if you’re just super cool, and have been hired on this movie (3:10 to Yuma, 1957) probably expressly for some trick-riding. But, man: this is something you don’t see anymore, right? I mean, both that running mount followed by just beating it across the road and the needless showmanship—the kind of celebration of an art that’s not in the public eye so much anymore. This would be an indulgement in today’s westerns. But back then, it was, I suspect, a pretty big part of the reason people might go to a western.
Anyway, 3:10 is a beautifully-written, wonderfully-produced, excellently-acted (I was running out of adverbs) film, no doubt. But right here’s where I stopped and, were it a VHS, risked stretching the tape, just from how many times I cued ahead and then backed up, cued ahead and backed up. In wonder:
is the NYT bestselling author of 30 or so books, +350 stories, some comic books, and all this stuff here. He lives in Boulder, Colorado, and has a few broken-down old trucks, one PhD, and way too many boots. More