3:10 TO YUMA, Lions Gate, 2007.
Dir. James Mangold, Perf. Russell Crowe, Christian Bale, Ben Foster. Review by Dominic
In the opening scene of 3:10 to Yuma, down-on-his-luck rancher and civil war veteran Dan Evans (Bale) is terrorised by the goons of a wealthy landowner determined to sell his slab of desert to that voracious root of Western evil, the railroad.
Despite being a remake of the 1957 film of the same name, 3:10 quickly steers itself from the banality of this premise and gallops into form as an exciting and highly efficient actioner well worth a chunk of any Friday night. After witnessing a stagecoach robbery at the hands of notorious but charismatic outlaw Ben Wade (Crowe) and his gang, Evans aids in Wade’s capture before agreeing to help escort the volatile gunslinger to Yuma Territorial Prison for a sorely needed two hundred dollars. In hot pursuit is Wade’s gang, headed by Charlie Prince (superbly played by Ben Foster), a fearsome crew of cutthroats prepared to blast, batter and burn anyone in their path to rescue their leader.
3:10’s great strength is its effortless balance of character complexity with bottom line, bang-for-the-buck action. One example of its commitment to realizing its characters is the subtle connection drawn between Charlie Prince (Foster), the high-voiced crack-shot psycho who idolizes gangleader Wade, and Dan Evans’s son, William (Logan Lerman), who belittles his father and regards Wade with a mixture of admiration and dread. The film skilfully suggests that Prince, with his petulant weakling/brute mannerisms, was probably a similarly disenchanted son at some point in the past, thereby adding an extra measure of desperation to Evans’s fatherhood anxieties.
In the way of action, the gunplay is enlivening without being a distraction, the set-pieces thrilling without being gratuitous, and the film shot with a freshness and energy that, while not remarkable, sustains the verve of its longish narrative handsomely.
3:10’s real (although not overwhelming) weakness is its conclusion, where breakneck momentum barely rescues it from incredibility, and it begins to resonate with a kind of fancifulness and romance that seems distinctively outdated since, for one, the bleak revisionism of Eastwood’s Westerns. The film’s fast-paced narrative is invested with solid performances from all involved. Christian Bale communicates his character’s regret and idealism with ease. While the playfulness of Crowe’s performance never obscures its skill, one feels that, in conveying Wade’s serpentine fusion of charm and menace, the latter quality is left understressed.
Director James Mangold had already displayed a knack for the Western when he directed a compelling modernized counterpart, 1997’s corruption drama Copland. With 3:10 to Yuma he has succeeded with a fun, tightly managed foray into the genre proper, and Hollywood’s first Western in a while has turned out a welcome one.
In the way of action, the gunplay is enlivening without being a distraction, the set-pieces thrilling without being gratuitous, and the film shot with a freshness and energy that, while not remarkable, sustains the verve of its longish narrative handsomely.