Cool Hand Luke

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

The first scene of this 1967 film has Luke (Paul Newman) taking the tops off parking meters with a wrench. The devices flash the word “Violation.”  Luke is obviously drunk, and is consuming more alcohol. We have images of a person who is an outsider that does not comply with established rules. Luke is literally and figuratively the monkey wrench which disrupts the social machinery from running along smoothly. Even though the story takes place probably in the 1950’s after the Korean War, Luke reflects the 1960’s anti-hero who rebels against a corrupt society.

The police arrive and arrest Luke. The irony is the man who wants total freedom is put in the most restrictive place, prison, because of his behavior. The next scene shows men working on a convicts’ work gang, which includes the hulking Dragline (George Kennedy, who won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for this role). Drag must say he is taking off his shirt because of the heat. Free will is almost totally obliterated here as the prisoners have to announce everything they are going to do in order to get permission from the guards, even for the simplest of actions. For example, Rabbit (Marc Cavell) and Gambler (Wayne Rogers) (all of the men have nicknames) request that they wish to wipe away sweat and drink some water.

Luke arrives with other convicts. The dogs in the camp are noisy because, as one guard says, they smell “new meat,” an intimidating phrase that depicts the inmates as possibly nothing more than animals to be hunted down if they try to escape. The Captain (Strother Martin) is in command of the institution. Each of the guards is called “Boss,” which shows the dominance they have over these convicts. One of the prisoners tries to make an excuse for his crime, which is followed immediately by one of the guards hitting him with a stick. Freedom of expression is met with violent retribution. When the Captain reads Luke’s crime of destroying municipal property while under the influence, the Captain concedes they never had that kind of infraction before. Luke is even a unique individual when it comes to his breaking of the law. Luke’s sentence is two years for his victimless prank which points to the unfairness of the judicial system in the story. The Captain notes that Luke won a Silver Star, Bronze Star, and a couple of Purple Hearts in military service. Luke excelled in the combat part of an organization that has a rigid code of conduct off of the battlefield. However, he was not interested in rising in the ranks and becoming an unbending link in that fortified chain of command. The Captain says the new men must learn “the rules,” which is the opposite of what these men are used to doing. If they don’t, the Captain, almost in a deceptively congenial manner, says their time will be extended and they will be put in leg chains if they try to escape. The Captain says, “It’s all up to you,” basically pretending that they have free will, but really giving them the choice between two submissive options. He says he “can be a good guy or I can be one real mean son of a bitch.” Luke sneers, showing that he probably has seen this kind of authority figure often in his life, bringing to mind the line from one of The Who’s song, “Here’s the new boss, same as the old boss.”

Boss Carr (Clifton James) announces in rapid monotone a slew of rules including not being in the “prone” position when smoking a cigarette, not losing one’s “spoon,” or putting the wrong sheet on one’s bunk, or else the man will spend a night in the “box.” Even Dragline says within the community of convicts, there are rules. Luke laughs, and calls him “Boss,” equating him with the guards. One man says a convict doesn’t have a name until Drag gives that person one. Drag says maybe they should call Luke “No Ears,” since he doesn’t listen. Luke comments that there’s not much worth listening to except for a lot of men laying down rules and regulations, basically limiting people’s freedom. People lose everything, including their prior identity when in prison, and are reborn with new names to define them. But the guards are in prison, too, in a way, as they are confined to keep the convicts locked up. People take on names that represent their characteristics or roles in this outcast world.

Carr leaves the bright light on next to Luke’s bed, trying to make it hard to sleep because the guard zeroes in on him as being difficult since Luke smiled as Carr stated the rules. The guards bully the prisoners, and then the stronger group of cons bully the newcomers. They act like they can sell their work details to the new cons, but they don’t really have the authority to switch jobs, so they exploit the new prisoners. Here, power runs downhill. Drag even bets a cold drink that Luke won’t make it through the first day of work. When Drag goads Luke about the silliness of his crime, Luke says there wasn’t much to do in a small town, but then reveals that he was “settling an old score.” We never learn what he is upset about, but given his character, Luke probably wanted to retaliate against something that threatened his free will.

There is one guard, Boss Godfrey (Morgan Woodward), who Drag later labels as The Man with No Eyes, who wears mirror sunglasses so that his eyes can’t be seen, which makes him appear like an ominous abstraction of evil. Godfrey takes out a bullet, loads his rifle, and shoots a defenseless bird. One con asks if the guy ever talks, and Luke, commenting on the gunshot, darkly jokes, “I think he just said something” stressing the man’s deadly power over them all. At the end of the workday, Luke, exhausted and aching, is the last one trying to get in the truck. The guard kicks him in the butt to get him to board the vehicle, piling on the torment. Luke gets in a victory by showing he made it to the end of the day, and tells Drag that he owes the other man that cold drink. It’s the first of several actions by Luke that reveals his amazing endurance to withstand suffering.

Alibi (Ralph Waite) passes out in the hot field and has to be put in the truck. He is further punished when he is told his work was unsatisfactory. They put him in the “box,” which is about the size of a small closet with only a pot to deposit the man’s body waste. It was the first day at the prison camp for the man, and he is the one who thought he could buy a better job. Drag doesn’t take responsibility for playing a prank on the new guy, and says Alibi talked back to a free man (the guard) about switching details. Drag says “They got their rules and we ain’t got nothing to do with that.” Luke is sarcastic with Drag about this comment when he says how the guards need the prisoners’ help to maintain their rules, as if the correction officers aren’t the ones with the upper hand.

While the men are working, there is a sexy blonde (Joy Harmon) wearing nothing under a clingy revealing dress as she washes a car. She uses the phallic shaped nozzle of the hose suggestively, and her squeezing the soap out of her sponge symbolizes the male orgasm. Drag calls her Lucille, and another says she doesn't know what she’s doing. But, Luke doesn’t give in to the denial of reality, and says that she knows exactly what she's doing, and that she is enjoying it, commenting on the sadistic teasing of the young woman. Later in the bunks at night, Drag keeps ruminating on how sexy the girl is, and Luke again wants to stifle the fantasy world by telling him to quit, basically saying Drag was making the torture of the denial of sex worse. Drag is upset with Luke complaining about his talk, and threatens that Luke better rest up, since he will need it for the next day.

The two men have a boxing match and the much larger Drag thoroughly beats Luke who refuses to stay down, showing his abject resistance to being dominated by anyone. Those watching begin to feel sympathy for Luke at the one-sided fight, and seeing such a lopsided battle humiliates them as some walk away. Even Drag picks Luke up and carries him, telling him to stay down as he begins to be won over by Luke’s ability to withstand all that Drag can throw at him. Luke emerges as a Christ figure who sacrifices his safety as he did as a soldier. Drag says Luke is beaten, but Luke says Drag will have to kill him before he gives up. Drag walks away as Luke is still standing and takes swings at the retreating Drag.

That evening they are having a poker game, with Gambler dealing the cards. Luke keeps raising the bet, and scares the others off by bluffing. Drag smiles out of respect and says Luke beat the con with “nothing,” just the way he kept coming at Drag in the bout with nothing. Luke says, “Well, sometimes nothin’ can be a real cool hand.” So Drag labels him Cool Hand Luke, which shows how much style Luke has even when he doesn’t have anything to call his own. Luke’s words imply that there may be a way of fighting back when it looks like a person is defeated.

Arletta (Jo Van Fleet), Luke’s mother, visits her son. She is on her back, smokes and coughs, and generally appears ill. He wonders how she found him, which shows that they have been estranged. She says she wishes people were like dogs, where a mother eventually forgets about her pups, and has no expectations about her offspring. She is suggesting that she wishes she could deny her humanity, thus demonstrating she was not cut out to be a mother. She thought he “was strong enough to carry us.” Luke says that a man has to go his own way, which again stresses his desire to be emancipated from any traditional responsibility. She says that Luke’s father didn’t stick around but made her laugh. Luke says he wishes he got to know him. He probably has a great deal in common with his father, not wanting to be tied down. He adds he never had enough “elbow room” in his life, an image that shows that he feels that the world confines him. His mother agrees with him, saying that whenever he worked at thinking about getting married or being respectable, he was boring to be around. She feels that she will leave her house to his brother John because she didn’t show as much affection for him. It appears mom was won over by bad boys. Luke is okay with her decision, saying his brother earned it, implying John sacrificed his liberty to help his mother. Arletta cries as her son walks away, and Luke appears as if he knows this is the last time he will see his mother. He lectures his nephew John-Boy (John Pearce), who came with Arletta, telling the boy that making mistakes means he will have to answer to “The Man,” thus warning him of the penalties for defying society’s rules. So even though Luke couldn’t lead a law-abiding life, he doesn’t advocate his choices for others to follow. Tramp (Harry Dean Stanton) sings a gospel song in the background here, as he does in other scenes, whose religious nature contrasts with the unholy lives these men and their captors lead.

The sunglasses man, Godfrey, walks around carrying a cane, which he does not need and shows how the men are the ones doing backbreaking labor without any aids as they work tarring a road. They have to shovel dirt, and Luke, with Drag’s blessing, gets the convicts to work harder and faster as a kind of defiance to show the bosses they can’t break their spirit. The crew finishes the job with two hours of daylight left. When one of them asks what do they do now, Luke smiles and says “nothing.” Drag laughs, saying Luke wins again, just as he did with the card game, and how he didn’t give up in the boxing bout, because he is a “wild, beautiful thing. You crazy handful of nothing!” Luke shows that even when things seem hopeless one can persevere and prevail, and turn nothing into something.

Part of the agony that the incarceration system inflicts on these men is that they must close all the windows in their barracks when the rain pours, or their building will flood. The men strip down to their briefs and sweat profusely. To pass the time they devise gambling contests beyond just playing cards. Drag complains about losing a bet on a fellow prisoner, Dynamite (Buck Kartalian), who is the champ in eating contests. Luke steps up and says he can eat fifty hard-boiled eggs in an hour, without vomiting. Drag says that he’ll back Luke, but confidentially says that he should have picked a lower number. Luke states the reason for these outlandish acts when he says it will be, “something to do,” since even when they are not working, the passage of time in prison can be cruel.

Drag gets laxatives to clean out Luke’s digestive system to make room for the eggs and peels the shells off them despite the protests of those betting against Luke. These men who break the laws still crave rules, showing the social desire for contracts. Drag says when it comes to the law, “nothing is understood.” Drag’s actions point to how there are holes in any rule system that can be exploited. Luke’s belly looks like it is going to burst, but he persists, trying to defy even nature’s restrictions. Someone is in denial and says, “nobody can eat fifty eggs,” like it’s a universal fact. Luke smiles even though he is flat on his back because his anti-authoritarian personality has triumphed by defying what was thought to be an absolute dietary edict. In a way, Luke’s Christ-like persona is performing miracles as if he is defying the laws of nature. IMDb notes that after the egg eating challenge, Luke is on his back in a crucifixion position, and points out that Luke’s prisoner number. 37, refers to, appropriately, Luke 1.37 in the bible, which reads, “For with God, nothing is impossible.”

Out doing the road clearing work, a rattlesnake slithers between the men. Luke, again defying the usual way of behaving, is the one who shows no fear by picking up the snake so the sunglasses man can shoot it. He does so with ease. Luke says with a smile that the man should not forget his walking stick and hands it to the guard. He calmly compliments Godfrey on his shooting. Afterwards, Drag tells Luke he shouldn’t engage The Man with No Eyes, making the sunglasses fellow sound like some sort of demon.

It starts to storm, and everyone is told to get back in the trucks. Luke doesn’t rush, and Drag asks if he isn’t afraid of dying. Luke defies even the idea of God by yelling up at the sky saying the deity can take his life anytime he wants. “Come on,” he says, “You’re welcome to it old timer.” Luke says he’s just “standin’ in the rain, talkin’ to myself.” He doesn’t even have the religious faith which bolsters some. For someone like Luke, religions are just more ways to control a person. Luke and the prisoners are at the bottom of society’s barrel, and for Luke, valuing one’s life isn’t worth the effort. Bob Dylan’s line comes to mind which says, “When you got nothin,’ you’ve got nothin’ to lose.” If we view his action as coming from a type of Christ figure, he could be seen as questioning God the Father for subjecting his son, or for that matter all of His children, to the adversities of this world.

Drag runs all the monetary goings on in the camp, and lends out cash and collects loan paybacks. Luke is part of Drag’s inner circle now. One of the men wanting a loan flatters Luke by saying he knew Luke could eat the eggs. Luke admits that he didn’t know he could, which shows he is not all that secure in his actions. He flips a coin which allows the man to get the loan, demonstrating the precariousness of each person’s fate. Drag, describing Luke’s contradictory nature, says Luke, “Smiles like a baby, but bites like a gator.”

Luke receives a message and walks away looking dejected. Drag hands the letter to another inmate, which shows that Drag’s deprived life hasn’t even given him the opportunity to learn how to read. The note says that Luke’s mother passed away. All of the men have gained a great deal of reverence toward Luke and they give him space so he can grieve in private. Luke strums a banjo and sings the mocking song about having a “plastic Jesus,” and an icon of the Virgin Mary. Even in his sadness and loss, Luke does not revert to the comfort that requires him to relinquish his independence in order to subscribe to rigid belief systems. In the thematic sense, Luke may be questioning whether he is a worthy example of rebellious justice, and he may be referring to himself as the “plastic Jesus.”

Instead of being compassionate about losing his mother, the Captain says that her death will just make Luke want to escape to visit her before her burial. So, as a cruel preventative measure, they put Luke in the “box” to keep him off of the road. The guard who prepares Luke for his isolation says he feels bad about what he is doing, but it’s his job. Luke, scoffing at the man, says, “Calling it your job don’t make it right, Boss.” Luke won’t grant the man the comfort of using the employment excuse as a crutch to support the guard’s capitulation to the unjust rules he carries out. In this sense, Luke is not a “turn the other cheek” Christian.

They finally let Luke out once his mother is buried which supposedly means he has no incentive to now run off to see her one last time. But, Luke doesn’t play by established rules. In his white “box” robe, Luke looks like an angel walking among the prisoners. He is released to celebrate the Fourth of July, an ironic holiday to enjoy for the incarcerated since it symbolizes freedom. While they make a lot of noise in the barracks, Luke cuts a hole through the building’s floor. When the guard enters to end the revelry, Luke tries to escape under the barracks. But, he is seen trying to climb the fence, and the guards beat him. He is up on a post, and the scene suggests another crucifixion image (after all, Christ was a “criminal,” too). Luke does get over the fence while dogs try to track him. Luke is crafty, as he tries to throw them off by jumping back and forth over a fence to confuse the animals, and by not leaving tracks or scent by crossing a creek holding onto an elevated wire. He swims in a river as part of his attempt to flee. The patrol returns to the prison camp with one of the dogs having run himself to death. Luke appears to have succeeded in his escape attempt.

But, Luke is captured and brought back. And as the Captain promised, Luke is placed in leg chains. The Captain says the sound of those restraints will always remind Luke of how his freedom has been further deprived. The Captain says it’s for Luke’s own good, to which Luke sarcastically says he wishes the Captain would stop being so good to him. Enraged by Luke’s lack of submissiveness, the Captain’s sadistic nature, usually covered by phony polite speech, surfaces, and he beats Luke to the ground. The Captain then reverts to his fake civilized rhetoric, delivering the movie’s famous understated line; “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.” Only The Captain’s communication goes one way, with him dictating the rules and the prisoners listening and accepting.

In the food line while in the work field, one of the men serving the lunch says that Luke smells so badly, he could track him if he tried to run again. Luke, not broken by his ordeals, gives a snappy canine reference by saying that it should be easy for the man, since he is a “genuine son of a bitch.” After others ask how far he was able to get before being caught, he says about a mile and a half. He stole a car, but a policeman drove next to him at a traffic light and saw Luke in prison garb. Drag says that he should lay low, the “heat” will be off of him, and Luke can try to run off again. It’s as if the others are trying to vicariously keep their dreams of escaping through Luke. Luke just wraps a string around his hand, as if he is feeling the prison’s restraints tightening around him.

While on the work detail, Luke asks to urinate. But, he must keep shaking the bush he is behind to show he hasn’t run off. The Man with No Eyes takes a rifle and shoots around the bush, as if to curtail Luke’s movements. Not exactly a relaxing way to relieve oneself. Crafty Luke has tied string to a bush branch and continued to shake it as he put some distance between himself and the others. Luke has again turned a negative, the confirmation of his imprisoned presence, into a positive by creating a diversion. When the guards realize what has happened, they call for the dogs again to search for the runaway.

The leg restraints restrict Luke’s movements as he reaches a rural town. He encounters a couple of young boys who get him an axe and he breaks the chains, a literal and figurative action to illustrate his freedom. They also provide him with spicy food ingredients that Luke uses to throw off the scent of the dogs, who sneeze as the boys laugh in private. Luke’s intelligence is on display in his escapes. Later, Drag receives a magazine, which is odd since he can’t read. In it is inserted a photograph of Luke in a suit between two beautiful women, and Drag references Luke’s nickname by saying he is playing it “cool.” The others revel vicariously in Luke’s good fortune. Later, the value of hope lingers on in the picture as Drag charges a cold drink for one of the men to look at the photo to boost his morale. (IMDb provides an astute observation of foreshadowing. Opposite to where Luke’s photo is placed is a picture of a hunter firing a rifle which appears to be aimed at Luke’s chest).

But, the authorities catch up with Luke again and bring him back beaten badly to the barracks. The Captain says Luke will be wearing two sets of chains now. It’s as if the laws of physics fight Luke’s running away from being imprisoned: every action triggers an equal and opposite reaction. The other convicts offer words of comfort and encouragement to Luke who has blood on his face. He tells them that the photo with the women was a fake he had someone make. They don’t want to believe him, but he yells at them and says that if they want to escape, do it themselves, and “Stop feeding off of me.” This scene may call to mind Christ’s Agony in the Garden, where he seemed to sweat blood, and questions whether he is the vessel to save others. The word “feeding” might refer to The Last Supper, where followers will find redemption through the death of Jesus’s body. That last allusion is reinforced a little later as different men use their spoons to take rice off of Luke’s plate of food.

Out on the road, Luke can hardly work, and one of the guards whacks him with a rifle, the way Roman guards punished Christ as he carried his cross. They put Luke in the box for his lack of labor. There is now dissension in the ranks of convicts, as some say Luke will not make it. Drag, however, says the box can’t break Luke. But, another says at least he doesn’t wear chains for defying the system, suggesting it’s better not to admire Luke. Later Drag says to Luke that he made it through the week and he’ll now have some time to rest. But the bosses are there to destroy Luke’s independent spirit as an example to discourage the others from breaking the rules. They make him dig a deep ditch just to have him fill it up again to drain his strength. When they say to dig it back it up, he attacks the guard, but is hit with a blackjack. He starts digging again into the night but they order him to fill up the hole again. They hit him as he falls into the ditch, as if sending him to his grave. Luke prays to God, whom he previously disavowed, to not have them hit him anymore. He says he’ll do anything they say. The guard asks if he got his mind “right,” which means no more resistance, and Luke surrenders, stating he has. The other prisoners see him promise to never try to escape or talk back to the guards. The corrections officers vow if he doesn’t abide by his promises, they will kill Luke. There is then a cut to The Man with No Eyes. He is in the dark, so even though his sunglasses are not worn, his eyes are still not visible. He is like the Grim Reaper, a constant threat of death. As Luke heads back to the barracks for rest, one convict takes the photo of Luke stashed in the magazine and rips it up, his faith shaken by his hero’s defeat. The others turn away from him as Luke lurches toward his cot. He yells at them, saying “Where are you? Where are you now?” His anger shows how many abandon their heroes when they show that they are flawed like their followers.

The guards now test Luke’s pledge by making him do chores on the road. He is told to give water to the convicts. He must fetch the rifle for The Man with No Eyes who then shoots a turtle. The man loves to kill defenseless creatures. Luke must then retrieve the dead turtle. He cheerfully compliments the shooter, sounding like a slave, trying to please his master in order to survive. He is told to cut up the turtle for lunch. But instead of following that order, he drives off in one of the trucks, and stole the keys out of the other vehicles so the guards can’t follow him. Drag jumps into the truck with Luke, inspired by him, and the other prisoners smile as they have their faith restored.

On the side of the road, Drag covers up the truck with branches and laughs about how Luke fooled the guards and was planning his escape. Luke is honest and humble, saying the guards broke him, and he never plans anything. At night, Drag says he can get them some food and women and then they will free another prisoner. Drag is like a pumped-up disciple, riding the high of being emancipated. Luke says he has to be on his own, probably knowing that he will just draw fire. Drag says he only had a couple of years left to serve and he would have been released, but he got caught up in Luke’s escape. He agrees reluctantly to the splitting up, saying it’s probably safer for the two of them to separate.

Luke goes into a church and pleads to God, which is contradictory for Luke, since God is the ultimate authority figure. He says he knows he killed people in the war and broke the law, but says God “ain’t dealt me no cards in a long time,” which refers back to his struggling to succeed with a losing hand. The “rules and regulations and bosses” wielding those laws have made it impossible for him to win, he says. He stresses the contradiction of his existence by saying that God made him an outsider, someone who can’t deal with restrictions, so he asks, “Now just where am I supposed to fit in?” He asks what does God have in store for him, what does he do now? He concludes that there is no outside help coming and he has to “find my own way,” and continue as a loner living outside the frame of society’s restraints. The additional material on the version of the film I viewed noted that Luke’s situation mirrors the fate of the mythic Sisyphus, who was doomed to push a rock uphill for eternity, constantly using his will to overcome the impediment, but never succeeding. However, the existentialist Albert Camus found that one can find dignity in the struggle.

Police cars with the Captain and his men show up outside. Drag comes in and says there are dogs and cops with plenty of firearms and they caught up with him. He said he made a deal that if Luke gives up without a struggle, they won’t beat him, and they can bunk next to each other again. Luke knows this is a lie and laughs, saying God is a “hard case” like him, and is willing to sacrifice him, (as he did his son, Jesus). At an open window Luke repeats sarcastically the Captain’s words about having a “failure to communicate.” A split-second later The Man with No Eyes speaks by shooting again, hitting Luke on the side of the neck. Drag carries Luke out, but attacks the shooter with a vengeance, trying to strangle him. The Captain won’t let the local police take Luke to the closest hospital, but instead wants to go to the prison medical center. One of the cops says it’s too far and Luke won’t make it, which, of course, is the plan. As they pull out, Luke is smiling, and the sunglasses of The Man with No Eyes are smashed underneath car tires, showing that this lethal person has been somewhat diminished by Luke’s defiance.

Later, back at the prison, Drag, who now also wears leg chains as a kind of inheritor of Luke’s legacy, tells Luke’s final story, saying that he had that smile on his face as he rode away, showing that the authorities could never diminish this unique individual’s spirit. The movie implies that finding a person guilty for violating the law does not include the use of cruel and unusual punishment meant to break one’s desire for individuality, freedom and justice.

The next film is Falling Down.

Unforgiven

SPOILER ALERT! The plot of the movie will be discussed.

When one thinks of “revisionist” westerns, this 1992 Oscar winner for best picture is the first film that usually comes to mind. Here, we do not have your John Wayne clearly defined good-guy-vs.-bad guy motion picture where the righteous are rewarded and the evil punished. There is plenty of suffering and blame to go around in this film for most of its characters.

William Munny, (Clint Eastwood, also the director, who came to fame acting in this genre), is trying hard to make a go at being a reformed outlaw, one who was a mean drunkard that, as he later says, “killed just about everything that walks or crawled at one time or the other,” including women and children. His wife, now dead from smallpox, reformed him, sobered him up. But, as the Schofield Kid (Jaimz Woolvett) says, his walking the straight and narrow hasn’t been too prosperous for him. When we first see Will, he is sliding in the mud, trying to separate his healthy pigs from those that have “the fever,” and there are few healthy ones left. This man is obviously not your typical hero of the mythical, (which, by definition, means fictional) Old West. Perhaps he is a Job-like figure, who must be tested by God, or maybe he must experience suffering, including the loss of his beloved wife, to pay for the sins he has committed.

He is trying to take care of his young son and younger daughter when the Kid comes with an invitation to join him in order to collect a reward for killing a couple of cowboys. The reward is offered by the prostitutes of the town of Big Whiskey (the name hints at the moral decay of this world) in Nebraska because one of their members, Delilah (Anna Levine), had her face cut by a cowboy after the woman giggled at the sight of his tiny penis. In the Bible, Delilah is a femme fatale, a woman who takes away Samson’s strength by cutting his hair. In this film, men are satirized for being so preoccupied with their maleness that they commit horrible acts to defend their sexuality. Here, it is the man doing the cutting, but Delilah’s disfigurement is not a reflection of her ugliness, but that of her attacker. The women, although relegated to the profession of prostitution, assert themselves. Alice (Frances Fisher), is their leader. She says that “Even though we let them smelly fools ride us like horses don’t mean we gotta let ‘em brand us like horses. Maybe we ain’t nothing but whores but we, by god, ain’t horses!”

They want justice. But, that attribute is hard to come by in this world. The owner of the bordello, Skinny (Anthony James) is only worried about the loss of income he will sustain since he feels nobody will want to pay for sex with a scarred woman. Unfortunately, Alice gets no satisfaction from Sheriff Little Bill Daggett (Gene Hackman), who goes along with Skinny, reducing the argument to a matter of property. Since Delilah is “damaged goods,” Little Bill orders that the cowboys pay back Skinny with horses, basically equating, despite Alice’s protestation, the women with horses. Little Bill invokes a double gender standard, saying these men are not bad, because they don’t continuously do wrong things, which, as Alice points out, means they are not like “whores.” The implication is that women providing sex to consenting men is worse than the occasional violence of men done to women. So, the prostitutes pool their money and get the word out that they will pay to have the cowboys killed. In some Clint Eastwood films, (for example, The Outlaw Josey Wales and Absolute Power), the government is not an admirable institution, with those in power abusing the laws that are meant to protect the citizens, causing people to become outlaws (those outside of the law) to fix the damage.

Little Bill represents the “real” West as opposed to the romanticized version of literature and movies. It is probably no coincidence that his name, the “Little” making it sound ironically cute, and Will’s derive from the same proper name. Little Bill is really as bad as an outlaw while pretending to be an upholder of the legal order. Yes, he does try to stop violent crime in his town by not allowing firearms. But, only so he can retain all the power. The ways he treats prisoners is sadistic. One may say he is trying to prevent the killing of the cowboys, but if he had enforced the law fairly, the prostitutes wouldn’t have offered the reward in the first place. It is significant that the house that he is building, as one of the deputies says, “doesn’t have a straight angle in that whole god-damned porch, or the whole house for that matter.” He is as crooked as his home.

Little Bill’s encounter with English Bob (Richard Harris) and the latter’s biographer, W. W. Beauchamps (Saul Rubinek), further demonstrates the debunking of the idealized Old West. English Bob has a superior British attitude toward the United States. After a newspaper tells us that President Garfield was assassinated, he says that a country needs a king or queen, because he says, “the sight of royalty would cause you to dismiss all thoughts of bloodshed and you would stand, how should I put it? In awe. Now a president, I mean, why not shoot a president?” Later, as Little Bill throws him out of the town, he lectures the residents by saying that they have emigrated away from morals, laws, and honor. His elevated condescending speech supposedly upholding a sense of morality is ironic in the face of the reality that he just uses his attitude to justify his willingness to be an assassin, just like the one who killed the president, to collect the prostitutes’ reward.

This ironic contrast is mirrored in Beauchamps’ book title, The Duke of Death, making an outlaw appear to be royalty. Little Bill deflates the author’s version, calling English Bob “The Duck of Death,” and then reveals the accurate, sleazy events of one of Bob’s kills. In the incident, a man named “Two-Gun Corcoran” was so nicknamed not because he carried two weapons, but because the length of his penis was longer than the Colt he used. Again, just as in the attack on Delilah, we have man’s preoccupation with his sexual organ, and, as in Dr. Strangelove, there is a connection between man’s desire for sexual power leading to violence. And English Bob was not defending a lady’s honor, but was just jealous that Corcoran had sex with a woman he lusted after. There was no dramatic face-off between two skilled gunmen. Bob wanted to shoot his adversary before he had a chance to draw, but missed because he was too drunk. Corcoran rushed his draw after Bob’s miss and shot off his toe. Then one of his hands was blown off because his gun exploded. Bob killed an unarmed Corcoran. Little Bill says a real killer doesn’t have to be fast, just cool-headed. After English Bob leaves, Beauchamps remains with Little Bill, now recording the sheriff’s realistic version of history.

Will decides to join up with the Kid for the money. Even his own horse proves uncooperative, causing his rider to fall to the ground. Will, perhaps rightly, says he is being punished for having treated animals so cruelly in the past. The two join up with Will’s old partner in crime, Ned (Morgan Freeman), who has also become a farmer and doubts their ability to do the job. Ned is married to a Native American woman, Sally Two Trees (Cherrilene Cardinal). Notice how her name contrasts with Corcoran’s nickname, Two-Guns. She is another example of the female gender being the one that aspires to a higher standard of life. Her stern look when she eyes Will’s rifle stowed in his saddle illustrates her disapproval of her husband descending into his old ways.  

Will tries to convince Ned that their job is just to get a fresh start. He says that they did their type of work for money before. Ned punctures Will’s rationalization by saying “Yeah we thought we did,” implying that they really did their nasty deeds because, underneath, they enjoyed it. But, Ned also tries to buy into Will’s declaration that he’s not the kind of man he used to be. Will says, “I ain’t like that no more … I ain’t no different than anyone else.” But, he keeps having memories and dreams of past actions that haunt him and remind him that he is different. He tries to stay reformed, and refuses whiskey to keep him warm in a rain storm. He again seems to be punished despite his temperance, becoming ghastly ill. His guilty memories increase as he tells Ned that he has seen “the angel of death.” In the saloon, Little Bill continues Will’s penance by savagely beating him for not turning over his gun. He crawls out of the place, and is rescued by Ned and the Kid. Alice accuses Little Bill of “kicking the shit out of an innocent man.” Bill’s response is interesting; he says, “Innocent of what?” Instead of the usual perception that innocence is the norm and guilt the exception, in the topsy-turvy world of this story, guilt is assumed, and innocence is rare.

Will is near death after his illness and beating, and what we have in the following scenes is a sort of dark version of Christ and the resurrection. Like Jesus, Will comes back to life after three days. The first person he sees is the prostitute, Delilah, who Will says looks like “an Angel.” Could she also be considered a version of Mary Magdalene? He now has facial scars, like the woman’s. But, he says to her, “you ain’t ugly, like me, it’s just that we both have got scars.” It could be argued, somewhat like Christ, Will is taking on the sins committed by men like himself. But, this is not a holy environment, and self-sacrifice is not the way to make things right. He is a vengeful spirit.

Will, along with the other two, go off to kill the cowboys. Again, because this film is revisionist, we don’t have dramatic shooting contests at high noon between the opposing combatants, with a quick dispensing of righteous justice. Instead, the movie shows how difficult and agonizing it is to kill someone. Ned shoots the horse their target is riding, and the animal falls, breaking the man’s leg. Since Ned no longer has the stomach for dealing out death, he hands his rifle over to Will, who shoots the crawling man, who dies an agonizing death. The Kid then kills the other man, unarmed, caught literally with his pants down, in an outhouse, reflecting the foul nature of their mission. Because of his male youthfulness, The Kid (aptly named showing his lack of experience, but also named after a type of pistol), first admires Will’s history, the excitement of it, the danger, having been taught that being a man means showing that one is the better shooter. He boasts about killing five men (a lie) because that is what he feels is expected of him. He is surprised that the other two men don’t want to talk about their kills, not understanding how they don’t want to think about the horror they have perpetuated. Perhaps the Kid’s literal nearsightedness symbolizes his inability to see the outcome of the path he is on. After he kills the cowboy, the Kid is shaken. Will sums up how there is no nobility in taking a life: “It’s a hell of a thing, killing a man. Taking away all he’s got and all he’s ever gonna’ have.”

There are a number of times in the film that people state someone else “had it coming.” When Ned hears an exaggerated version of the cowboy’s cutting of Delilah, he says, “I guess they got it comin.’” After townspeople learn that one of the cowboys is dead, a rock is thrown through the bordello’s window. In response, Alice says, “He had it coming! They all have it coming!” In an attempt to clear his conscience and direct guilt outward, too, the Kid says of the men they killed, “Yeah, well I guess they had it coming.” But again, Will presents the big picture by pointing out that everyone must pay for all human crimes when he says, “We all got it coming, kid.”

Ned left the other two to return home but is caught, and Little Bill brutally whips him, looking for information about Will and the Kid, and eventually kills him. His body is grotesquely displayed in a coffin outside the saloon as a warning against “assassins.” When will hears about Ned, he becomes the Angel of Death he dreamed about. The Kid leaves, finally realizing that he wants no part of Will’s life, saying he’s not like the man he first admired. Will goes to the town and kills everyone in the saloon, proving the effectiveness of Little Bill’s statement that the most lethal man is the cool one, or in this case, the person who is ice cold. He spares Beauchamps. Will he write a book about Will, and will it be true or commercially romanticized?

Earlier, while talking to Ned, Will remembered killing a man who he recalls, “didn’t do anything to deserve to get shot.” Just before he finishes off Little Bill, the sheriff says, “I don’t deserve this, to die like this.” Will now understands that when it comes to individual lives, “Deserve’s got nothin’to do with it.” He tells the townspeople to bury Ned in a proper manner and leave the prostitutes alone, or else he will kill every man in town. His deadly skills have been used in a murky way by the universe to perform a demonic correction to the way of things. He may return to his children, move, and prosper “in dry goods,” but he knows he hasn’t stopped paying for his sins. When Little Bill said to him, “I’ll see you in hell, William Munny,” his response was, “Yeah.”

We’ll be skipping a week and then the next film is Dog Day Afternoon.