Bone Tomahawk (18.)
Directed by S. Craig Zahler.
Starring Kurt Russell, Richard Jenkins, Patrick Wilson, Matthew Fox, Lili Simmons and David Arquette. 132 mins
The stardom of Kurt Russell is a spectral thing. He's been starring in movies for half a century but has that ever really transferred into actual stardom. This year he's in this and the Hateful Eight and suddenly his problem is all too obvious – he's a man born to play lawmen in westerns, born into an era where nobody makes westerns. For two months at least though westerns are back and Bone Tomahawk is a hell of western, a black comic/ gory horror/ cowboy movie hybrid unlike anything you've seen.
Russell is the sheriff here, leading out a group of four on a mission to rescue a wife, deputy and a criminal who have been kidnapped by some cannibalistic savages. The film is both savage and gentle. It is centred on the interplay between the four men: Russell; Wilson as the god fearing husband of the missing woman who hobbling along on a broken leg; Fox as the smarmy white suited killer with a grudge against injuns; and Jenkins as the scatty old deputy. The humour is essential. All the performers are excellent but Jenkins steals the film. It's a beautifully written role full of great lines and Jenkins delivers all his odd non sequiteurs and misunderstanding in such an understated way – he's stealing the film but not hogging it, there's still plenty of opportunity for the others to excel.
Take note though – that 18 certificate is there for a reason. There are number of scenes that will have you wincing and flinching, averting your eyes. The sense of the wild west being a place of brutal, random savagery (a major theme in films at the moment) is fully, but cheaply, realized. This is an all expenses spared effort. A lot of the exteriors looked like they were filmed on the same back lots where that were regurgitated every week in 70s TV programmes, the kind of terrain where episodes of Alias Smith and Jones, or The Incredible Hulk might have been filmed. It fits the film's odd miss mesh of styles – a classy ensemble cast that have somehow wandered away from the respectable drama they started out in and are now adrift in a low budget exploitation film.
Bone Tomahawk (18.)
Directed by S. Craig Zahler.
Starring Kurt Russell, Richard Jenkins, Patrick Wilson, Matthew Fox, Lili Simmons and David Arquette. 132 mins
The stardom of Kurt Russell is a spectral thing. He's been starring in movies for half a century but has that ever really transferred into actual stardom. This year he's in this and the Hateful Eight and suddenly his problem is all too obvious – he's a man born to play lawmen in westerns, born into an era where nobody makes westerns. For two months at least though westerns are back and Bone Tomahawk is a hell of western, a black comic/ gory horror/ cowboy movie hybrid unlike anything you've seen.
Russell is the sheriff here, leading out a group of four on a mission to rescue a wife, deputy and a criminal who have been kidnapped by some cannibalistic savages. The film is both savage and gentle. It is centred on the interplay between the four men: Russell; Wilson as the god fearing husband of the missing woman who hobbling along on a broken leg; Fox as the smarmy white suited killer with a grudge against injuns; and Jenkins as the scatty old deputy. The humour is essential. All the performers are excellent but Jenkins steals the film. It's a beautifully written role full of great lines and Jenkins delivers all his odd non sequiteurs and misunderstanding in such an understated way – he's stealing the film but not hogging it, there's still plenty of opportunity for the others to excel.
Take note though – that 18 certificate is there for a reason. There are number of scenes that will have you wincing and flinching, averting your eyes. The sense of the wild west being a place of brutal, random savagery (a major theme in films at the moment) is fully, but cheaply, realized. This is an all expenses spared effort. A lot of the exteriors looked like they were filmed on the same back lots where that were regurgitated every week in 70s TV programmes, the kind of terrain where episodes of Alias Smith and Jones, or The Incredible Hulk might have been filmed. It fits the film's odd miss mesh of styles – a classy ensemble cast that have somehow wandered away from the respectable drama they started out in and are now adrift in a low budget exploitation film.
