Deadwood: The Movie

Even the film poster celebrates the F-word

(Spoiler alert: if you're a Deadwood fan, you won’t like what follows.)

I watched Deadwood: The Movie last evening. A little late to the game, but it's difficult to watch this western with teenage girls in the house. Actually, the three thirteen-year-olds have only lived with us a week and the HBO Film has been available for over six weeks. In truth, I wasn’t keen to see it. After three separate attempts, I never finished the series … and I write Westerns for a living. What’s wrong with me?

I loved the television show until Wild Bill Hickok died, then I no longer cared about any of the characters. Deadwood didn’t draw me back because the story wasn’t compelling. Same for the HBO Film. The movie tied up every loose end, and every actor got to invoke their character’s iconic pose, but the main storyline could easily have been captured within a single episode. The rest felt like fill and forced nostalgia.

The problem with Deadwood is the overuse of visual and dialogue gimmicks to project an artful image. The ploys get old after a few episodes. The harsh profanity mixed with stylized formal speech reminded me of Betty White using the F-word; funny at first, tiresome with repetition. The cardinal rule of storytelling is to never take the reader/viewer out of the story, and the odd dialogue did just that.

Many believe the stilted speech—punctuated with swearwords—made the show unique and artsy. Executive Producer David Milch insists that the vulgar, Elizabethan-like dialogue is based on historical research. To steal a word from the era: poppycock. No characters talked this way in any of the stories by Mark Twain, Louisa May Alcott, or Owen Wister, who were all there. In that age of propriety, they would have omitted profanity, but I doubt Wild West speech would make rap singers sound virginal. In case you think I'm a prude, I occasionally use harsh profanity in my novels, but sparingly, so the impact is not diluted by repetition.

The Deadwood dialogue reminds me of James Fenimore Cooper’s attempt to invoke an earlier age with excessively formal language. Cooper wrote historical novels that occurred about a hundred years in the past. Mark Twain, my favorite Western author, didn’t like Cooper’s writing. Wait, that was far too mild of a sentence. In his article “Fenimore Cooper's Literary Offenses,” Twain ridicules, lacerates, and skewers Cooper.

I may be mistaken, but it does seem to me that "Deerslayer" is not a work of art in any sense; it does seem to me that it is destitute of every detail that goes to the making of a work of art; in truth, it seems to me that "Deerslayer" is just simply a literary delirium tremens. A work of art? It has no invention; it has no order, system, sequence, or result; it has no lifelikeness, no thrill, no stir, no seeming of reality; its characters are confusedly drawn, and by their acts and words they prove that they are not the sort of people the author claims that they are; its humor is pathetic; its pathos is funny; its conversations are -- oh! Indescribable;  its love-scenes odious; its English a crime against the language.

Counting these out, what is left is Art. I think we must all admit that.

Twain wrote about dialogue in another section:

When the personages of a tale deal in conversation, the talk shall sound like human talk, and be talk such as human beings would be likely to talk in the given circumstances, and have a discoverable meaning, also a discoverable purpose, and a show of relevancy, and remain in the neighborhood of the subject at hand, and be interesting to the reader, and help out the tale, and stop when the people cannot think of anything more to say. But this requirement has been ignored from the beginning of the "Deerslayer" tale to the end of it.

Even the style of this article is meant to mock formalistic writing.

In summary, the starchy speech demanded attention but didn’t enhance the storytelling. I found the volume and volume of profanity off-putting and wearisome. The nostalgic scenes didn’t work for me because I hadn’t missed the characters. Excluding that, what is left is pretty good. I think we all must admit that.

You might also like: Mark Twain Tells Us How to Write

Sisters Brothers—The Movie

Joaquin Phoenix and John C. Reilly

This weekend I saw Sisters Brothers. I write westerns, so I’m critical of Hollywood ventures into the genre. They often mess it up by leaning toward the politically correct or destroying the story with CGI. This time they got it right. The Sisters Brothers is a good western film worthy of the fine novel by Patrick deWitt. That’s saying a lot. Except for Lonesome Dove, most directors view a book as a loose guide, rather than a roadmap. (hint, hint)

Great Cover

The Sisters Brothers is a character study ... and a study of not particularly admirable characters. The appeal is in the dialogue and humor. Thankfully, there are few special effects to take the viewer away from the story. I might be tempted to think Hollywood has learned a lesson, but I suspect this is a one-off because the novel’s author is Canadian and the film’s director French. Leave it to foreigners to revitalize an American genre. Jacques Audiard keeps the film within the spirit of the novel and directs a true western without relying on grandiose landscapes, unhistorical duels, or CGI. He does include a lot of killing, however. After all, the Sisters Brother are assassins.

The film is rated 85% at Rotten Tomatoes. 

Here is the New York Times review.

Owen Gleiberman, Variety’s Chief Film Critic seemed more interested in virtue signaling than critiquing the movie, but here is his review as well. I find Gleiberman’s review interesting because it displays many of the biases which keep Hollywood from making more good Westerns.

Blade Runner vs. Blade Runner 2049

Blade Runner 1982

versus

Blade Runner 2049

IMDB users rate Blade Runner 2049 at 8.2 out of 10. Pretty heady rating for IMDB. I’m aware that anyone who preferred the original gets dissed as an ol’ fogey. I fall into the old category, but don’t admit to the fogey part. Nevertheless, I will go on record as preferring the original. (Both films scored 8.2)

My reasons are from a different perspective than most. Admittedly, film is an art form and presentation certainly plays into the craft. From a visual perspective, I might even give Blade Runner 2049 the edge. It paints a dystopia world with deft precision. Where it falls behind the original is the crux of good storytelling. Bad guys gotta be bad.

In the original movie, Rutger Hauer portrayed Roy Batty with relentless malevolence, yet managed, in the end, to elicit compassion for his character. Batty was a worthy rival, who transitions into a sympathetic victim. A fine piece of acting, that.

Luv vs. Roy

On the other hand, Sylvia Hoeks plays Luv like a high school mean girl, and the script resorts to clichés to portray her evilness. For example, when Luv stomps on K's mobile projector to kill Joi, it reminded me of a B-movie where the antagonist kicks a dog to convey dastardliness.

And then when Luv finally dies, we think, oh good, it’s over. When Batty dies, we weep.

I’m prejudice, of course. I believe the art in storytelling requires an antagonist that presents a heavy challenge to the protagonist. Heroes need villains to be heroic. We want the protagonist to win, but he or she keeps losing until just before the curtain falls. The tension comes from uncertainty. Even though we’ve seen story upon story, each time we are transported to another place and time where the villain might actually win. Sometimes, we get a reveal at the end that turns the protagonist’s victory poignant. A neat trick, when done right, and the original Blade Runner pulled this off with panache.

And that’s why I prefer the Blade Runner 1982.

Sam Elliott, A Favorite

Sam Elliott is one of my favorite actors. Although he has done outstanding work in Western films, I first became a fan after watching the 1976 Lifeguard. Elliott had the lead role in this coming-of-age film. He dominated the screen, but I really liked his character because I identified with his beach bum mindset.

I grew up in what is called the South Bay area of metropolitan Los Angeles. The South Bay was an odd collection of beach cities south of the upscale Malibu and Santa Monica. It was a perfect time to grow up in a perfect place. Surfing, friends, bikini-clad girls, and a little school on the side. I spent more time at the Second Street street-end in Hermosa Beach than I did at school ... sometimes at my principle’s invitation.

Lifeguard was filmed in the South Bay, so I had an immediate connection. Elliott plays a lifeguard who is constantly harangued about getting a real job. It is a nicely crafted script, and great performances by Sam Elliott, Anne Archer, and Kathleen Quinlan lifted a low-budget film above the commonplace. This was shrewd casting, since they all went on to become stars.

What brought all this to mind was an interview with Sam Elliott at A.V. Club. The interview is comprehensive, with film clips, lots of Hollywood insider stuff, and it ranges all over his remarkable career, including his Westerns. (Warning: It’s also sprinkled with F-bombs.) 

I had forgotten about Lifeguard until he mentioned the film, and the reference brought up a host of pleasant memories. It also reminded me that I once owned a tee-shirt that read, “There is no life east of Pacific Coast Highway.”

If you have never seen the film, pick it up and take a gander at a unique moment in time when Southern California beaches were uncrowded and life was truly simple. It’s also a great story.

Hollywood at its Worst

Us Old Guys Don't Like Change

I rented Man of Steel last night. When I saw it in the theater, I was disappointed. Actually, more than disappointed. My first words to my wife were, “I hated that movie.” My wife felt differently, so I decided to give it a second chance. I still hate the film.

Man of Steel is a prime example of Hollywood’s penchant for CGI over storytelling. We don’t need characters, just eye-popping explosions with booming sound effects. I’m a fan of Amy Adams, but in this film she came across flat. And Perry White? What was that about? His role contributed nothing to the storyline. This darker Superman moves in the direction of an anti-hero, so perhaps that explains his complete lack of humor. The bad guys and gal were unmemorable, which is crucial to storytelling.

When director Zack Snyder met with his CGI geeks, I’ll bet the conversation went like this:

“We got some really terrific stuff,” the head-honcho geek says. “We put together thirty sequences of Superman and Zod crashing through buildings so you can pick the ones you like.” 

After watching the special effects, Snyder slaps the honcho guy on the back and says, “Nice work. We’ll use ‘em all.” 

“Okay, what about the fanciful creatures on Krypton? We’re over budget.” 

“Just slap something together. Maybe adjust some of that flying dragon stuff you used before. Just get something quick and cheap.”

The CGI was intended to appeal to the younger, hearing-impaired market, but some hacks also tried to wrench the plot around to appeal to women. One of the major themes of the saga is Lois Lane trying to discover the identity of Superman. But some Hollywood genius said women want romance, and they’re unwilling to wait for a sequel. Simple. We’ll discard that useless bit of tinsel and rewrite Lane as the strong champion and savior of Superman, and that way they can flirt from the gitgo.

I could be wrong, of course. Man of Steel may be a classic. A smart retooling of the saga for a modern worldwide audience. The movie did gross nearly $300 million in the United States alone. However, it cost somewhere around a quarter billion dollars. Even with foreign box office and home rentals, that does not qualify as a blockbuster.

I might be a curmudgeon, but I liked the original Superman better. I preferred the humor and light tone and creativity. The domestic gross was three times the budget, so they must have got something right.

Books that drove me mad

Kimberly Turner published a piece on Lit Reactor titled, “7 Horrifying Ailments Named After Literary Characters.” I believe she missed a few, but then Turner wrote about real ailments. Here are a few phobias I developed from reading books.

Marathon Man made me afraid of the dentist.

Ever since Psycho, I lock the bathroom door when I shower.

The Ghost and the Darkness made me fear tall grass.

2001: A Space Odyssey convinced me computers were out to get me.

Apollo 13 made me afraid of the number 13.

The Da Vinci Code kept me away from art museums.

The Shining made me avoid long, empty hallways.

How do you think Westerns have evolved in film?

Robert Duvall is one of my favorite Western actors. (Others on my list include John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, Tom Selleck, Gene Hackman, Sam Elliott, Steve McQueen, … oh never mind, there are too many.)

Duvall starred or had a major role in Lonesome Dove, Open Range, Broken Trail, True Grit, Joe Kidd, Lawman, and The Great Northfield, Minnesota Raid.

Recently in an interview, he was asked, “There have been some takes on the western genre recently, with Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained and The Lone Ranger. How do you think Westerns have evolved in film?”

He answered: “Well, if that's what it's evolved into, I don't know what to say (laughs). That's all I'll comment on at this point.”

‘Nuff said.

Guns and Horses: Getting it Right

Western writers are like other fiction writers in that they have super powers. They can bend time, compress space, and sweep away boring people, mundane tasks, and toilet needs.  Writers can magically have their characters do and say whatever’s necessary to incessantly move the story forward. Instead of wielding a wand, writers brandish a keyboard. No wonder so many writers are egotistical.

The exception: John Wayne got guns right

There is one major difference between Western writers and other authors—they need to get guns and horses right. Western enthusiasts will suspend disbelief in every other aspect of a written story, but not guns and horses. Odd, because Western movies enjoy forbearance that a novel does not. A film can run a horse forever, fire eight shots from a six shooter, or shoot with precision from horseback. Western readers, on the other hand, tend to be sticklers for accuracy about these two areas when they occur in print. That’s why I use gun and horse specialists to proof my Westerns.

What brought all this to mind was a Cracked article about “6 Stupid Gun Myths that Everyone Believes (Thanks to the movies).” The piece deals mostly with modern guns, but a few of the 6 myths relate to nineteenth century guns. For example, a dropped Colt Peacemaker could go off. That was not a myth in the olden days. Reputedly, it happened to Wyatt Earp when he sat in a saloon chair. That is why Westerners often kept the chamber under the hammer empty, making their pistol a five-shooter. 

“Shotguns Are Room-Clearing Murder Factories” applies equally to the Western double barreled shotgun. Marshals who held off a lynching party with a shotgun looked threatening, but could only kill two vigilantes before reaching for a pistol. As Wild Bill Hickok and Bat Masterson attested, the myth that "Deadly on the Gun Range = Deadly in Real Life” is apropos for gunfighters in the Wild West.

The article is a fun read, but unfortunately many of the movie clips have been disabled due to copyright issues. Too bad. The clips that work do a fine job of illustrating Hollywood gun myths.

Honest westerns filled with dishonest characters.

How about a free vacation?

Matt Haig posted an article titled “12 Years as a Writer”. It’s a lessons-learned piece. I especially like #11, which reads:

“We like stories because time moves us forward, when what we want to do is move sideways. We want to live every possible life, not just ours. Stories are how we can window shop other possible lives without committing to them. They teach us everything.”

While we’re immersed in a story, time in our world seems to stop. How often have you looked up from a book and asked yourself where the time has gone.  It is possible to time travel. All we need is a great novel. It transports us to another place and time and then quietly dumps us back into our own world without all the pyrotechnics of the movies.  As Haig says, a story allows us to “window shop” other ways of life vicariously ... and safely.

Storytelling is an art, and because everyone can enjoy it with no special knowledge, it is the universal art.

So … find a good book and take a vacation. You can visit anywhere, any time. Happy reading.

Honest stories filled with dishonest characters.

The complex lives of common people

Shane is one of my favorite Western films. The Jack Schaefer book is also one of my favorite Western novels. There are great films and there are great books, but Shane is a rare instance where both the book and film are distinguished in their own right. The movie is an honest rendition of Schaefer’s story, while artfully making adjustments for a visual presentation of a novel.

In honor of its 60th anniversary, Andre Soares wrote a Alt Film Guide piece about the movie. I didn’t like the article. Among other things, Soares seems apologetic that he admires the film. After all, this is an art film site, and how could a Western be art? The following paragraph reveals his prejudice.

“Now, what makes Shane special is that while Stevens and Gurthrie Jr.’s movie feels like a paean to the Old West and to Western movies in general, it actually demythologizes both American history and the film genre that turned into stars the likes of Tom Mix, John Wayne, Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, and, later on, Clint Eastwood. Read between the lines and you’ll see how subversive Shane is — how unheroic its heroes are, how complex the lives and minds of its "common people," how civilization can be just another manifestation of barbarism; and, no matter their righteousness, how hollow human victories can be.”

What claptrap. This is basically a glass-half-empty view of humankind. The film I saw was far more uplifting and hopeful. Shane is a story of redemption, not the barbarism of civilization. To justify his admiration for Shane, Soares basically claims there is a depth to the story that is uncharacteristic of the genre. He needs to read and watch more Westerns. Sure, there are lots of junky Westerns, but despite Raymond Chandler writing great fiction, a lot of crime drama is also unmemorable. The depth and nuance of Schaefer’s story is not uncommon, nor are instances of quality in Westerns any more rare than for other popular genres.

Shane is a great story, presented admirably in the print and film versions. Just ask Clint Eastwood and Robert Day, the directors of Pale Rider and The Quick and the Dead, both basically remakes of Shane.

10 Films that Revolutionized Computer Graphics

I object when computer generated imagery overwhelm the story. Actually, I've objected when CGI is substituted for storytelling. About.com has listed what they believe are the 10 Films That Revolutionized Computer Graphics. I think it is a good list, but I would have added one of the superhero film.

Blade Runner

CGI is a great development in film when it is used to advance the story instead of as an end in itself. I think Jurassic Park is an excellent example of the blending of live action, CGI, and storytelling.

Related Posts

Can the Bloody Benders Revive Western Film?

Hollywood—Get Real

Something Fun!

I'm in New York City visiting my son and his family. Okay, my son is really on a business trip and I'm filling in for him at a father/daughter event. The event was last night and we had a great time cruising the Hudson River. My son will be back this evening, so we'll have the weekend to catch-up and watch his son play a double-header. Since I'll be busy with more important matters, here is something fun. I never would have guessed that this was the most popular line in film.

 

And now starring ...

Good books can make good movies. This is especially true if the script is true to the book. This doesn't mean a movie should doggedly follow a book. Film and novels are different mediums. They present stories through different senses, so there must be an adaptation from one media to another. Gifted scriptwriters know how to do this, as can be seen in Lonesome Dove. The reverse is seldom true. When novels are written to take advantage of a hit movie, they are invariably cinematic, not literary.

Click for hot properties!

On the other hand, can good movies be made about books? BookRiot has published a list of 17 movies starring books. There are some good films on this list, but they make me wonder. Do writers get tired of making heroes out of cops and detectives, Cowboys on horseback or in pickups, teenage vampire killers, or even people working in exceptionally boring crime labs? Do they decide, hey, what about us? We can be heroic … and besides, we control the keyboard.

Don’t know, but movies about books are much more interesting than movies about writing. I mean, how exciting is writer’s block? Does the actor type faster to pick up the pace of the story? The pen is mightier than the sword, but a typewriter makes an awkward weapon. Writers can be interesting characters, but outside the author’s mind, writing looks as dull as running a DNA test. Humm? Anyway, the better movies on this list focus on the writers and their books, not the act of creation.

By the way, where is Little Women on this list?

Opening Lines to a Novel

Elmore Leonard wrote great opening lines ... first sentences that immediately drew the reader into the story.

Elmore Leonard

The Stacks compiled a chronological list of all of Leonard's opening lines. The list should be inspirational to every writer other than me. Not many have noticed, but I've already committed to all of the opening lines of my Steve Dancy series. Each tale begins with a single word. The Shopkeeper opened with "Two," and each succeeding novel opened with the next higher digit. The first sentence in my latest book in the series, Crossing the Animas, reads "Seven."

What happened to One? I've reserved it in case I decide to write a prequel about why Dancy left New York City for adventure on the American frontier.

This may not be a creative approach to opening lines, but it has one huge advantage. I can write the first sentence of each new novel without thought and tell myself that I've actually begun the book. Once writing starts, the story keeps drawing me back to the keyboard.

Second or First in the Series?

Honest westerns filled with dishonest characters.

Can the Bloody Benders Revive Western Film?

Bender General Store and Inn

In the early 1870s, the Bloody Benders were a family of serial killers on the Kansas prairie. The four members of the family could not be weirder. If they were a family. The only thing known for certain is that there were four of them and they killed over a dozen travelers that ate or stayed at their makeshift general store located along a popular trail to the West. One more thing is known, they escaped.

This is a fascinating story and now The Topeka Capital Journal reports that two Harvard graduates are making an independent film about this grotesque piece of Western lore. There may also be a Hollywood production about the Bloody Benders. I’m rooting for the indie film. 

When the resurgence occurs in Western film, it will come from solid storytelling. My money is on indie films because they can’t afford elaborate computer generated effects, so they have no choice but to concentrate on a great script. Western enthusiasts keep hoping that movies like Cowboys and Aliens or The Lone Ranger will rejuvenate the genre. Small films have a better chance.

Bender Knife

IMDB reports an estimated budget for Open Range of only $26 million, a pittance for a movie with two bankable stars. Dances with Wolves was only $19 million.  Quigley Down Under $20 million. And even the remake of 3:10 to Yuma was only $55 million. On the other hand, films with nine figure budgets have harmed the genre. Big losses sour Hollywood powers-that-be on Westerns and they’re too dumb to figure out they threw away their money on a lousy script because they believe CGI, fast cuts, and a pulsing soundtrack were the key to a blockbuster.

Good storytelling draws audiences into movie houses … and that’s the forte of low budget films. Since Hollywood is blockbuster obsessed, we’ll have to rely on indie films to have an enjoyable night at the movies with a box of hot, buttered popcorn.

I Just Gave Away Over 300 Books

Those of you who follow this blog probably know my wife and I are moving from Arizona to Nebraska. It's been over twenty years since we've moved and we forgot how much work it is. To keep moving costs down, we're giving away lots of stuff to the Salvation Army and Goodwill. Another possession we took a hard look at is books. They're heavy, thus expensive to move. We donated well over 300 books to a literacy group. After my blog post yesterday, you probably think we've gone hard-over for Kindle e-books. Nope. We still intend to move over a thousand books to the Great State of Nebraska.

Our current house has a library. It's our favorite room. It's filled with books, family memorabilia, and two over-stuffed chairs. For over thirty years we have bought books whenever we came into the vicinity of a bookstore, especially a used bookstore. My wife and I have different interests so our collection looks eclectic and we each have our favorite categories. When we prepared to move, we separated the house up and took different rooms, but not the library. In this sanctuary we had to go through the books together and each of us had an absolute veto power.

Except that it wasn't just the library. The shelving in that room could easily handle 800 books, but we outgrew it years ago. So when we had an entertainment center built in the family room, we added book shelves along an entire wall. Another 400 or so books. We outgrew this as well. I use a spare bedroom as a writing room and furnished the closet with cheap bookshelves. This collection was mostly nonfiction books I use for research or color in my novels. Before long, the shelves were full and books got stacked on the floor. My wife was perfectly okay with my mess ... as long as I kept the closet doors closed.

This would be easier

It's a wonder we found 300 books to donate to a charity. These discards were mostly fiction we knew we'd never read again or outdated nonfiction. (Okay, some were books we bought with good intentions, but never read.) I kept all of my early twentieth century Westerns and crime mysteries that I had bought for the cover art. My wife kept every cookbook. I kept all of my American history books and biographies. She kept all of her collectable books from some bygone era. Children's books? Nary a one hit the discard bin. Coffee table books? Unreadable narratives, with pretty pictures. Most of these heavy-weights went without a tear.

We pared our books by about a quarter. Before we started, I was sure at least half of them would go. Nothing goes as you expect, but I was enormously relived when this task was done. Then my wife said we needed to do the same with our DVD collection. Oh no. Chick flicks versus Westerns and films that go bang. I guess we're not done with the bickering and snide remarks.

Steve Dancy in Love?

Steve Dancy has had a rocky romantic life in the first three novels. His mother pushed him to marry a young lady who would enhance the family’s wealth and connections, but New York City socialites and socializing bored Steve. In defiance, he sold everything and followed Horace Greeley advice to “Go west, young man.” 




Steve assumed he would observe the frontier and write a great literary classic about the Wild West. He found enough adventure to fill several books and made a few male friends along the way. In his wanderings, he also encountered many different types of women, but Steve argued with every one of them. Needless to say, this was not the best way to strike up a relationship.

Things change in The Return.  Steve remains clumsy with the opposite sex, but even a dunderhead can be successful on occasion. I’d tell you what happens, but why ruin the suspense. You’ll just have to buy a copy and read for yourself.

As for me, I'm leaving the scorching heat of Arizona for Pacific Beach. I'll get in a little surfing between playing with my grandkids, who are flying in from Nebraska. You know, I think my granddaughter is the right age to start bogie boarding. This is gonna be fun.

The First Movie Studio—And a Mea Culpa

Edison's Black Maria, West Orange New Jersey

Edison’s first movie studio was in West Orange, New Jersey. It was nicknamed the Black Maria after the stuffy paddy wagons of the day. According to Wikipedia, “The first films shot at the Black Maria, a tar-paper-covered, dark studio room with a retractable roof, included segments of magic shows, plays, vaudeville performances (with dancers and strongmen), acts from Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, various boxing matches and cockfights, and scantily-clad women.” Let’s see. Edison started the film industry with Westerns, comedy, violence, and soft-porn. Seems that when the movie industry migrated to Hollywood, the moguls in charge adopted the same themes.

This very first studio shows the movie industry's predilection to innovate. Notice that the roof can be lifted to catch the light and the entire building is on a rail to rotate with the sun.

Edison Motion Picture Studio

What was not filmed at Black Maria was The Great Train Robbery mentioned in my last post. The first feature film was actually shot at the Edison Motion Picture Studio in the Bronx, New York City. My error. At the Black Maria, Edison did film acts from Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, so I’ll still award New Jersey honorary Western status.

Speaking of Hollywood, according to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, the movie industry did not leave New York because of the weather.

“Motion Picture Patents Company, also called Movie Trust, Edison Trust, or The Trust, a trust of 10 film producers and distributors who attempted to gain complete control of the motion-picture industry in the United States from 1908 to 1912. The company, which was sometimes called the Movie Trust, possessed most of the available motion-picture patents, especially those of Thomas A. Edison, for camera and projection equipment. It entered into a contract with Eastman Kodak Company, the largest manufacturer of raw film stock, to restrict the supply of film to licensed members of the company.

The company was notorious for enforcing its restrictions by refusing equipment to uncooperative filmmakers and theatre owners and for its attempts to terrorize independent film producers. It limited the length of films to one and two reels (10 to 20 minutes) because movie audiences were believed incapable of enjoying more protracted entertainment. The company also forbade the identification of actors because popular entertainers might demand higher salaries. By 1912, however, the success of European and independent producers and the violent opposition of filmmakers outside the company weakened the Movie Trust, which, in 1917, was dissolved by court order. The Movie Trust, which was based in New York and other cities of the East Coast, was indirectly responsible for the establishment of Hollywood, Calif., as the nation’s film capital, since many independent filmmakers migrated to the latter town to escape the Trust’s restrictive influence in the East.”

Has a Western mash-up ever worked?

I’m not a purist. My own westerns are about miners instead of cowboys, my plots delve into the politics of the frontier, and my protagonist is a wealthy Easterner. I also liked the Lone Ranger, even though it went overboard on special effects and cuteness. I can go off the beaten track and even enjoy oddities like Cormac McCarthy’s weird punctuation. But mash-ups? Where did this fad come from? Mixing diametrically opposed genres is like fusion cuisine where the main course and dessert are lumped together in a stir-fried. It may be an interesting novelty, but it won’t change traditional menus.

I believe a fiction writer’s job is storytelling. It must be done well, with good characterization, but essentially the task at hand is telling a ripping good story. Effective storytelling takes people to another place and time. It can be the Wild West or Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A mash-up tries to take the audience to two different places at two different times. It’s jarring.  Besides, these writers seem more concerned with how clever they can blend the genres, rather than storytelling.

Many Western enthusiasts lament the lack of audience for Western literature and film. Unfortunately, there will be no resurgence by mashing up Westerns with the latest teen craze. It’s not that easy. Intriguing characters with a well-crafted story arc will draw readers to any genre. Just ask Larry McMurtry, Elmer Kelton, Louis L’Amour, Owen Wister, Jack Schaeffer, John Ford, or Clint Eastwood.

Top 10 Western Books

 Reading Cowboy Statue, Azle, Texas

American Cowboy magazine has listed the top 10 Western Books, plus a few also-rans from the same authors. Many of these novels were made into classic films, which shows that good storytelling can be adapted to multiple mediums.

By the way, I searched through the list twice, but never found any of the Steve Dancy Tales. I'm sure this is an oversight that will be corrected in the next list. 

Actually, I believe they compiled a fine Top 10. I've read 8 of the 10 ... an omission I'll correct shortly.

Illustration by Zachary Pullen