Though after The Hours I was pretty sure that I'd endured enough Ed Harris for a lifetime, I walked to the movie theater last night for the nine forty-five show of Appaloosa. The structure of the movie is fairly conventional; what makes it interesting is the characters. Harris plays a steely fellow who gets all flustered and giggly when he meets an attractive woman. The woman, a total slut, doesn't deserve him, but who else would shack up with a guy whose profession places a bullseye in the middle of his chest?
The images are beautiful, and the use of triangular compositions beautifully complements the movie's propulsive trinitarian dynamic.
Harris is excellent; Mortensen is fine, in spite of quite absurd facial hair; Zellweger is atrocious, as always; Irons is good; Spall is out of place (like Cleese in Silverado, a movie I quite like).
NB: This movie fails the Bechdel test.
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