User Reviews

"NOW I OWE YOU!.......YOU PUT TWO HOLES IN ME"!

20 Century Fox's HOMBRE is an excellent and engaging western! Although somewhat unappreciated when it was first released in 1967 it has since gained cult status and is now recognized as a splendid example of the genre. Like the brilliant "The Stalking Moon" made the following year HOMBRE initially suffered from the drop in appeal of westerns with the general public that occurred in the sixties. But now with the production of the western all but extinct and western fans yearning for it to make a meaningful return (sans inane revisionist remakes like the awful "3 Ten To Yuma") - Hollywood's past efforts at producing them in the forties, fifties and sixties have gained considerable popularity with a younger generation. This has resulted in the works of John Ford, Raoul Walsh, Anthony Mann, Delmer Daves, Budd Boetticher and Henry Hathaway becoming just about as popular today as they were all those years ago.

From a fine novel by Elmore Leonard HOMBRE was brilliantly written for the screen by Irving Ravitch and Harriet Frank. Produced by Ravitch and Martin Ritt it was beautifully photographed in Panavision and Deluxe colour in the mountains of Arizona by veteran genius cinematographer James Wong Howe ("King's Row"/"Body & Soul") and was masterfully directed by the underrated Martin Ritt.

Paul Newman is John Russell - a white man raised by the Apaches. He is a discriminated passenger on a Stagecoach occupied by an array of quirkish characters. Jesse (Diane Cilento) is on her way to Bisby to start a new life after her marriage proposal is turned down by (about to go bad) Sheriff Frank Braden (Cameron Mitchell) ("I don't want a wife Jesse...I want out!"). There's Dr. Favor (the always wonderful Fredric March) as the Indian Agent who has just embezzled the Indian funds from the reservation accompanied by his beautiful and pert wife (the lovely Barbara Rush). And Cicero Grimes (Richard Boone) who intends to hold up the Stage and with his waiting gang make off with the Indian funds. But after a series of events in which Russell kills some of the gang and retrieves the money it falls to him to lead the hapless passengers all the way back to town on foot. They take refuge in an abandoned mine-works fending off Grimes and his men until finally Russell confronts Grimes face to face and his Mexican gunman (Frank Silvero). "that Vaquero is more than a fair hand with a gun" Grimes warns Russell followed by what is a climactic but ultimately tragic fast draw shootout.

Performances are quite exceptional from the entire cast! Newman is terrific in what is one of his best ever roles. It is certainly the best western part he played. Terrific too is veteran Fredric March in what would be his third and final film. The rarely seen Diane Cilento (Mrs. Sean Connery at one time) is superb in the female lead and never better is Martin Balsam as the Stage driver. But the acting honours has to go to Richard Boone as the baddie with the cracker of a name Cicero Grimes. His role not terribly unlike that which he played ten years previously in the Randolph Scott classic "The Tall T". And lest we forget the effective brooding score contributed by composer David Rose which lends a melancholy and reflective quality to this memorable and outstanding western.

Classic line from HOMBRE....... When Grimes sees he has been duped by Russell with empty saddle bags he snarls quietly......."Well now....and what do you suppose hell is going to look like?".

There has been no tougher or more formidable Western heavy than Richard Boone... He was a fine, respected actor and powerful presence, one of the screen's most efficient scene-stealer...

In 'The Tall T,' Boone was Randolph Scott's intelligent, embittered adversary, smooth as a rattlesnake and twice as treacherous; in 'Man Without a Star,' he wrapped non-conforming farmers in barbed wire; in 'Way of a Gaucho,' he was a mean, sadistic Major who persecuted Rory Calhoun; and in 'Hombre' he gave Paul Newman a rough ride: 'Well, now, what do you suppose hell is gonna look like?'

Not many of the serious Westerns of the late sixties can match the mood and authenticity of Martin Ritt's 'Hombre.' It is a suspenseful Western melodrama pointing up racial bias and hypocrisy, with a plot modeled on greed, nobility, prejudice and resignation...

John Russell (Paul Newman) has no emotion (except anger) and little vitality; he's totally alienated from mankind and is 'alienating' as well… Russell is a white man raised by the Indians, who call him "Hombre," and with whom he identifies…

Choosing to isolate himself from white society, which he despises, he lives on a reservation and looks and dresses like an Indian… But he's persuaded to cut his hair and return to civilization to take over some property… He winds up on a stagecoach with white passengers, who, learning his background, force him to ride with the driver… Not quite an Indian, and banished by whites, he's the classic outcast in no man's land… Ironically, Russell is the only one capable of rescuing the passengers from bandits and guiding them back to civilization… The drama depends on whether he will accept responsibility for his fellow man…

"Hombre," which reunited Newman with the "Hud" team (director Ritt, writers Ravetch and Frank, cinematographer Howe), resembles John Ford's classic Western, "Stagecoach": several people, whose personal crises are outlined, are thrown together, and their interactions provide a social commentary on avarice, bigotry and responsibility… But in Ford's film, those deemed worthless by society reveal their inherent nobility, and only one man, the absconding banker, is bad… Here, the embezzler of Indian funds—Favor (Fredric March), is not much worse than the others… Except for Jessie (Diane Cilento), an honest, earthy woman in the Patricia Neal-Hud vein, they're all helpless, coward1y or selfish…

In this context, Russell is an inversion of the John Wayne hero… He's strong and silent in the traditional manner, but instead of being the expected virile defender of the weak, he helps the others only when his own survival is at stake… He refuses to intercede when the malevolent bandit Grimes (Richard Boone) deprives a soldier of his seat; is willing to leave the helpless passengers stranded; indifferently sends Favor out into the desert without water; and declines to rescue Favor's Indian-hating wife (Barbara Rush), left by the bandits to bake in the sun…

Even though he acts out of a justifiable outrage, Russell is not meant to be a sympathetic character: the white man's mistreatment may have made him indifferently cruel, but cruel he is, nevertheless... Perhaps to soften our attitude, the filmmakers have him suddenly abandon his disengagement at the end, and perform the traditional act to rescue Favor's wife…

Newman's performance here is unlike any of his others… His style has been stripped away to the bare essentials; to call it underplaying would be an understatement… He imparts a sense of transcendent stillness; when he acts he does so suddenly, returning immediately thereafter to his relatively immobile state… He speaks laconically, in clipped sentences, with a solemn, deliberately monotonous, almost lifeless voice… In addition, his facial expression hard1y changes; at times it approaches an infinitesimal smile, but otherwise it is unsociable, severe, bitter, or inscrutably neutral…

At first glance, it seems that Newman is hard1y acting, and some critics called him wooden… Russell's inscrutable expression is a mask to cover his ingrained hurt, and suggests a man in a constant state of meditation or deep reflection on the chaos around him… Appropriately, the film opens and closes on close-ups of his face, and throughout, our attention is directed toward the blue eyes, which are constantly watching, thinking, judging, condemning…

Newman also frequently folds his arms as if protecting or insulating himself from the world—a natural defense mechanism of someone who's suffered a great deal of pain, and a physical equivalent of his psychological introversion… This is Newman's most completely self-sufficient, isolated, and inhuman loner, and he gives a performance that bravely risks complete alienation of the audience… And that's what happens; as in "Torn Curtain," the character is ultimately non-involving… But it's an extremely interesting piece of disciplined acting…

Martin Ritt puts the whole picture together in a straight, precise layout of plots, accumulating action that holds interest up to the big scenes... Of all the sequences which stay in the mind, perhaps the most memorable is that in which the Mexican bandit (Frank Silvera) painfully congratulates Russell as a sharp shooter: 'Hey, Hombre! A compliment on your shooting. You put a hole in me.'

I am very surprised. Usually the CONNECTIONS tab on IMDb is very helpful and lists all the various versions and remakes of a given film. However, no credit is given to the film "Stagecoach" (1939)--and "Hombre" is clearly a remake of this classic film. Now perhaps this omission is because it's really more of a reworking of the original film--with quite a few changes to the plot--but still, the original story is easy to notice.

The film begins with Paul Newman dressed like an American-Indian. I thought the film was stupid as the idea of the blue-eyed Newman playing an Indian is ridiculous. But, you then learn that Newman was NOT an Indian but had been raised by them--and this was an interesting twist. That's because there's a lot of prejudice he faces throughout the film--and it makes sense to have a plot line like this as the film was made in the 1960s--when racial matters were at the forefront.

Later in the film, a motley group (again, very much like those from "Stagecoach") are stuck in the desert when a group of robbers attack. But, it turns out to be a bit of a standoff--and the stupid folks now have to rely on Newman--a guy they'd treated like dirt because of his Indian ways. And, the 'savage' turns out to be their best friend in this predicament--whether he wants to be or not! While some may find the film a bit downbeat (particularly the ending), I liked the film quite a bit because of its plot about racism. Also, Newman, as usual, does a fine job. The only reason I didn't score it higher is because the plot isn't exactly new--but they did manage to breathe some life and originality into it.

SPOILER ALERT! Less a western & more of a morality play. A group of disparate types have their stagecoach robbed and they're left without horses. They soon find themselves being pursued by the same gang of thieves. Paul Newman is a white man raised by Apache & serves as the traveler's protector and he's not particularly convincing. The supporting cast is large and includes Richard Boone, Martin Balsam, Diane Cilento and Barbara Rush. Fredric March is a bull-headed professor who tangles a bit too much with Newman. Most of the acting is very good and Cilento is a standout as widow who's seen it all and has very little patience for the wild west's bigotry and heartlessness. Filmed in the Coronado National forest in Arizona by the great James Wong Howe. Frequent Ritt collaborators Irving Ravetch & Harriet Frank Jr. did the script based on a story by Elmore Leonard. Ritt & Newman made several great movies together (HUD, THE LONG HOT SUMMER), but this is not one of them. It's a bit too preachy for its own good and the miscasting of Newman is an obstacle it never really gets over.

Long before Elmore Leonard became the darling of mystery thrillers, I heard once upon a time, he wrote several Westerns. Still, I was amazed to see that one of them had actually been adapted to the screen and I'm very impressed with the results. John Russell (yet another great performance from the ever-excellent Paul Newman) has to be one of the more unusual protagonists that I've seen in a Western. Strong-silent types are a dime a dozen, but Newman adds an extra level of intensity that makes Russell's characteristic silence something more unsettling. Whenever he explodes into violence, it's twice as scary to me than usual.

Everybody else in the cast is, more or less, about who they are and what they're about (thankfully, we get the sense that we're watching real people as opposed to classic Western stereotypes), but not Russell. Russell is the only one I couldn't quite figure out. It's obvious that he does care a little (as the initial scene in the cantina showed), but most of the time, all I could see was a stony indifference to the petty concerns of the people under his charge. His primary goal is more basic: survival. Despite that, he dies saving the life of a woman who'd insulted him more than once on the initial leg of the trip. Now why would he do something like that? I can't say that I know, but I very much doubt that it's for such noble reasons as self sacrifice for a fellow human, etc. Keep in mind that this guy heard this woman scream for several hours for someone to come and get her without batting an eye.

Ascribing easy answers and platitudes to this film is less than pointless. It's really about human nature more than the Old West and when it comes to that subject, there are no easy answers.