3:10 to Yuma

3:10 TO YUMA is both a fine western and a sad commentary on the current state of the western.

James Mangold has crafted a fine western with an extraordinary cast, featuring two of the finest leading men in pictures today: Christian Bale and Russell Crowe. The men sell antagonism, respect, and something approaching friendship, and I enjoyed watching the development of their relationship over the course of the film. The film itself has nearly everything one can expect from a western, including evil water barons, post- Civil War hostility, Apaches on the raid, and the impending changes brought on by rail travel. It also features some decent western stuntwork, but it's this very stuntwork that makes 3:10 TO YUMA a sad commentary on the current state of its genre. Where are the horses trained to fall and tumble? Where are the stuntmen trained to ride them? For that matter, where are the stuntmen trained to hop from horse to horse, or carry out any of the other feats we've come to expect as followers of the genre? I think that 3:10 TO YUMA tried to provide us with some of those thrills; but its genre has seemed unprofitable for so long that modern stuntmen simply aren't building the skills necessary to pull off first-class western stunts.

And that's too bad, because the western genre still has so much to offer. 3:10 TO YUMA, while a remake, stays fresh, compelling, and exciting up to the very end. Though it stumbles with a leaden confession late in the game, it delivers fine western action and he-man pathos throughout. It's more TOMBSTONE than OPEN RANGE, and that's ok. Here's a movie that just wants to entertain us, and it succeeds.

{hesitates ... hesitates ... aw, to heck with it}

Catch this movie.

Ghost Rider

I never read the “Ghost Rider” comic when I was a kid. The idea of a flaming skeleton on a motorcycle struck me as silly and, even though I knew all the words to “Ghost Riders in the Sky,” nothing about the comic captured my imagination. That lack of predisposition, coupled with its generally poor critical reception, ensured that GHOST RIDER would never find a place on my Netflix queue. When a co-worker of mine put the DVD in my hand and told me she was sure I’d like it, a nodded and smiled and figured this would be 1.5 hours of service to the ideal of office harmony.

Imagine my surprise when GHOST RIDER turned out to be a hell of a lot of fun. In fact, there are very few things in this movie not to like, from the Nicolas Cage’s over-the-top performance as the titular Ghost Rider to Eva Mendez’s Wonderbra’s up-top performance to Sam Elliott’s incredibly realistic and believable performance as Sam Elliott and His Amazing Moustache. The set design and art direction are fantastic, creating a detailed fantasy Southwest that’s full of mythology, foreboding, and flaming devil-bikes. The villains are pleasantly silly, the story soaked in Gothic Latino Catholic mythology, and the whole adventure just a great time at the movies.

Nicolas Cage has so much fun with this role, I’m surprised they paid him to do it. When you need an actor to convey insanity, delight, and fear (but mostly insanity), Cage is your man. When he first catches fire and becomes the Ghost Rider, he works that Crazy Cage look and laugh so effectively that he brought a big, goofy smile to my face. In fact, Cage makes this movie. He’s so much fun that when the Ghost Rider takes over and the movie switches to an animation-fest for its big battles, I actually felt let down. ‘Enough of the flaming skull,’ I thought. ‘Let’s get back to the crazy eyes!’

Eva Mendez, as the love interest, has very little to do here other than wear a half-unbuttoned blouse and get imperiled; but she’s very good at wearing a half-unbuttoned blouse. Sam Elliott, whose shirt remains fully buttoned throughout, does a fine Sam Elliott, and his presence lends authenticity and a sense of the mythic Southwest to the film. Let’s face it: nobody mounts a horse like Sam Elliott, and when he and Cage team up to race across the desert in pursuit of evil (to the tones of a pumped-up version of the Johnny Cash classic), you can’t not dig the groove.

Certainly, GHOST RIDER has its flaws. Donal Logue isn't given enough to do. The villains, from Mephistopheles on down, just aren’t that menacing – the Big Boss, named Blackheart (Wes Bentley), reminded me more of Spider-Manero than an emissary from my darkest nightmares. The action set-pieces are kind of dull (unless you’re really into video game cut-scenes), and whole thing feels like product. Nevertheless, GHOST RIDER is fun product, from the Leone-like standoffs to the loopy dialogue to the brazenly ignored gaps in logic. This is a movie that just wants to show you a nutty good time, and it succeeds.

Who’da thunk it.