follow-up project, The Gunfighter (1950). Here is a sober indictment on the ego-driven follies of youth come to bear upon destiny. In his prime, Jimmy Ringo (Peck) became a legend for his murderous skills with a pistol. While this legacy benefited the ego in days of yore, it now hangs like a mill stone about Ringo’s neck, defying any and all attempts to be rid of his former self. And, as the western genre’s most eloquent devotee, John Ford, would later point out, when the legend eclipses truth – “print the legend”.  Thus, Jimmy Ringo is a mythical figure in his own time, inferred to have 50 kills to his name when the number, as Ringo himself points out, is much closer to 15, and maybe, not even that.  Peck’s persona, as Hollywood’s man of integrity, naturally precedes his appearance in The Gunfighter. In such cases, when a star's presence alone could command an audience, it primes us to accept Ringo, in spite of his past, as somehow honor-bound; the unwitting victim of a widely accepted mythology only partly anchored, but more over crafted innuendoes Ringo is powerless to overwrite. Even in illustrating his precepts of self-defense and righteous kills as a stratagem in lieu of ‘the truth’, a murky gray area resists any clarification between the hapless hallowed gunman of glorified ‘ill repute’ and the reclaimed Jimmy Ringo; a dangerous man in a ‘noir-styled’ epoch of the western milieu from which, arguably, there is no place for a fair trial in the court of popular opinion, and definitely no escape into magnanimous autonomy - something Ringo now craves to replace his notorious celebrity.

Already having given us Peck as that dashing, clean-cut flyer to lose his nerve in the clouds in Twelve O’clock High, director, King now advances the actor’s profile into a new state of moral decay and ambiguity - one important step beyond, offering us Peck, weather-beaten, careworn and desperate in his never-to-be fulfilled desire for peace in The Gunfighter. Peck’s debut here is very un-star-like, sporting a scruffy mustache in dusty dungarees, seemingly ill-fitting to conceal a slight paunch. Here is a snapshot of the gunslinger, not as edgy professional killer at the top of his game, but slightly gone to seed, or rather, entirely bored with that reputation he worked so hard to craft, and seeking redemption for his sins. Ringo’s had his fun. Now, he just wants a quiet life. Alas, some reputations are built to last. And thus, in only the first few moments of The Gunfighter, Peck’s world-weary and solitary man of action is forced to defend his status as a tarnished assassin by gunning down flashy upstart, Eddie (Richard Jaeckel), just naïve enough not to know when to leave well enough alone. Rather expertly, King denies us the actual moment of Ringo’s renown prowess with a gun, instead resting on Jaekel’s cocky ‘squirt’ as he draws his pistol, only to meet a predictable fate. Ringo then calls out to the remaining constituents in the saloon to bear witness to his deed as an act of self-defense. The reluctant witnesses attest to as much. Yet, do they out of loyalty or fear?

Clearly, Ringo has derived no satisfaction from the kill. He has bigger fish to fry; chiefly, a reconciliation with Peggy Walsh (Helen Westcott), the woman his younger, more braggadocios self, walked away from eight years before, leaving her with child.  The boy (Donald Duran) is now just old enough to begin formulating his own opinions about this man who ought to have been his father. And yet, the boy’s loyalties are entirely with this man he barely knows, yet instinctively has admired from afar. And there is something tender, even gentle-hearted about the way father and son gravitated toward one another in The Gunfighter, in spite of Peggy’s protective maternal instinct to keep them apart. Incapable of entirely forgiving Ringo in life, Peggy martyrs the last vestiges of her acrimony – always code for an insular protection against heartbreak – only after the man has been laid to rest. The Gunfighter is, actually, very much a social critique on the fractured American family; its patriarch, denied his rights as husband and father, first, by self-inflicted callousness to reassert for himself he is still vital, free, and, a man (a sex of varying definitions), prematurely snuffed out by ill-blown winds of fate and revenge that arguably, his former self justly deserved, at least under Hollywood’s code of censorship and morality, in order to reconcile a bloody past and thus, truly liberate Ringo’s soul for all eternity.

Initially, John Bowers and André De Toth conceived of the story for John Wayne over at Columbia Pictures.  And although Wayne loved it, his asking price of $10,000 paled to 2oth Century-Fox’s offer of $70,000. Worse, ill will between Wayne and Columbia boss, Harry Cohn seemed to preclude Wayne’s involvement. So, after some consternation, Cohn sold the property to Fox, only to have the studio re-cast the picture with Gregory Peck. When Peck won the Reno Chamber of Commerce award as ‘top western star’ of the year, Wayne’s animosity towards Bowers could not be contained. And indeed, in considering Wayne’s final movie, The Shootist (1976), the plot bears an uncanny resemblance to The Gunfighter. While Fox’s mogul, Darryl F. Zanuck clearly saw the potential in this movie, he openly despised King’s decision to have his star sport an authentic mustache. King stood his ground and the bristle of hair beneath Peck’s nostrils was left intact. King, who had begun his career as an actor in repertoire theater, perhaps intuitively understood the strength of character to be derived from that bit of prop-sized legitimacy to period. King appeared to effortlessly segue into the director’s chair, becoming one of Fox’s most commercially viable directors throughout the 1940’s and 50’s. His list of accomplishments is varied and impressive. But his style – unobtrusive and prone to longer takes, allowing actors to navigate their way through a heightened sense of realism via continuity in their performances – has often been misconstrued for mere workhorse competency, rather than possessing any unique sense of style.  When King died at his home, in his sleep from a heart attack, age 96 in 1982, he was AMPAS’s longest-surviving, founding member with more than 100 screen credits to his name. And although Oscar eluded King, he did receive the George Eastman Award in 1955 for his distinguished contributions to the art of film.

Superficially, The Gunfighter is based on the life of an actual gunslinger named John Ringo. The real Ringo, a member of the Clanton gang, was, in fact, ruthless, and a survivor of Wyatt Earp’s ‘ride’ to avenge his fallen brothers after the now infamous confrontation at the O.K. Corral. The real Ringo’s suicide, after an alcoholic binge is, of course never referenced here as The Gunfighter is not a tale of a man beside himself, stricken in self-pity, but a man determined to rectify the mistakes of his past in order to ensure his young son does not follow in his footsteps.  Our story begins in the desolate plains, a nondescript and decidedly barren landscape from which there emerges a shadow of a man on horseback, riding into town. This stoic figure is Jimmy Ringo, making a pitstop at an outpost on route to the little town of Cayenne. His reputation, alas, precedes him as Eddie, a cocky cowboy tosses off provocative comments at the bar, designed to provoke Ringo into proving he is still the fastest draw in the West. Ringo, weather-beaten and tired, gives the upstart every opportunity to retract his statements and let bygones be bygones. Alas, Eddie is relentless and thus, receives his comeuppance at the point of Ringo’s pistol. Gathering the popular opinion of other patrons to prove his claim of self-defense, Ringo withdraws. Regrettably, Eddie has three brothers (Alan Hale Jr., Dave Clarke, John Pickard) who catch up to Ringo near the mountain pass, determined to avenge their brother’s murder. No fool, Ringo ambushes this vengeful triumvirate, ordering them from their mounts and setting their horses loose. They will have to walk back home in shame.

Meanwhile, Ringo proceeds to Cayenne. Indeed, he has ulterior motives for this journey. In Cayenne, Ringo again enters the local saloon, overseen by nervous bartender, Mac (Karl Malden). Ordering a steak and eggs along with his drink, Ringo retired out back to freshen up, affording Mac the opportunity to send for the Marshal. Miraculously, Marshal Mark Strett (the fabulous, Millard Mitchell) and Ringo are old friends. Indeed, Mark used to be a gunfighter too. But years ago, Mark reverted to the side of truth and justice. Ringo, alas, chose a life of adventure and chaos to earn him his notorious reputation. Now, these old friends reconcile, although Mark encourages Ringo to get out of town at the earliest, and without seeing Peggy or his son. Mark forewarns, the longer Ringo delays, the more probable he will garner cause to use his gun again. And indeed, not long thereafter, Ringo encounters opposition from Hunt Bromley (Skip Homeier), a young gunslinger eager to make his bones in his chosen profession. Ringo also incurs the wrath of Jerry Marlowe (Cliff Clark) who erroneously believes he murdered his son.

Molly (Jean Parker), a saloon gal and old friend, eventually persuades Peggy to meet with her estranged husband. And although understandably apprehensive, Peggy is as startled to learn the sword of Damocles no longer dangles over Ringo’s head. He intends to retire and settle in California, the last possible bastion where his past remains unknown. Ringo implores Peggy to join him. And although she refuses, her heart is obviously drawn to this man whom she still loves dearly. As such, Peggy agrees to reconsider Ringo’s proposition in a year’s time, but only if he makes good on establishing a more stable home life. Peggy allows Ringo to meet his son, although he does not reveal to the boy that he is, in fact, his father. Regrettably, Ringo has lingered too long in Cayenne. Eddie’s brothers have arrived, seeking their revenge. Aware of this brewing conflict, Mark and his deputies round up the brothers as they prepare to intercept and murder Ringo. Much obliged to Mark for his kindness, Ringo bids farewell to Peggy and his son. Alas, as he departs on horseback, a devious Bromley, mortally shoots Ringo in the back. As Ringo lies dying, he implores Mark to concoct a story – that he drew first on Bromley, so Bromley shot him in self-defense. Bromley protests. But Ringo quietly explains to his killer he will soon realize, as Ringo has, that infamy as a gunfighter is a curse.  After Ringo expires, Mark orders Bromley out of town, punctuating his demand with a beating - just the beginning of what Mark sincerely promises Bromley has in store. In death, Ringo’s sins are forgiven by his wife. At his funeral, Peggy proudly reveals to all for the first time, she is Mrs. Jimmy Ringo. As the congregation part to allow her to properly mourn at his funeral, we see a silhouetted, unrecognizable, solitary cowboy ride off into the sunset.

The Gunfighter is a revisionist’s take on the solitary man of the West. Peck’s ‘bad boy’ is a legend past its prime, Ringo’s honor in youth, distorted, wayward and misspent, now, surrendered to the sager wisdom of middle-age. Regrettably, some epiphanies come too late in life’s journey to be fully appreciated. And Ringo, with his reputation grotesquely blown out of proportion by people who never actually met him, has paid the supreme price for his former deeds. For Peck, The Gunfighter marked a decided turn in the types of characters he would continue to play on the screen from this picture forward, increasingly, more introspective and complex. And the picture also matures audience’s expectations for ‘the Hollywood western’ beyond its mere ‘cowboys and Indians’ milieu. Interesting to consider that apart from its obvious ‘western’ trappings, The Gunfighter is a probing drama that could have been set during any period in history and still worked. Millard Mitchell is absolutely magnificent as the sole Ringo loyalist who sets aside friendship as a man of the law, wholly determined to uphold peace and order in his small hamlet, yet strangely empathizes with Ringo’s present-day predicament.

Mitchell’s performance in The Gunfighter is perhaps his finest. In a career, brief but memorable, the Cuban-born Mitchell appeared as a bit player in 8 unremarkable movies between 1931 and 1936 before indulging a 6-year hiatus from the picture-making biz.  When he returned in 1942, he honed his skills as a highly successful supporting player, winning a Golden Globe as Best Supporting Actor for 1952’s My Six Convicts. Millard ought to be recalled today for his 3 outstanding performances in, this movie, the aforementioned Twelve O’clock High (1949) and, doing a wonderfully comic turn as fictional movie mogul, R.F. Simpson in Singin' in the Rain (1952). Tragically, Mitchell died of lung cancer the following year, age 50, depriving us all of his enigmatic personality – an exceptionally gifted character actor.  In retrospect, the decline of another of The Gunfighter’s co-stars, Richard Jaeckel, was steadier, if no less tragic. A veteran of film and TV, Jaekel was diagnosed with cancer in 1996, even as his wife became afflicted with Alzheimer’s Disease. Owing to his dwindling net worth from lack of recent work and mounting medical expenses, the couple lost their Brentwood home to crippling debt, leaving the one-time star basically homeless. At this juncture, Gregory Peck lobbied for Jaeckel’s admittance into the Motion Picture and Television Hospital where he would remain until his death one year later.

Viewed today, The Gunfighter remains as startlingly original and engaging as the hour of its theatrical debut – proof positive, King’s vision for the movie possessed a greater foresight than perhaps even studio chief, Darryl F. Zanuck gave it credit in 1950.  It was, after all, Zanuck who rewrote the ending of the picture, originally planned with Hunt Bromley’s arrest for murder. Zanuck preferred the more somber and ambiguous conclusion, infused with the cruel, slow, but steady hand of fate, sure to catch up to Bromley long after his beating and release, but with more far-reaching consequences, his own terrible descend into purgatory just beginning. Morality in the movies is a rarity today. In Hollywood’s heyday it was required viewing. Yet, even by those standards – oft misjudged in retrospect as having straight-jacketed creative freedom – The Gunfighter is a refreshing departure from the usual ‘crime must pay’ message. For although Peck’s presence lends Jimmy Ringo the ballast of a righteous and heroic figure, his assassination at the end reaffirms for the audience, only to know Ringo from this belated last act of contrition, that here was a man who, in youth, took a different path in life – one, in need of a reckoning to reset the natural order of things in God’s favor.  

The Gunfighter arrives on Blu-ray via Criterion – an association with Fox Home Video that continues to distribute rare Fox movies long after Zanuck’s empire is but a satellite of the Walt Disney Co. The results here are well above adequate, yet strangely below par. Most who read this blog will already note the reasons why; that, when the executive brain trust at Fox elected to free up vault space in the mid-1970’s they did so by junking original nitrate elements in favor of shoddily produced ‘preservation’ masters on even more unstable film stock, thus ensuring all future prints are at least several generations removed from their origins. Thus, The Gunfighter looks about what it should; softer than it did in 1950, with residual grain thickened, and, with a decidedly loss of fine details that ought to have been present throughout. The current custodianship of Fox catalog is thus working backwards from sincerely flawed surviving elements and the results here are admirable, given these shortcomings. The gray scale exhibits slightly darker than anticipated contrast levels. In certain scenes, contrast appears to have been lightly blown out. So, some close-ups adopt a ‘Casper-ish’ quality – base, anemic and dull. The overall quality here is ‘muddy’. But again, it’s to be expected. The 1.0 PCM audio is adequate, though just. Extras include newly recorded retrospectives from filmmaker, writer, and archivist, Gina Telaroli, a video essay on editor, Barbara McLean by historian and author, J. E. Smyth, and audio only excerpts from Henry King and McLean, recorded in 1970 and ’71 respectively. Finally, we get liner notes from critic, K. Austin Collins. Bottom line: The Gunfighter is a devastating and powerful movie with Gregory Peck offering up one of his top 3 performances in the movies (arguably, the other two, owed 1944’s The Keys of the Kingdom, and, of course, as Atticus Finch in 1962’s To Kill a Mockingbird). While the Blu-ray can only represent the film in a quality befitting the limitations of its surviving elements, what is here has been paid due diligence in the 4K remastering process to ensure no further egregious degradation has occurred in transition from film to digital media. Bottom line: very highly recommended – for content.

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

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

3.5