Seven Men from Now

Budd Boetticher and Randolph Scott collaborated on their first Western in 1956. Film historians consider it part of the Ranown Cycle, even though John Wayne’s Batjac Studios produced the film. Classification aside, Seven Men from Now remains Boetticher’s finest work, and a highpoint for the Western genre generally.

Ex-lawman Ben Stride (Randolph Scott) tracks seven outlaws who killed his wife in a hold-up. During his question Stride joins up with Julie (Gail Russell) and John Greer (Walter Reed), two pioneers headed for California. Stride warms up to Julie, who nonetheless remains loyal to her milquetoast husband. Things grow more complicated when part-time crook Masters (Lee Marvin) joins with the gang. Masters may have been involved in Mrs. Stride’s death; Julie learns John might not be innocent, either.

Groggy risks sounding like a broken record but it’s true: these films’ greatest virtue is simplicity. Using California’s Alabama Hills, a small but perfect cast and Burt Kennedy’s terse screenwriting, Boetticher marshals impressive shows with modest budgets. What could be a simple revenge programmer becomes transcendent. This initial entry provides the template for future Ranown Westerns, all stellar variants on a theme.

As in The Tall T, Boetticher sets the laconic Stride against the loudmouthed, weak-willed John. Here the impotent “half-man,” introduced straining at a wagon track in mud, isn’t only a coward but unwittingly complicit with the villains – though he’s at least allowed redemption. Tough, independent-minded Julie pines for the real man Stride even as she can’t betray John. Masters drives them apart through psychological gamesmanship, taunting Johnny with Julie’s affection for Stride. Yet even the snaky Masters proves noble; in the end reels, he even kills his erstwhile colleagues to ensure a fair fight.

But it’s Boetticher’s brilliant set pieces that really set Seven Men apart. His direction is consistently top-notch but he’d never quite replicate this film’s standout scenes. The movie opens with a confrontation between Stride and two drifters in a cave. It’s an incredibly tense sequence, building to an unexpected conclusion. He achieves similar effects in a face-off with hostile Indians, resolved in a satisfyingly unconventional manner. Sergio Leone once told Boetticher “I stole everything from you!”;  Seven Men’s influence on that Italian master is evident throughout, especially in the end showdown.  Masters avoids a chance at easy money, preferring instead to “earn” the loot through a formal duel.

Randolph Scott establishes the rough-hewn, leathery frontiersman he’d assay in all Boetticher’s movies. He’s even tougher than in later Ranown flicks, shrugging off gunshot wounds and blows to the head in his quest for justice. Lee Marvin shines in his first major role, making Masters a wheedling dastard with a chivalrous streak. Marvin fits this role like a glove; he’d play similar characters in The Comancheros and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance before breaking through to stardom. Gail Russell (Angel and the Badman) turns in a warm, endearing performance, while Walter Reed makes a suitably pathetic figure.

Seven Men from Now is a real gem. Like all the Ranown flicks, it’s a flawless blend of compact storytelling and impeccable direction. One could pay the film no higher complement than to say it stands head and shoulders above Boetticher’s other flicks.