The Magnificent Seven (1960)
A
review by Damian Cannon
A direct remake of Akira Kurosawa's
seminal classic, The Magnificent Seven proves pleasantly diverting
without achieving a similar personal depth. In a small Mexican village, not far
from the
Following the village wise man's (Vladimir
Sokoloff) advice, three set off for the border with
every last valuable. Here they
stumble across Chris Adams (Yul Brynner),
an apparently honourable and decent fellow. Luckily he takes pity on them and
their plight, electing to help for private reasons. Over the next few days
Chris scours the town, picking comrades. Vin (Steve
McQueen) signs up first, as sidekick, followed by avaricious Harry Luck (Brad
Dexter). Then, in quick succession, Chris manages to appeal to Lee (Robert
Vaughn), Bernado O'Reilly (Charles Bronson) and Britt
(James Coburn). Chris doesn't care about their motivation,
all he wants are reliable men. If only he could have this confidence in
In taking on the legacy of The Seven Samurai,
director John Sturges is setting himself up to be
attacked and rebuked. After all, no one likes to see his or her favourite
cinema experience diminished by an ill-considered copy. To his credit, Sturges avoids such an inglorious end despite matching
Kurosawa almost scene for scene. The basis for this escape is two-fold; Sturges shifts location sufficiently to avoid direct echoes
and his cast of now-stars has the requisite charisma and easy-going stance. In
retrospect the Western genre and The Magnificent Seven were made for one
another. Both depend on male bonding, outsider alienation and settler vs.
drifter conflict to provide drama. In this sense Kurosawa's script, modified by
William Roberts, is perfect.
Yet without his near-perfect group of actors, a major
stroke of luck, Sturges wouldn't have achieved nearly
so much. The point is that the characters are designed to cover nearly every
personality base, from raw recruit to hardened and tormented killer. Thus each
audience member is virtually guaranteed a favourite within the assembled
talent. As the chief motivator, Brynner is arresting
in an all-black costume. His aura of command complements the more light-hearted
McQueen, making them a fine, competitive double-act. These are the two
characters most developed by Sturges, though callow
Buchholz gets a fair amount of screen presence in his pursuit of romance. The
rest of the mismatched bunch is, however, burdened with flat, unexplored roles.
That's why very little personality, beyond each actor's intrinsic charm, shines
through.
In the case of Wallach, it's
a shame and a pity that Calvera gets a minimal amount
of action. An excellent and intuitive actor, even Wallach
is stumped when he's given nothing to work with. In fact this lack of attention
is one of the film's major flaws. The Magnificent Seven can't decide how
to handle the bad guys, so it takes the middle (and worst route); instead of
leaving them as ciphers, an almost elemental force, it gives them faces but no
substance. In consequence less time is given to the Seven, yet what do we gain
by knowing about their opposition? Nothing. The
Magnificent Seven lacks the brooding, oppressive atmosphere of the
original, so much so that we barely mourn for those slain in the climatic
battle. Without this critical bulk, the film fails to engage on a more than
superficial level.
Still, even a diluted remake of a masterpiece is bound
to be watchable, which Sturges'
creation certainly is. It looks pretty, thanks to the photography of Charles
Lang, and sounds great. Elmer Bernstein's score is both memorable and instantly
recognisable, a musical theme that has attained a lasting stature. If only this
aural breadth was matched by a similar use of widescreen; the setting is
perfect for landscape and shot framing, yet Lang allows the space to just sit
there, serving no purpose. Oh well, at least it's fun
to catch the stars of The Magnificent Seven before they began their
ascent into the