Few DVD releases this year so far have been more exciting to me than this issue of Criterion's Eclipse series, consisting of Sam Fuller's first 3 films. Fuller is, no question, one of the great American originals, completely inimitable (and perhaps indescribable, at times). This, his first feature, opens on a stark tableau: bank robbers and bank employees, tensely standing each other off, the robbers hesitating to shoot while the tellers try to waste their time. A signal is tripped, a siren blares, a shootout occurs, a bandit is wounded and a teller killed -- all in less than a minute. Jesse James and his henchman Bob Ford escape, James saving Ford's life and in typical Fuller fashion, foreshadowing his own doom as he tells Ford that now he's "responsible" for him.
This has little to do with what is known of the real James and Ford brothers; it seems pretty hard to believe that rural/western born Jesse was the cultured gentleman he acts in the early part of this film, and the later scenes of Ford and John (later Marshall John) Kelley bear scant resemblance to the historical record; no matter though if you're more interested in the taut, exciting storyline that Fuller has crafted. Jesse lasts just a few minutes on screen, and then it's Ford's turn to play on our sympathies as his cowardly actions haunt him for the rest of the film, and he tries to no avail to redeem himself in the eyes of his sweetheart, Cynthy, who we know instinctively will wait for him -- only so far.
Many of Fuller's trademarks are already in place: hard-bitten dialogue (though not so outlandish and over-the-top here as it would be in some later films), fairly heavy use of wide-eyed close-ups, and an in-your-face, blunt yellow journalistic style that on first glance may seem to admit little subtlety. Poke around a little though and you'll find a lot of complexity in the character of Bob Ford, especially, and a fairly ambiguous attitude about both vigilantism and honor. The acting is surprisingly solid here given Fuller's penchant for picking hammy players, though only Preston Foster as Kelly seemed entirely at home.
This has little to do with what is known of the real James and Ford brothers; it seems pretty hard to believe that rural/western born Jesse was the cultured gentleman he acts in the early part of this film, and the later scenes of Ford and John (later Marshall John) Kelley bear scant resemblance to the historical record; no matter though if you're more interested in the taut, exciting storyline that Fuller has crafted. Jesse lasts just a few minutes on screen, and then it's Ford's turn to play on our sympathies as his cowardly actions haunt him for the rest of the film, and he tries to no avail to redeem himself in the eyes of his sweetheart, Cynthy, who we know instinctively will wait for him -- only so far.
Many of Fuller's trademarks are already in place: hard-bitten dialogue (though not so outlandish and over-the-top here as it would be in some later films), fairly heavy use of wide-eyed close-ups, and an in-your-face, blunt yellow journalistic style that on first glance may seem to admit little subtlety. Poke around a little though and you'll find a lot of complexity in the character of Bob Ford, especially, and a fairly ambiguous attitude about both vigilantism and honor. The acting is surprisingly solid here given Fuller's penchant for picking hammy players, though only Preston Foster as Kelly seemed entirely at home.