Well, I just watched the second film of my vacation. Once again using the wonderful technology of DVD, I watched the criminally underrated The Long Riders, a Western from 1980 that retells the familiar story of the James/Younger gang. It was directed by Walter Hill, a brilliant director who, for some reason, has never had an exactly brilliant career. Hill makes genre pictures -- mostly action -- that feature deceptively simple plots and male-dominated casts; actors who, at first, seems to be playing typical action archetypes but, as the film progresses, slowly and subtly are revealed to be a neurotic, vulnerable mess. A typical Walter Hill hero no longer looks like a hero by the end of the film which is probably why Hill has never built up the type of following that the makers and stars of less exciting films have developed. Admittedly, Hill's career has been spotty. On the whole, any Walter Hill film featuring a box office star is bound to be disappointing -- Last Man Standing, starring Bruce Willis, being a prime example. For whatever reason, a movie star simply does not make the same type of existential warrior that a character actor does. Luckily, The Long Riders is filled with character actors.

In fact, the film's cast is what most people know about the film, if they know anything. The James/Younger gang robbed banks in the years after the Civil War and their bond came not from crime but from the fact that they were family -- Jesse and Frank James and their cousins, the Youngers. In the film, all of the various brothers are played by actual brothers. Stacy and James Keach are Frank and Jesse James, David, Keith, and Robert Carradine are the Youngers, and two other gang members (Clell and Ed Miller) are played by Randy and Dennis Quaid. As gimmicky as this sounds, it actually works on film and it doesn't hurt that all of these siblings happen to be excellent actors who effortlessly create a brilliant ensemble. Indeed, one of the unexpected pleasures of the film is the chance to see Randy Quaid and Robert Carradine -- two talented and versatile actors who have recently become trapped by stereotypical comedic roles -- give full-blooded, naturalistic performances. (Quaid is surprisingly intimidating if you only know him as Cousin Eddie from the Vacation movies.)

Along with the cast, The Long Riders features what -- along with Heat -- must be one of the greatest bank robbery sequences ever to appear in celluloid. This is a recreation of the climatic (and unsuccessful) attempt to rob the Northfield National Bank in Minnesota and, as the gang desperately rides their horses in circles in a vain attempt to escape the ambush that has been waiting for them, it is impossible not to feel that same combination of fear, dread, and exhilaration that probably fueled men like Jesse James in the first place. One should be warned, this is a remarkably violent film and this is real violence -- i.e., when somebody dies, nobody has the time or the wit necessary to come up with a one-liner to commemorate the occasion. When people get hurt in this film (and other Hill films), they don't shrug it off once the scene ends. While, on occasion, Hill's habit of filming every bullet wound in slow motion may seem like a rather obvious homage (or rip-off) from Sam Peckinpah, Hill creates a sense of empathy for his quirky, not-always sympathetic protagonists that Peckinpah rarely bothered with.

In the end, all of this makes The Long Riders one of the best films to ever be forgotten. I'm glad I took the time to remember it.  ¶ 4:23 PM