The Greatest Westerns According to Our Dads
There’s arguably no genre more beloved by dads than westerns, especially by the generation of men who came of age around their heyday of the 1950s.
So we couldn’t let Westerns Month trot by without giving our own dads a chance to praise their own favorite of the Wild West.
Tombstone
Shawn (Julia York’s dad)
From the first frame of Tombstone the tone is set. Robert Mitchum’s indomitable voice-over establishes the coming story. Straight-forward. I appreciate straight-forwardness. Each actor seems to live in their part perfectly. I like the use of authentic period verbiage and slang. The quotable lines are nearly endless. Trustworthy friends. A collection of the finest mustaches ever captured on film. These are just a few of the reasons why Tombstone is my most repeatedly watched movie, and at the top of my list of Best Westerns.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
Ron (Kevin’s dad)
When Kevin asked me to write up a little review of my favorite western movie, this was the first movie I thought of. There are certainly a lot of good westerns to choose from with the likes of John Wayne and Clint Eastwood starring in multiple films, but Robert Redford and Paul Newman in my opinion are just magical together. Katherine Ross also costars in the film and is fantastic. Another plus: the legendary Burt Bacharach wrote the musical score.
The story is about two bank robbers who are constantly on the lam while always plotting their next nefarious adventure. One thing I like about this film is that there are some really funny scenes, which I’m not going to give away just in case you haven’t seen it yet. Since it was released in 1969, it probably isn’t at the top of the list for many of today’s movie fans, but I’m positive if you check it out you’ll enjoy the heck out of it.
Stagecoach
Dave (Chad’s dad)
Director John Ford was a master of capturing landscapes, towns, action scenes, and emotional dynamics. And as much as he filled the big screen with the beautiful vistas of Monument Valley National Park, he also filled Stagecoach with lots of heart.
Nominated for 7 Academy Awards including Best Picture, Stagecoach stars John Wayne, Thomas Mitchell, Claire Trevor, John Caradine, and Andy Devine as stagecoach passengers making their way through the Wild West to their final destination. It’s quite an array of characters: a prostitute who’s been run out of town, a high-minded banker, a drunk doctor, the traveling whiskey drummer who’s married with 5 children, a slick but gentlemanly Southern gambler, a soldier’s wife, and an escaped prisoner looking for revenge and justice.
Sitting with them in the cramped and dusty stagecoach, I recognize something of myself in each of these strangers. We’re on this bumpy and risky ride through life together as we face unexpected challenges, hopes, frustrations, and injustices. This movie was made in 1939 following the Great Depression and unaware of how world events would unfold in the coming global conflict, but I love how it represents the humanity and heart of people. The courage, love, and hopes of these townsfolk remain central amidst these trials.
The Outlaw Josey Wales
Jeffrey (Natalie’s dad)
The Outlaw Josey Wales, directed by and starring Clint Eastwood, is my favorite modern western. Most westerns have a simple premise: bad outlaws get defeated by good outlaws. And though most westerns before 1976 were about that, Josey Wales offers a different perspective of what life was like during those times. It was Eastwood’s early foray into demystifying westerns and revisionist post-Civil War history that interested me at a young age.
A Missouri farmer whose family is massacred during the Civil War by murderous “Redleg” Northerners decides to join a band of rebel raiders who after the armistice are massacred while surrendering. Josey escapes and goes on a rampage of his own while being chased by Union soldiers to find the “Redlegs” who killed his family. During that period, Josey realizes that identifying with the lowly midwesterners and Native Americans also changes him. The Comanches, who pose a threat to western expansion, want what the new immigrants want: a safe and protected life. But their choices of violence and retribution are rejected.
The depth and breadth of Josey Wales is impressive as well as entertaining. And the dialogue is filled with colloquial one-liners like “Don’t piss down my back and tell me it’s raining” and Josey addressing a would-be bounty hunter: “Dying ain’t much of a living, boy.” I think the seminal moment in the film is when Josey sees the commonality between his life and the life of the Comanche chief, Ten Bears, by making a blood oath between them and recognizing that they need to work together toward peace in order to live together and not engage in endless bloody conflict.
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance
Rick (Chad’s uncle)
The western was the perfect example of being able to know, without a doubt, the difference between good and evil. There was no middle ground. To borrow a quote from a Bonanza episode, “Are you a goodie or a baddie?” At eight years old, when I strapped on my two cap-gun pearl-handled six-shooters, there was no question I was one of the good guys. That's what the white hat meant.
There was that same kind of certainty in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. John Wayne and James Stewart were the protagonists, and Lee Marvin and his mean-as-hell crew were the antagonists. John Wayne was the quintessential roughneck of the old west, while James Stewart was the lawyer trying to bring civility to the west. The law of justice for all men, not the law of the land or the cruel tyranny of one man.
What I find most intriguing and illuminating is the final showdown. James Stewart, totally out of his elements, has been beaten down and ridiculed by Lee Marvin. Yet he gets up. He is willing to fight for what he believes the future is. All the residents of Shinbone were fixated on the drama playing out between James Stewart and Lee Marvin to its inevitable end. At the crucial moment, John Wayne fired the shot that killed Lee Marvin. John Wayne knew he killed a part of himself as well. A whole era of men. Knowing what he did, John Wayne disappeared into the shadows into his own private hell.
I grew up loving the smell of the exploding cap as the pistol jerked in my hand and the bad guy fell to the ground. When I was twelve years old I stood in the streets of Shinbone beside James Stewart knowing with certainty I was a “goodie” even though the world around me was desperately changing. The cold steel and ivory grips of the gun felt comfortable in my hand because I lived in that truth. I had yet to experience hell.