Unforgiven (Mike's Take!)

Unforgiven

Written by David Webb Peoples

1992’s Best Picture winner is in the running and, while not the only good movie we’ve seen, it’s certainly the one that’s endured the most of this batch. People love Unforgiven. It’s in the National Film Registry. The American Film Institute named it one of the best Western films ever made. So this movie has some accolade baggage going into it. Somehow I missed this movie for years, which is weird since I like Clint Eastwood, cowboy movies, and Clint Eastwood cowboy movies. So does it live up to all that hype?

There are two answers: as a movie, absolutely. Atmospheric, grimy in the best way, some of the best acting of Clint’s career (helped in no small part by ringers like Morgan Freeman and a possibly never better Gene Hackman), this movie has it all. As a script, though, it’s “only” mostly successful. I will explain, of course, but let me sing my praises first.

Four movies in a row, and my time is still not being wasted at all. I love this category! The assault on the poor girl Delilah that leaves her scarred is the very first thing that happens. Then we immediately see what a hold Little Bill has on this town, and how disproportionate his punishments are. The girls are pissed off immediately and call for desperate action: putting a hit on the two men who cut up their friend. Then Bill Munny and the Schofield Kid are brought in to answer that call.

I don’t typically think of many Westerns as being “well-written.” They’re almost all economical by design, relying more on atmosphere than elegant prose, but there’s also a craft to bluntness as this movie illustrates perfectly. Munny is a man of few words, as Clint’s characters usually are, but those words carry heft. “I don’t kill anyone without my partner.” No explanation needed, because he’s not a man who trades in them. The only one in his crew who talks a lot is the Kid, and we find out soon enough that it’s all posturing.

The rest of the ensemble talks a lot, and I think it’s for the same purpose. English Bob talks himself up all over the place, only to prove that he’s no match for Little Bill Daggett. Daggett also talks constantly, as if reminding everyone that he’s the guy in charge.

Speaking of, I love that scene of the other guys in the Sherriff’s Department talking about Daggett, about how “he ain’t no carpenter,” right before he kicks the crap out of English Bob.

While I’m on English Bob, it’s interesting (and at least a teensy bit frustrating) that he has such a fun intro, and is quickly built up as this ultimate assassin who’s so cool he has his own biographer following him around, and he’s dispatched of so quickly. It would seem that the whole point of Bob was to build up what a hardass Daggett is. Like to show us, for the first time, that this is the guy Munny and the gang are up against? Oh no! And I get that, and it does make Daggett out to be this insurmountable obstacle, but Bob was so delightful I still wanted him to do more.

The script also beats me over the head with “I ain’t like that no more.” I get it, Munny hasn’t killed in years, he hasn’t had a drink in years, he’s a respectable man now. He says it like a million times, and he’s only taking this job because he needs the money (hey, like his name!). It all comes together, in two ways. First, I was never not amused when he struggled to get up on his horse. I laughed every time. Second, is what I call the “you done fucked up” moment, and it’s always an effective moment even if you can see it coming from a mile away.

Munny and the Kid have killed the second man. They want their reward money and they want to go home. The Kid has even had an epiphany and will never kill again. Then Munny gets the news. Little Bill Daggett killed Ned. Munny squints his eyes, takes his first drink in years, sends the Kid home, and you just know that Daggett is about to get shot all kinds of dead. You can see it coming, but it’s oh so satisfying. Really, Daggett seals his fate in the movie’s first moments, by refusing to serve justice when it doesn’t suit his interests, but the whole movie builds him up as someone you want to see D-E-D dead, and there’s something to be said for a movie that gives you exactly what you want.

The killer with a heart of gold is a trope as old as Westerns themselves, but movies don’t need to constantly reinvent the wheel. Unforgiven is a great example of putting old clichés to good use. I was genuinely touched by Munny’s scene with Delilah, the assaulted girl. It was quiet and sweet and said a lot about both characters, and the situation they find themselves in. That really sums up the best parts about this movie for me.

And I’ll finish up this one by pointing out that “Strawberry Alice” is the best possible old-timey hooker name. If David Webb Peoples has one true triumph to take away from Unforgiven, it’s that.