Thrilling Days of Yesteryear

“That’s always the way, ain’t it?”

At the time I was compiling my lists for the Best and Worst Best Actress survey for Edward Copeland’s blog, I received an e-mail from an occasional TDOY reader (who asked that I keep their identity a secret on the blog…and I can’t say that I blame them) asking me to explain The Blind Squirrel Film Theory™.  In a nutshell—if you’ll pardon the pun—the theory adheres to the old maxim that “even a blind squirrel finds a nut now and then”…which I’ve applied to a way of thinking that even those actors or actresses I don’t particularly care for have done something particularly noteworthy.  For example, I mentioned that although normally Julia Roberts has the same effect on me as fingernails on a blackboard I do like her remarkable performance in the screwball comedy My Best Friend’s Wedding.  (My other bete noire, Meg Ryan, doesn’t fare so well—though I will admit she made me laugh out loud as Angelica Graynamore in Joe Versus the Volcano…particularly when she tells Tom Hanks’ character: “I have no response to that.”)

As you may have noticed, the movie doesn’t have to be particularly good for me to enjoy a performance—take, for example, Keanu Reeves in Speed (1994).  I like Speed because it doesn’t pretend to be anything other than an enjoyable popcorn flick, and it’s also (though it pains me to admit this) my favorite Reeves performance.  (Hey—at least Reeves was smart enough to stay the hell away from the sequel.)  A fellow movie buff recommended that I see Permanent Record (1988) for an example of a good turn by Reeves…and I watched this film this weekend, only to be severely disappointed.  Reeves plays the slacker best friend of a troubled teen (Alan Boyce) who decides to end it all despite having loving parents, good grades in school and excellent prospects for college.  A mean individual might suggest that the reason Boyce kills himself is that Reeves is his best friend…so I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you.  Record may not be a particularly good film (it’s a little too after school-specially for me) but it does have Michelle Meyerink in it, an actress (Real Genius) whom I’ve always had a great fondness for but who seems to have dropped out of sight after Record.

As for Nicolas Cage, nothing he’s done since Raising Arizona (1987) has made me sit up and take notice, though I did have high hopes that Bringing out the Dead (1999), Martin Scorsese’s adaptation of Joe Connelly’s novel, would dispel this notion.  I also watched this one this weekend, and the problem with Dead is that it’s a rehash of Scorsese’s Taxi Driver (1976)—a film held in high regard by the director’s fans…but I’m not one of them.  Again, there are a few nuggets among the dross—I thought Mary Beth Hurt’s small but hilarious role as a condescending nurse was worth the look-see—but when all is said and done my reaction was pretty much…eh.

But the big reward in this weekend’s movie watching was that I no longer have to argue that Charlton Heston’s Blind Squirrel moment is in Touch of Evil (1958), a film that I’m fiercely devoted to even though Chuck is as convincing a Latino as Mickey Rooney an Asian in Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961).  I unspooled Will Penny, a 1968 Western written and directed by Tom Gries, during the wee a.m. hours and was really bowled over by Heston…it’s clearly his best screen role.  Heston’s producer pal Walter Seltzer told Chuck about Gries’s script (unfinished at the time) and after reading the first twenty pages the actor knew that he had to do the film.  (He wasn’t particularly pleased to hear that Gries wanted to direct the film himself—Gries’ previous experience was mainly in television, particularly some episodes of Felony Squad—but upon learning that Gries’ participation was non-negotiable Heston relented.)

Will Penny (Heston) is a pushing-fifty cowpoke for which cowpunching is the only life he’s ever known.  After completing a round-up, he saddles up with fellow cowboys Blue (Lee Majors) and Dutchy (Anthony Zerbe) in search of more work, and the three men end up in a tussle over an elk with a demented “preacher” (Donald Pleasence) and his murderous sons (Bruce Dern, Gene Rutherford).  In the melee, Dutchy is gut-shot and his pals take him on a trek to find a doctor…but on the way, Will meets up with a woman named Catherine Allen (Joan Hackett) and her son H.G. (Jon Gries, the director’s son) who are currently on their way to Oregon to forage a life for themselves by farming.  Penny and Catherine’s paths cross again when he is hired as a “line rider” for a large cattle spread; he finds the woman and her boy “squatting” on the property, living in an abandoned cabin, and he explains to her that the both of them need to move out and move along.  But on his way back to the ranch, he’s jumped by Pleasence and his family and left to die among the elements.  Will manages to make it back to the cabin, where his wounds are tended to by Catherine and he’s nursed back to health.  During his convalescence, he finds himself falling for her…but deep down, knows that their relationship can never be.

Will Penny is one of the most realistic Westerns I’ve ever seen; during its running time I kept marveling how its accurate depiction of the hardscrabble, miserable existence endured by these individuals echoed the same sentiments expressed by writer John Meston in his fine scripts for radio’s Gunsmoke.  Heston is nothing short of magnificent in the title role; an illiterate cowboy whose rough-and-rowdy ways mask a tender longing for a life he knows he’s too old to have.  Hackett matches him step for step in one of the best female parts in any oater (the Western genre not generally known for its generosity towards actresses) as the inexperienced but determined woman who sees the good side of Will.  The movie also has an incredible supporting cast; in addition to Majors (whose screen credit reads “Introducing Lee Majors”—didn’t anybody watch The Big Valley back then?), Zerbe, Pleasence and Dern, there’s old pros like Ben Johnson, Slim Pickens, Clifton James and G.D. Spradlin.  Sadly, Penny proved to be director Gries’ shining moment—though I do enjoy his 1975 rip-snortin’ actioner Breakheart Pass, with Charles Bronson.  In Penny, Heston’s character declares: “Even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then”—so it should come as no surprise that this film is a definite keeper.

- Posted by Ivan G. Shreve, Jr. - 11:52:06 AM - comment []