Great Western
The book
and subsequent TV mini-series Lonesome
Dove spawned a considerable number of prequels and sequels.
The
first story in terms of the chronology of McMurtry’s heroes Woodrow Call and
Gus McRae was Dead Man’s Walk,
published in 1995 and made into a TV mini-series aired in 1996.
While the
novel Dead Man’s Walk has little of
the majestic sweep of Lonesome Dove,
it is still an entertaining book, especially for Gus & Call fans who want
to know about their youth. Lonesome Dove was
essentially about two grizzled old men trying to recapture the old days of
adventure, and towards the end describes the death of one of them. They were
such larger-than-life characters that we inevitably want to know about those
days of adventure of their youth, when they were Texas Rangers.
Mr.
McMurtry starts us off on the banks of the Rio Grande with another strongly-drawn
whore, this time the Great Western, the buxom Matilda Roberts, walking “naked as
the air” from the river with a snapping turtle held by the tail. It is a
memorable image. Of course in the TV version she is clothed in long underwear
and throughout the film, as was the case with Lonesome Dove, language, nudity, violence (especially Indian
torture) and sex are discreetly toned down for 'family viewing'. For this reason
the books are earthier, saltier and more authentic too. Not that they are
salacious. But they are more fun.
The two
boys are on their first Rangers expedition, under a Major Chevallie (Chevallier
in the movie), mapping a stage route to El Paso through Comanche country. Early
on, Gus and Call come up against the feared Indian chief Buffalo Hump. McMurtry
has a way with fearsome Indians. Blue Duck in Dove was pretty ferocious and here, Buffalo Hump, the horse- and child-stealer Kicking Wolf and, to a slightly lesser extent in terms of character and
fear factor, the Apache Gomez are real malevolent presences. It is really
Buffalo Hump who dominates and we get a real sense of the sheer power and ferocity
of the Comanche. The Rangers, even the experienced ones, are completely outclassed.
On
returning to Austin, Gus just has time to fall for the storekeeper’s daughter
Clara Forsythe before the boys sign on for another, bigger enterprise: they are
to march to Santa Fe, New Mexico, and take it from the Mexicans. Commanded by sea-pirate
turned colonel Caleb Cobb, with a drunken General Phil Lloyd in tow as ballast, the rag-tag army
sets off to pick up all the gold and silver they believe is lining the New
Mexican streets.
McMurtry
describes the sheer incompetence and amateurishness of these semi-military
expeditions. Half a dozen Indians, and later a ragged army of Mexican boys make
mincemeat of them. In no time at all they are afoot, starving and lost.
The real
Santa Fe Expedition of 1841, a dismal flop, set out to claim the New Mexican capital for the
Republic of Texas. It was an unofficial attempt (privately backed by Texas President
Lamar) to gain control over the lucrative Santa Fe Trail. The merchants and businessmen
were accompanied by a
military escort of some 320 men led by Hugh McCleod which included a company of
artillery. It was
poorly prepared and provisioned and did indeed get lost. An advance guard finally arrived in New Mexico in
mid-September 1841 where they were captured and forced to walk 2000 miles to
Mexico City. They were held there until diplomatic efforts secured their
release the following year. The whole affair increased tensions between Texas
and Mexico and contributed to the Mexican-American War of 1846 – 48.
So McMurtry’s
story is at best loosely based on the expedition. But as I have often said before in
this blog, since when were Westerns supposed to give us historical fact? You
want history? Read a history book.
The
characters are very strong and were also very well cast in the TV version. Jonny
Lee Miller, 23, in his only Western so far, makes an excellent Call, already showing
those strong character traits of taciturnity, suppressed violence and almost
autistic inability to relate to others, especially women. David Arquette, 24, a
rather weak Jack McCall the previous year in Wild Bill, makes a very good young Augustus McRae, a gabby, squeamish, philanderer.
They both have excellent accents (they set off for Santa Fy) and both have that
slightly gangly, inexperienced naĆÆvety of youth – though they learn fast. If
you squint a bit, I guess they do look a little bit like a young Tommy Lee
Jones and Robert Duvall.
Miller and Arquette make very good Call and McRae
Their
Ranger friends are distinct, recognizable characters in the book and on TV the
actors chosen do an excellent job. They are led by Keith Carradine as Bigfoot
Wallace and Harry Dean Stanton as Shadrach. With their long muskets, buckskins
and in Shadrach’s case coonskin cap they are hardened scouts, more like
mountain men or trappers than Texas Rangers as we imagine them.
Carradine fine as Bigfoot
Stanton excellent as Shadrach
Ray McKinnon
(unforgettable as the parson on Deadwood)
is excellent as Long Bill Coleman and I loved Tim Blake Nelson as Bill’s
one-eyed pard Johnny Carthage. In his brief part there is Julius Tennon, the brutal
killer from Lonesome Dove, as Sam
the cook.
As for the leaders, F Murray Abraham is Col. Cobb, with a parrot,
Beelzebub, on his shoulder (Beelzebub was invented for the TV show but is a
happy creation) and the first-class Brian Dennehy, the corrupt sheriff from Silverado, is Major Chevallie in the
early part of the tale. Actually, though Abrahams was good, being a bit of a
Dennehy fan, I did rather wish that their roles were reversed and Dennehy had
led the Santa Fe expedition.
F Murray Abraham as Cobb, parrotless
The
commanders are incompetent and murderous fools. When the pathetic and
much-reduced group has finally crossed the Jornada del Muerto which give the
story its name, they are handed over as captives to the loathsome Major
Laroche, a Frenchman in the Mexican army, who organizes a particularly nasty
and sadistic ‘ceremony’ for the prisoners. The only exception to these gutter
officers is the stern but noble Captain Salazar, the Mexican soldier who leads
them in the ‘dead man’s walk’, very well played by Edward James Olmos in the film.
Edward James Olmos as the stern but sympathetic Capt. Salazar
As for
the women, Mattie is a wonderful creation (don’t get me wrong if I say that McMurtry
specializes in whores and Indians) and Patricia Childress does her justice on
TV. The film invents a little more of a backstory for her and her relationship
with Shad. Playing a young Anjelica Huston was a big ask but Jennifer Garner
does an excellent job as Clara. She is sassy, forward, bold and full of spirit.
I don’t know who played the veiled Lady Carey or her maid Emerald but they were
good too. (Lady Carey sings an aria from Nabucco
that Giuseppe Verdi had taught her in Milan in 1839; actually, though, Larry,
the first performance of Nabucco wasn’t
till March 1842. What, picky, moi?) Unlike
the book, the TV film gives more limelight to Call’s (semi-)relationship with
the whore Maggie and ends with that.
Jennifer Garner as Clara
Eric
Schweig is always outstanding. Think of his seriously creepy Indian in The Missing. Here he manages to play a
humpless hunchback with convincing aplomb. He is great and captures superbly the
pure hatred and essential violence of McMurtry’s character.
Schweig: superb as Buffalo Hump
Many of
the elements of Lonesome Dove are carefully inserted, as if to telegraph them
(though of course they were written afterwards) such as Gus’s loud voice and
his keen eyesight, and Call says, as he did after another explosion of violence
in Miles City, that he “won’t tolerate rude behavior”.
Both
novel and TV movie are very good and I recommend them. Best is to read the book
then watch the film right after.