The Philosophy of the Western

FROM DOLLARS TO IRON: The Currency of Clint Eastwood's Westerns

149 FROM DOLLARS TO IRON The Currency of Clint Eastwood’s Westerns David L. McNaron We thought about it for a long time: “Endeavor to persevere.” And when we had thought about it long enough, we declared war on the Union. —Lone Wati, The Outlaw Josey Wales Expansive in scope, geographically, historically, and thematically, The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976) is a unique western. It has some of the best gunplay, most poignant dialogue, most colorfully vile minor villains, and most fully developed Indian characters in the genre. A film about vengeance, reconciliation , and community, Josey Wales extends Eastwood’s western character and resolves problems in the adult western concerning the individual and the community even as it raises others. It is Eastwood’s culminating western : to appreciate it, we must become acquainted with his others and tease out their themes. Josey Wales, an antigovernment film, advances a sort of transcendental argument about the conditions necessary for the possibility of community.1 These include virtues of the western hero such as self-respect, strength, and the capacity to use violence to exact vengeance or enforce rights. The film also deals in speech—and explores the counterfeit and genuine varieties. Consciousness heightens as Josey acquires companions and has his purpose diverted along the way, even as the landscape and times change dramatically , becoming ever more western, out of the Civil War experience, into what becomes a sprawling epic. I will apply points from Will Wright’s structural analysis of westerns in Six-Guns and Society.2 In Wright’s view the western hero mediates between the competing claims of wilderness and civilization, usually represented by 150 David L. McNaron two groups. There are four types of western plot: the classic, the vengeance variation, the transitional, and the professional. For Wright the plot types generate functions for social action in different phases of capitalistic society as well as illuminate possibilities for action in the present. John Cawelti criticizes Wright’s analysis as reductionist and narrowly ideological.3 However, an analysis is not incorrect simply because it is reductionist: each attempt must be evaluated on its merits. Wright does allow for the autonomy of culture. He selects the highest-grossing films each year for discussion but notes that big stars and big money do not always equal box office success. There have been spectacular big-budget/big-star failures as well as lowbudget smash hits. The key is the extent to which the film’s mythic structure conforms to social expectations. Wright abstracts away from particulars to provide accurate descriptions and explanations. This is a valuable strategy; however, sometimes the matter—the particulars—of a film becomes as important as the form. A prime instance is the sheer screen presence of Clint Eastwood—his physically imposing nature—and the tonal changes it has wrought. I will also draw on (pardon the pun), among others, Peter French and his thoughtful treatment of westerns in Cowboy Metaphysics and The Virtues of Vengeance.4 Let us now turn to a discussion of Eastwood’s place in the adult western.5 The Man with No Name The creation of an anonymous Hollywood marketing executive,6 “The Man with No Name” is a fitting moniker for Eastwood’s characters in the Dollars trilogy, but the character may have begun with Shane (1953), the prototypical classic western. When Starret introduces himself to the Stranger, Alan Ladd’s character replies: “You can call me Shane.” (Compare the narrator’s “Call me Ishmael” in Moby Dick.) Shane thus began the archetype that lasted through Once upon a Time in the West (1968) with Charles Bronson’s character Harmonica . Actually, two of Eastwood’s characters in the films directed by Sergio Leone do have proper names: Joe in A Fistful of Dollars (1964) and Manco in For a Few Dollars More (1965) (the name Manco means “one-handed” in Spanish; originally it was Monco, Italian for “monk”).7 In The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966), he is called Blondie. In what sense does Blondie qualify as the Good? He thwarts the law from carrying out a sentence on Tuco (Eli Wallach), a serious criminal, and he reneges on their partnership, abandoning Tuco in the desert. So the Good is not so good. But the Bad is very bad From Dollars to Iron 151 indeed, in the character of Angel Eyes (Lee Van Cleef). Tuco is the Ugly. Yet he...