Unforgiven

Unforgiven (1992) stands as a seminal work in the Western genre. Easily the high point of the '90s Western boom, it's also Clint Eastwood's finest directoral effort.



Delilah (Anna Levine), a prostitute in Big Whiskey, Montana, is mutilated by a pair of cowboys (Rob Campbell and Anthony James) who go unpunished by Sheriff Little Big Daggett (Gene Hackman). Her colleagues, led by Strawberry Alice (France Fisher), raise money to avenge Delilah. Notorious (but retired) gunslinger Will Muny (Clint Eastwood) is coaxed by cocky bounty hunter The Schofield Kid (Jaimz Woolvett) to collect the bounty. Will and partner Ned Logan (Morgan Freeman) think their violent days are past, but their mission and several run-ins with Little Bill causes the old, murderous Will to resurface.



The aged gunslinger who can't escape his past is one of the Western's oldest tropes. Henry King's The Gunfighter (1950) probably remains the best, with Gregory Peck's attempts at retirement sabotaged by fame-seeking "squirts." Variants have cropped up in Shane, Man of the West, The Shootist and Sam Peckinpah's Westerns, and Eastwood touched on theme himself in The Outlaw Josey Wales. What Unforgiven lacks in originality, however, it more than makes up for in craftsmanship.



Unforgiven is perhaps the ultimate revisionist Western. Eastwood and writer David Webb Peoples deconstruct every Western convention imaginable, with its sadistic Sheriff, bloodthirsty whores and protagonists who can't shoot straight. The violence is blunt and personal: a grisly whipping, Little Bill's savage beatings, a gutshot cowboy's slow, painful demise. A subplot with flamboyant gunslinger English Bob (Richard Harris) and a hack novelist (Saul Rubinek) allows Eastwood to explore (and explode) the gunfighter myth: Unforgiven's desperados are either bigmouth braggarts, haunted killers or outright psychopaths.



Unforgiven is an unusually character-rich Western, a genre that typically deals in archetypes. "Cured" by his deceased wife, Will tries to divorce himself from his younger days ("I ain't like that no more!"). But when he starts swilling whiskey and violently squinting, it's only a matter of time until the bullets start flying. Little Bill is a superb villain: a charming paterfamilias building himself a crooked house, he turns into a sadistic bully at the sight of an "assassin," a savage rebuke to the "law and order" mentality of oaters like Tombstone. The loudmouthed Schofield's character arc is predictable, but the guilt-ridden Ned, theatrical English Bob and hateful Strawberry Alice all make vivid impressions.



Revisionist Westerns that focus solely on "printing the fact" usually misfire (The Culpepper Cattle Company) but Unforgiven gets almost everything right. Eastwood cannily pitches the film at two levels, appealing both to the Cahiers crowd and the Clint fan. The anti-violence themes and Western deconstruction inspire reflection, but the well-crafted story and well-drawn characters make it more conventionally enjoyable. Some critics feel the finale, with Clint reverting to Man With No Name mode, undercuts the pacifist message, but a Shootist-style ending wouldn't pay off as well dramatically.



Clint Eastwood is one of Hollywood's most self-reflective film makers. While he made his name playing macho action heroes like the Man With No Name and Harry Callahan, he's used his directoral efforts to deconstruct these heroes. In High Plains Drifter, the squinty-eyed drifter became a sadistic rapist; in The Outlaw Josey Wales, his vengeful protagonist is drawn into settling down with a surrogate family. Unforgiven marked his transition from action director to auteur, his post-'92 output a glut of "serious" films that are critically acclaimed but mixed in quality.



On both sides of the camera, Eastwood has never been better. The film is incredibly beautiful, with Jack N. Green's photography of Canadian locations an appropriately autumnal feel, and despite several long digressions the story flows smoothly. (Eastwood also contributed Claudia's Theme, a simple but poignant guitar piece that forms that backbone of Lennie Niehaus's score.) His acting is even more impressive: usually a ruggedly impassive screen presence, Clint puts real emotion and anguish into Will Muny, making him more credible and sympathetic than all of his previous protagonists.



Gene Hackman makes an appallingly fascinating villain, capturing both Little Bill's charm and repugnance. Morgan Freeman has never been better, and Richard Harris's (Major Dundee) exuberant character almost steals the show. Ferocious Frances Fisher and meek Saul Rubinek (Nixon) give career-best turns. Only Jaimz Woolvett's callow greenhorn strikes a false note.



Unforgiven probably remains the best Western since the genre's heyday in the late '60s/early '70s. Certainly it's Clint Eastwood's finest hour as a director. And unquestionably, it's one of those relatively rare films that seemlessly combines entertainment and artistry.