It's been a long time since I saw a western movie, Brokeback Mountain is not counted :-) Escada's three funerals are considered half.
The redemption half is not counted, and I don't like it. For me, the two-hour road of reflection is not as real and shocking as the moment when the soldier rushed down from the mountain and found that he had killed by mistake. He sat outside his house and smoked tremblingly, and he had already begun to struggle towards heaven. The final apology came. Not surprisingly, and not so logically.
Thanks to the directors and screenwriters for not spending all their time on the propositions of redemption and self-reflection. The seven and eighty-eight stories about loyalty, stubbornness, and grievances that have been strung in along the way are the essence of the long-lost West. The topic is more enjoyable. The coquettish but not merciless boss lady, the fierce bear hunter is actually bold and generous, the Mexican girl and the soldier nose to nose, eye to eye, the calmness after enmity and hatred is as comfortable as the sun shining on her body. The ten minutes of the blind old man, simple, calm, but the people watching are full of energy, it is my favorite section. In this film, all the rough, simple and beautiful can only be found in Mexico on the other side of the border. That is the ideal home for real cowboys. This is the last look to the spirit of the declining West.
The honest filming method and the plain and clean picture support a bit of a legendary spirit. With this, it is enough for Tommy Lee Jones, who was the first director.
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