Pale Rider (1985) Shane (1953)
Recently I rewatched Pale Rider (1985), as the film was drawing to a close I had the realisation that the Clint Eastwood draws many comparisons with George Stevens classic Western – Shane (1953), which borders on a mythic tale. They are both working in the realm of the lone gunfighter, however the beats they touch-upon are the quite similar if not reworked. It can also be argued that Pale Rider is an extension of High Plains Drifter’s ghostly gunfighter. I’ll be using this essay to compare the two films in details, how Eastwood was informed by the earlier film, or if it’s just the conventions of the genre simply repeating themselves.
The savior of the Western during the genre’s fallow years of the 70s into the 1980’s was Clint Eastwood who along with a few fun pastiches later in the decade, he kept the genre alive. He did this because he had the star power and understanding of the genre. His previous Western before Pale Rider (1985); Bronco Billy (1980) was a love letter to the origins the genre that can be found in touring Wild West shows. Rider was a solid return in the same vein as High Plains Drifter (1973), a mystical stranger in the guise of a preacher rides into a mining town that’s in the middle of a war, big business trying to run out the independent small gold miners who feel they have every right to be working the land.
Like the cattlemen of Shane (1953) they work and live close by to one another. When Coy LaHood’s (Richard Dysart) men raid the camp for the umpteenth time some begin to question if they should be carrying on. At least one man decides to give up his claim. The leader of these men Hull Barret (Michael Moriarty) is more resilient than some of the prospectors who needs more encouragement to stay on. Willing to go into town, hoping to avoid LaHood’s Men giving him another beating. Barret is easily another of the cowardly men who isn’t ready to quit, yet lacks the desired strength to defend himself. Joe Starrett (Van Heflin) carries the same traits, but a stronger leader who doesn’t need the extra push.
This is all before we meet Eastwood’s preacher, who remains unnamed which only adds to his mystery, riding in to save the day for Barret is found to behind under his wagon, wanting to getaway without causing a fuss. The Preacher is more than a match for these thugs who can attack the weak but can’t stand up to the god-given violence as delivered through the Preacher. We don’t even know he’s a preacher until he’s invited back to Barret’s homestead. He’s already seen as a hero to the family he’s staying with, it’s the appearance of the dog collar that both surprises and confuses them. Is he heaven sent or a gunfighter who’s also a preacher.
This ambiguity is only increased by the scene of his arrival in camp, edited to timing of Megan Wheeler’s (Sydney Penny) bible reading from the book of Revelations. Seeking help from the good book to see them through the most recent raid that cost the life of her dog.
Megan Wheeler: [Reading from the Book of Revelation] And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the fourth beast said: “Come and see.” And I looked, and behold a pale horse. And his name that sat on him was Death.
[the Preacher rides up on his pale horse]
Megan Wheeler: And Hell followed with him.
The orchestrated arrival suggests that he’s a very dangerous man who can do good depending on the side he chooses. With God on his side (when he first arrives at the dinner table) is he sent to do the Lord’s work via violence, later a six-shooter that’s very easily reloaded. Whenever he talks to the band of prospectors he only speaks his words act to restore their faith, giving them moral and spiritual strength to carry on. It could be suggested that since his arrival at least two of them (on screen) discover gold. These discoveries only add the impetus to stay put.
I’ve only touched on Megan Wheeler who could easily be in place in the role of the admirer and impressionable Joey Starrett (Brandon De Wilde) who looks up to the stranger as a role model. Megan a young woman becomes attracted to the preacher who takes a polite interest in the girl. In Shane there’s the suggestion that Marian (Jean Arthur) the mother becomes attracted to him. The mother in Rider; Sarah (Carrie Snodgress), Megan’s mother, doesn’t have that kind of relationship with the preacher, her relationship with Barrett who wants to do the decent thing by her. Sarah spends the film considering if she wants to marry, not much for the only actress with any real screentime in the film to do. The Preacher’s more than happy to marry them.
Finally I need to touch on the reputation of the Preacher that precedes him when he’s mentioned to travelling Marshall Stockton (John Russell) who thinks he’s met him before, however believing he was dead. The preacher too knows off the Marshall and his 7 men who travel with him. Could Stockton be the man who killed him or know of him in High Plains Drifter (1973), just adding to the mystique of the character. Could Clints character be an avenging angel that uses violence in the name of the righteous – the prospectors who had nothing to really wrong LaHood who wants more land to expand upon and process for gold.
By the close of the film, we’re satisfied by the violence that has been meted out. Finally someone has stood up to the bullies who’ve been running the town. LaHood’s men cowardly run away allowing time to be spent with the silent long coats that follow Stockton, reminding us how well Eastwood can stage a finale that makes the most of the town whilst cleverly falling back on the clichés of the genre.
It’s startlingly clear that Rider is a remake of George Stevens classic Shane in all but name really. Eastwood has even admitted the fact when asked, he did it knowingly in recognition of one of the films he loves. It’s not hard to see why. Taking the classic gunfighter formula and placing it into a small rural setting, yet each scene feels grand against the rugged open landscape that builds up the American myth of conquest.
Steven’s plot relies heavily on his experiences of his time documenting WWII, coming back a changed man, he could no longer direct the comedies he was known for before the outbreak of war. What he saw would stay with him forever. Shane is a more realistic depiction of the West, farmers at war in their own country with cattle men who feel restricted by the once open land being slowly fenced off, water being diverted for use on farms. All part of progress for some, an slight on others. Easily translated to the expanded might of Nazi Germany as it occupied Western Europe for the majority of the war. Here in America the little man could stand up to the odd cattle baron who thought his right was far more than the farmer. Eastwood moved that to prospectors vs. land developers. The characters in Shane are far more confident, willing to stand up to Rufus Ryker (Emile Meyer) and his men. I thought that Joe Starrett (Van Hefflin) was a coward, like his role in 3:10 to Yuma (1957), he’s indeed an equal to Hull Barret. They lead their respective men, raising morale when he needs to keep as many of them together for as long as he can.
I noticed a few knowing nods by Eastwood such as the shared axing of the tree stump by Shane and Starrett is repeated in Rider when the Preacher and Barret work together on a nugget. Both these large objects have left them defeated for years. Together over little under a good working day they finally get the work done. Both times it feels like male bonding, physical exertion that is good for the soul and satisfying to have completed a job that had left them defeated for so long. Whilst in another scene Starrett picks up an axe handle and goes into assist Shane during his fight with Chris Calloway (Ben Johnson). Eastwood instead takes up this blunt instrument once again and fights a group of La Hood’s men. It’s these little nods used in different ways that show how well he understands the film.
The strongest link between the two films is the children – Joey who adores the stranger Shane who rides leaving him in awe of his ideal of manhood. As much as Shane tries to dissuade him of that notion he’s a role model that will stay with him. Whereas and typically of Eastwood he has a teenage girl Megan who too sees the stranger as her first love. Of course Eastwood can’t reciprocate that attraction, she’s too young for him. It’s a rare film where he has no love interest – unless you count God?
We also have the “I’m not a coward figure” – as always played by Elisha Cook Jr. who gets in over his head when he meets Wilson on their second meeting. Even offering to accompany another when the farmers decide to only ride in groups into town. His death scene is overall brutally quick, reflecting the reality of how death can be inflicted with a gun, something Stevens had seen first hand. Not so for Eastwood who decided to make a drawn-out scene when Spider Conway (Doug McGrath) in a drunken state is slowly killed before his sons and the town. He Increases the spectacle that violence can produce for the camera. This is not his mediation of violence – that’s yet to come.
Where Eastwood wants to make Stockton the hired Marshall look more dangerous with seven additional men, Stevens needs only the presence of Jack Wilson (Jack Palance) for the hired gun. Stocktons men reflect the power of big business flexing its muscles – that and there was probably a bigger budget. Jack and Shane don’t have a shared past, Jack’s simply known by reputation to our hero who knows only he must face him in the classic showdown that’s witnessed by Joey which adds to the excitement and plays to the audience Stevens was trying to reach and at the same time educate to not go down a violent path. To see a man skilful in violence doesn’t make him a role model, but one to be feared, not admired. He rides away injured, possibly to die after a fatal injury. The same can’t be said of the Preacher who simply rides off, leaving a god fearing town just as it should be, with the help of a gun.
As a pair of films the explore and both build on the stranger that rides into town narrative. Both equally violent, having their own ways of living with. One who accepts his way of life, the other needs a dog collar to make it acceptable. In terms of Rider being a remake of the Shane it does a decent job of reworking the elements for a new audience whilst being true. Shane could be seen as just another gunfighter who rides in to settle a score, however he chooses to side with the little man, as does the Preacher. I’m just surprised that the narrative hasn’t been remade once more.
Tim Neath - Visual Artist 