El Dorado > Rio Bravo

The late Dean Martin is on the left, in his natural habitat

 

I'm no movie critic, and no doubt shouldn't be, either, because a) I'd rather read a book anyway, and b) this entry goes against the opinion of pretty much every critic I've seen from the late Roger Ebert on down. But maybe I'm not the only one who feels this way. So I'll go ahead and make my case.

It's almost entirely based on casting.

Variations on a Theme

Howard Hawks made Rio Bravo back in 1959, with the basic story being that a sheriff's deputy got lost to drink, and a villainous character took advantage. When the sheriff and friends got one of the villain's close associates jailed, they promptly got besieged there.

That's the basic plot to Rio Bravo, and then to Hawks' return to the same basic story structure, El Dorado (1966), and then Hawks' last movie, Rio Lobo (1970). You can look those up pretty much anywhere, and you'll find that practically everyone puts them in same order as far as quality. Rio Bravo first, Rio Lobo last.

I don't, however. I put El Dorado first, then Rio Lobo, and finally Rio Bravo. Again, it's the casting. But to keep from going on too long when no one's going to agree with me anyway, I'll only focus on the first two.

Casting I

Look at the casts:

Rio Bravo	Role	El Dorado
John Wayne	Sheriff	Robert Mitchum
Dean Martin	Sheriff's deputy/friend	John Wayne
Ricky Nelson	Young helper	James Caan
Walter Brennan	Quirky helper	Arthur Hunnicutt
Angie Dickinson	Love interest(s)	Charlene Holt/Michele Carey
John Russell	Villain	Christopher George
Claude Akins	Imprisoned villain	Ed Asner
John Russell	Villain	Christopher George

Now, if you want go give Walter Brennan the edge over Hunnicutt, I won't argue. And I'll give you Angie Dickinson ahead of the two actresses in El Dorado, even though I find Dickinson's character vastly irritating, the way she's written.

But good as Claude Akins was in Rio Bravo, Ed Asner is better in El Dorado. And Christopher George gives his villain much more of an edge than John Russell does in Rio Bravo.

Casting II

Here's where, for me, there's no question. My suspension of disbelief does not extend to Dean Martin as a deputy, or Ricky Nelson as a deadly gunfighter. Maybe if I'd seen these movies when they were new, rather than in the 1970s or later, I'd feel differently.

But whenever I see Dean Martin, if he's not in a tux, holding a martini, and looking tipsy, I can't help but supply those things in my head. I saw his TV show in the 70s, along with various specials and such, and that's how he was, all the time. All. The. Time. I can't see him any other way. Dean. Tux. Martini. I mean, That's Amore, isn't it?

As for Ricky Nelson, he does his best, and he's certainly not bad. But he comes across to me as a kid acting tough, as opposed to James Caan, who absolutely was tough. Wikipedia says that growing up, he "often participated in street fights. At that time, he enjoyed boxing, rodeo and motorcycle riding."

Besides, Caan's character isn't written as any kind of gunhand. He's more a tough kid who's a bit naive, and whose role, in fact, includes comic relief.

So I'll take El Dorado first any day. (And Rio Lobo works for me better than Rio Bravo for similar reasons.)

Final Point

El Dorado has Caan's character reciting most of an excellent poem by Edgar Allan Poe over the course of the movie:

Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.

But he grew old—
This knight so bold—
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.

And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow—
"Shadow," said he,
"Where can it be—
This land of Eldorado?"

"Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied—
"If you seek for Eldorado!"

It doesn't get any better than that.

Current Events Intruding into Stories

Pardon me while I once again address politics.  Not that they're the focus of this entry…or maybe they are.

If you've been awake, you've noticed that the Constitution keeps getting trampled on, laws broken, arbitrary edicts issued.  Meanwhile I'm trying to keep my focus on writing stories.  Only I worry about the settings.

Can a benevolent government feel plausible to readers?  Will they be able to suspend sufficient belief?  Or will they shake their heads the same as they would if you had people saying "Prithee" and "Yes m'lud" without any explanation?

Or let me put it this way.  As much as I love winter, and find bleak expanses of snow good backdrops for the stories I want to tell, I worry that those backdrops are making my novels dated.  With global warming, how believable will readers a decade from now find winter scenes?  (That assumes, of course, that anyone is reading anything ten years from now.)

So stories with responsible governments, in places where propaganda isn't rife, where voters are informed and don't cast ballots without educating themselves, how plausible are those?

Because whether a writer addresses politics directly or not, all story choices are political.  Do the female characters always get the last word?  A strong female character is a political choice.  Are the men's decisions always right?  That's political too.  So is inclusion or omission of trans people or non-white ones.  Likewise relationships that aren't exclusively heterosexual.  Not to mention bigger issues, like what kind of relationship is healthy, which kinds of decisions are moral.

So my apologies if my latest works aren't as escapist as you would like them to be—or I would either.  But as I said, story choices have political elements to them.

So, to that extent, there is no escape. 

More and More I Fear

More and more I fear
There's no point to being here
That as time goes by and by
I'll only live then die

That from nothing I once came
And will return just the same
Ashes and ashes and dust
Iron-strong, and then rust

Nothing ahead to expect
Nothing that I can detect
Deeds, and feeling proud
Whispers that were once loud

This isn't a cry of despair
I'm really just clearing the air
A harp and a cloud I can't see
Doesn't mean they're not waiting for me

Which is itself a kind of relief
Whether my time's long or brief
A future thin or fatter
Still ends, and doesn't matter