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‘It’s a hell of a thing, killin’ a man,’ says thief and killer William Munny (Clint Eastwood, who also directed) in Unforgiven. ‘You take away all he’s got and all he’s ever gonna have.’ Practically an antimovie, this revisionist Western rejects the concept of casual murder that many films revel in to examine why ‘it ain’t so easy to shoot a man.’
Dances with Wolves is one of the most visually and emotionally stunning movies I’ve ever seen, a glimmer of another world where less might have been lost if more people had been as open and friendly as John Dunbar. From John Barry’s stirring score to director/producer Costner’s daring presentation of a huge chunk of the movie in the beautiful Sioux Lakota language (with subtitles), this is a majestic requiem for a world that is gone.
Wichita just ain’t far enough west for Yancey Cravat (Richard Dix). He longs for the untamed frontier. So when the 1889 Oklahoma land rush puts 2 million acres up for grabs, he packs up the wife, Sabra (Irene Dunne), and the kid, Cimarron (which means ‘wild,’ we’re told), and heads off to help build a new world, or, more specifically, the boomtown of Osage, Oklahoma.
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