Appaloosa is a really interesting, really engaging western, a part redemptive text; part love story; part homo-erotic tale, about two men whom come together after a one-time brash bout of masculinity and party up to take on the world, and part causality driven chase flick. The film, directed by one of its stars in Ed Harris, focuses on the two leads and their relationship which very gradually comes apart in a mature and methodical manner, an event of which happens out of the involvement with a woman in a town from which the film garners its title. Appaloosa is a wondrous snapshot of the lives and times of various people becoming unstuck in relation to their old ways, as well as the usual manners in which attitudes towards life are embedded; a fascinating character study with rich attention to supporting acts whom come to affect the protagonists. It is quite the absorbing western.
The piece is narrated to us from the future by a certain wondering gun slinger named Everett Hitch, played by Viggo Mortensen. His tones are dry and hushed, even rueful. He speaks of his friend Virgil Cole (Harris), another free spirited gentleman whom he aided in dealing with a bar room brawl some years ago and has since been travelling with ever since; flitting from place to place and helping out where necessary. Their journeying is accompanied by long shots of dry scenery as well as expansive hills and mountains; the current state of play established, the order of their lives and what exactly their lives entail got across, and this is all before they stumble across the town of Appaloosa: a locale in which these two men's lives will greatly change. Appaloosa is the sort of film that relies on its great levels of drama in a reaction or a singular expression, Hitch's gazing at both Cole and French whilst overlooking an inmate in a jail house is telling; his reaction to the news they are later to move into a house that's being constructed particularly telling. To be sure, there is action and reaction involving conflict and a stone-wall villain in Bragg but the film is effectively about what happens to Cole and Hitch in this titular town of Appaloosa; the fear of loosing more than a dear friend, a partner, to somebody else and the fear of facing the big, wide, aggressive world of the Wild West alone with heavy envy hanging over you.
The town of Appaloosa exists in a grip of terror instigated by outlaw Randall Bragg (Irons, complete with wavering accent); a rough, ready and sadistic man with an equally rough, ready and sadistic posse of men whom follow him. The lawmen running this town are shot and killed very early on, the attitude towards law enforcement effectively put across and all Hell threatens to break loose therein. Cole and Hitch arrive, the town's officials more than eager to hire them in dealing with the issue: even if it means handing over more power than is desired; with the two men wasting little time in sorting out two of Bragg's cohorts that cross them. Later on, Cole will clash with Bragg in profile as they sit opposite one another in a local café in an uneasy truce; back up for both sides also occupying the room and a real sense of conflict apparent. Running parallel to this strand is another involving Renée Zellweger's character, a recently widowed woman named Allison French whom Cole strikes up a fondness for, and it is here the trouble for Hitch really begins.
The film is first and foremost Mortensen's with what's principally at stake the threat of being alone and not at one with the man any longer, looming. The plot involving Bragg and that feud, which later comes to cover the extradition plus trek all over the dangerous rural plains of nowhere, amply supports what is a story about a man having to come to terms with change. Much is spoken about Cole's past instances with other women and the life of love he led, namely, that he has sparsely even known another woman and relationships are alien to him. We get the feeling Cole and Hitch have been doing what they do, with both persistent and routine occurrence as well as calculated efficiency, for a good while through the exact manner in which they appear to tackle the problem of Bragg and his thugs. Later, we are weary of how the two of them stumble in their speaking to one another about Allison; pauses and beats in the conversation when she's mentioned to have asked after Cole that lead to more heated discussions. Up to this point, and we assure ourselves further back in time, easy back-and-fourths as well as the falling back into the proverbial arms of one another was the norm; one scene highlighting the characteristics of aid and honour Hitch has for Cole evident in the sequence he cools a situation down following Cole's drunkard picking of a fight. Cole himself even I.D.'s Hitch as being a man whom "completes my sentences for me" and that intense affair they have with one another feels both prominent before it is threatened.
Eagle eyed viewers will notice the casting, that of which is directly comparable to Cronenberg's 2005 film A History of Violence; Appaloosa the film maybe resembling what Mortensen and Harris' characters from said film might've been like in their working together prior to their falling out if their overall morals were of polar opposites to what they are here. It's to the film's great credit we recall such an incidence just the once, feverishly resisting the temptation to hark back and long for what the viewer may perceive as a better film covering more interesting ground with corresponding casting decisions. Even sharper viewers will spot the thematic and narrative resemblances to Edward Dmytryk's 1959 film Warlock, and while this isn't as good, it more than suffices.
The piece is narrated to us from the future by a certain wondering gun slinger named Everett Hitch, played by Viggo Mortensen. His tones are dry and hushed, even rueful. He speaks of his friend Virgil Cole (Harris), another free spirited gentleman whom he aided in dealing with a bar room brawl some years ago and has since been travelling with ever since; flitting from place to place and helping out where necessary. Their journeying is accompanied by long shots of dry scenery as well as expansive hills and mountains; the current state of play established, the order of their lives and what exactly their lives entail got across, and this is all before they stumble across the town of Appaloosa: a locale in which these two men's lives will greatly change. Appaloosa is the sort of film that relies on its great levels of drama in a reaction or a singular expression, Hitch's gazing at both Cole and French whilst overlooking an inmate in a jail house is telling; his reaction to the news they are later to move into a house that's being constructed particularly telling. To be sure, there is action and reaction involving conflict and a stone-wall villain in Bragg but the film is effectively about what happens to Cole and Hitch in this titular town of Appaloosa; the fear of loosing more than a dear friend, a partner, to somebody else and the fear of facing the big, wide, aggressive world of the Wild West alone with heavy envy hanging over you.
The town of Appaloosa exists in a grip of terror instigated by outlaw Randall Bragg (Irons, complete with wavering accent); a rough, ready and sadistic man with an equally rough, ready and sadistic posse of men whom follow him. The lawmen running this town are shot and killed very early on, the attitude towards law enforcement effectively put across and all Hell threatens to break loose therein. Cole and Hitch arrive, the town's officials more than eager to hire them in dealing with the issue: even if it means handing over more power than is desired; with the two men wasting little time in sorting out two of Bragg's cohorts that cross them. Later on, Cole will clash with Bragg in profile as they sit opposite one another in a local café in an uneasy truce; back up for both sides also occupying the room and a real sense of conflict apparent. Running parallel to this strand is another involving Renée Zellweger's character, a recently widowed woman named Allison French whom Cole strikes up a fondness for, and it is here the trouble for Hitch really begins.
The film is first and foremost Mortensen's with what's principally at stake the threat of being alone and not at one with the man any longer, looming. The plot involving Bragg and that feud, which later comes to cover the extradition plus trek all over the dangerous rural plains of nowhere, amply supports what is a story about a man having to come to terms with change. Much is spoken about Cole's past instances with other women and the life of love he led, namely, that he has sparsely even known another woman and relationships are alien to him. We get the feeling Cole and Hitch have been doing what they do, with both persistent and routine occurrence as well as calculated efficiency, for a good while through the exact manner in which they appear to tackle the problem of Bragg and his thugs. Later, we are weary of how the two of them stumble in their speaking to one another about Allison; pauses and beats in the conversation when she's mentioned to have asked after Cole that lead to more heated discussions. Up to this point, and we assure ourselves further back in time, easy back-and-fourths as well as the falling back into the proverbial arms of one another was the norm; one scene highlighting the characteristics of aid and honour Hitch has for Cole evident in the sequence he cools a situation down following Cole's drunkard picking of a fight. Cole himself even I.D.'s Hitch as being a man whom "completes my sentences for me" and that intense affair they have with one another feels both prominent before it is threatened.
Eagle eyed viewers will notice the casting, that of which is directly comparable to Cronenberg's 2005 film A History of Violence; Appaloosa the film maybe resembling what Mortensen and Harris' characters from said film might've been like in their working together prior to their falling out if their overall morals were of polar opposites to what they are here. It's to the film's great credit we recall such an incidence just the once, feverishly resisting the temptation to hark back and long for what the viewer may perceive as a better film covering more interesting ground with corresponding casting decisions. Even sharper viewers will spot the thematic and narrative resemblances to Edward Dmytryk's 1959 film Warlock, and while this isn't as good, it more than suffices.