The Westerns of Paul Newman
Nearly 15 years after his passing, Paul Newman continues to have significant meaning to many. Celebrity, philanthropist, born again boy racer and family man, but to many — myself included — Paul Newman will always be a western star.
Four years on from his debut feature The Silver Chalice, Newman first donned a Stetson in The Left Handed Gun (1958) as William Bonney, better known as Billy the Kid. Overlooking the titles inaccuracy (Billy the Kid wasn’t left-handed) Newman plays Bonney as an energetic and misunderstood gunslinger whose fate was always destined for tragedy. The story of Billy the Kid is a recycled one throughout Hollywood. Roy Rodgers played the western rebel (as well as his lookalike deputy sheriff) in Billy the Kid Returns (1938) two decades before Newman’s interpretation and Sam Peckinpah teased out the final days of the outlaw, much more violently than The Left Handed Gun — in Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (1973) with James Coburn and Kris Kristoffersen.
Having befriended cattle boss John Tunstall (referred to as ‘The Englishman’) Newman flips Bonney’s tame innocence and yearning for a straight life into a changed, fiery hot-headed killer when Tunstall is murdered by rival cattlemen, as Newman sets out to avenge the death of his mentor. On the road for revenge the film explores the real-life relationship between Bonney and lawman Pat Garrett — played by John Dehner — with all of its complexities which is ultimately shattered with deadly consequences as Newman’s now faltering, immature, self-centred cowboy steps outside the boundaries of both friendship and law one too many a time. Though little law and order is administered in the Old West.
The lead role of Billy the Kid didn’t prove to be life changing for Newman. It was a different film released the same year — The Long, Hot Summer — that had a significant impact on him both professionally and personally. Newman met his second wife, Joanne Woodward during filming and it was the non-western picture that made Newman a more recognisable name as The Long, Hot Summer proved a hit with audiences where The Left Handed Gun hadn’t, proving to be a box office bomb.
It was a challenging shoot all round for Newman, as off camera during the production he visited a psychiatrist due to the emotional pain he was experiencing following the breakdown of his first marriage. The films poor reception critically upon release was largely aimed towards the casting of Newman. It was widely felt that that Newman was too old to play the role of 18-year-old Billy the Kid, Newman being a youthful 33 at the time of filming. The Left Handed Gun had actually been a potential vehicle for James Dean two years earlier before his premature passing.
Although the film was less than appreciated when released, there is much to admire. For trivia obsessed cinephiles, the movie features the first ever shooting of a character in slow motion to come out of a movie made in the United States. Newman is convincing as William Bonney, being a lovable layabout capable of implosion at any turn as the reality of the infamous outlaw, Billy the Kid is far removed from the fiction reported in books and newspapers of the time, as shown in the film.
It would be five years until the second western in Paul Newman’s filmography hit screens, as he starred in a much more modern western, Hud (1963).
In Hud, Newman plays the title character — a selfish, egotistical and alcoholic rancher who is in constant conflict with his father on their family ranch. Newman is at his devilish best in Hud as he radiates villainy — a vastly different role from that of anti-hero Billy the Kid. Newman’s character places himself on a pedestal, looking down on others and challenging the system at every opportunity as he airs objections to the law, family and foes — a cowboy with a grudge against life in a modernising landscape with the responsibility of his brother’s death looming over him, disguised by alcohol and questionable behaviour, driving a wedge between both his father and his son (the son played by Brandon deWilde who had become a child star a decade earlier in Shane), neither of whom he shows love or compassion towards.
Hud’s father — Homer Bannon — played stoically by Melvyn Douglas in an Oscar winning role (Newman received his second Academy Award nomination for Hud, two years after The Hustler) perfectly delivers an unsettling monologue that captures the tone of Newman’s performance: “You don’t care about people Hud. You don’t give a damn about ’em. Oh, you got all that charm goin’ for ya. And it makes the youngsters want to be like ya. That’s the shame of it because you don’t value anything. You don’t respect nothing. You keep no check on your appetites at all. You live just for yourself. And that makes you not fit to live with.”
It’s that “charm” Newman delivers that makes Hud sympathetic, even likeable when there there’s nothing admirable in the characters actions throughout the film as the audience is left captivated by Newman — rooting for a loser. Newman’s radiated charm and cool persona influenced many younger filmgoers to idolise Hud and view him as a hero, which left Newman shocked as he’d played Hud as a villain. Not only did the character of Hud find an unlikely popularity with a younger generation, it’s the same film that made Newman popular amongst female fans. Newman retorted on the making of the movie: “Women were literally trying to climb through the transoms at the motel where I stayed.”
Just a year after Hud was released, Newman starred in his third western — The Outrage (1964). This was somewhat of a departure for Newman, as The Outrage is the first in the method actor’s filmography where he was required to speak with an accent. The Ohio native fully immersing himself as — Juan Carrasco — a Mexican bandit. It’s a little known westen set in the 1870’s that centres around a murder trial. It’s an elusive film to find nowadays, rather in the background of the great westerns of its era. Starring Newman — The Outrage also features Laurence Harvey, Claire Bloom and a certain William Shatner, before he found fame as Captain Kirk on both television and film in Star Trek.
The two westerns that followed for Newman at the end of the decade are far less elusive and far more memorable amongst both purists and casual fans of the genre. The first of which again saw Newman play the title role, this time in Hombre (1967). In Hombre, Newman (John ‘Hombre’ Russell) is the one man who can save his fellow stagecoach passengers when they are set upon by outlaws — led by Richard Boone — as the people Newman vows to protect are forced to overcome their earlier prejudice, having learnt that Newman was raised by Apache’s on an Indian reservation.
The movie proved a hit amongst both general audiences and critics, with the tagline reading: “Hombre means MAN… Paul Newman is HOMBRE!”
One such critic that looked upon Hombre with favour at the time of its release was influential journalist, Roger Ebert, who hadn’t long been writing reviews for the Chicago Sun-Times. Ebert wrote: “Just because the ingredients are familiar, however, doesn’t mean ‘Hombre’ isn’t an absorbing, suspenseful film. Indeed, Hollywood seems at its best when it returns to its traditions, and nothing is more Hollywood than the big, socially significant western.”
There’s no doubt that Paul Newman dominates every inch of the screen in Hombre, particularly when he’s receiving competition in scenery chewing from Richard Boone. As Newman convincingly portrays his character in both Native American and Caucasian form with a certain steely purpose, somewhat reminiscent of Charles Bronson.
The climax of Hombre is one of the most suspenseful finishes to a western there is to witness with a deadly showdown for the ages, but not to be outdone, Newman goes one better in his next western, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969). Though the film is famous for its dramatic freeze frame ending, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is notable for a variety of reasons. It’s arguably Newman’s most famous role (Although that could be strongly debated) as he plays Butch Cassidy opposite Robert Redford playing the Sundance Kid. The pair have a timeless chemistry on screen — the first of two collaborations, The Sting followed in 1973 — as they comedically convey the two infamous outlaws on the run from a posse of hired guns as a multitude of bank and train robberies see them flee with accomplice, Etta Place (Katharine Ross) to Bolivia.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid out grossed both The Love Bug and Midnight Cowboy to become the highest grossing film of 1969. To top it off the film also won a record nine BAFTA’s — a record that remains to this day. The film won best picture, best actor for Robert Redford (Newman was nominated in the same category), best actress — Katharine Ross, best director for George Roy Hill, as well as best screenplay, cinematography, film editing, sound, and score.
Featuring an array of memorable montages, the film best displayed both Newman and Redford’s A-list acting quality, catapulting the latter to stardom. They ride high as one of Hollywood’s best on-screen bromances, with the double team of Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt in 2019’s Once Upon a time… In Hollywood, managing to outpour a similar dynamic chemistry, the only combination to get close in recent years.
From “boy I’ve got vision and the rest of the world wears bifocals” to “for a minute there I thought we were in trouble” there’s non-stop quotable lines in William Goldman’s page turning script. Goldman noted that his original script was titled “The Sundance Kid and Butch Cassidy” when Steve McQueen was initially attached to the project (with Newman playing the opposite role of Sundance) and only flipped the title when Redford was cast, leaving the way clear for Newman to play the lead of Butch Cassidy.
The movie left such a mark on Newman, that when it came to his philanthropy work — Newman named his charity for children with serious medical conditions the Hole in the Wall Camp, the name of Cassidy’s gang in the film. In reality the name of Butch Cassidy’s band of misfits was called The Wild Bunch, but due to a western of the same name being released in the same year, directed by Sam Peckinpah and starring William Holden, the name was changed in the movie to the Hole in the Wall Gang.
The 1970’s would be Newman’s final year working within the confines of the western genre, which considering he would go onto appear in films for another three decades does feel somewhat premature. Two of Newman’s three final westerns were released in 1972, the first of which was Pocket Money — alongside Lee Marvin.
Much like The Outrage, it’s a somewhat forgotten western — which is a shame as the partnership of Newman and Marvin promised a lot, but perhaps audiences were left pining for Redford and the quality of Butch and Sundance? In Pocket Money, Newman plays — Jim Kane — an honest cowboy who gets mixed up with an old friend and rancher, Leonard — Marvin — and his questionable schemes, aspiring to get-rich quick.
Like Hud, Pocket Money was a modern western set in the present day — the Western that followed for Newman was a throwback to the myth of the Old West, The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean (1972). The picture is loosely based on the real life trials and tribulations of saloon-keeper and judicial officer, Roy Bean. An openly mythical western, the wording painted over the first frames of the film declare: “Near the turn of the last century the Pecos River marked the boundaries of civilization in western Texas. West of the Pecos there was no law, no order, and only bad men and rattlesnakes lived there… Maybe this isn’t the way it was… it’s the way it should have been.”
It’s a bit of a departure for the full bearded Newman who fully embraces everything undignified in man, as he acts as judge, jury and executioner — as almost every decision he makes is in honour of his long-lost sweetheart, miss Lily Langtry — played by Ava Gardner who is a constant presence in the film despite only being in a handful of scenes as the screen time is dominated by Newman.
The film received its fair share of negative reviews upon its release and Roger Ebert’s take on the film proved to be no different. He wrote: “’The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean’ sets out to be an elegy to the passing of the Old West, and ends up being an elegy to the passing of bad manners. There’s a rough pattern to the film; the more original characters get killed, the less lynching, belching and passing of wind there is. Finally, we are left with a Technicolor vision of Ava Gardner wandering through the ruins of the frontier, and we’re supposed to get misty eyed, I guess.”
“The movie’s hero, Roy Bean, is an outlaw who establishes justice single-handedly by naming himself judge and killing most everybody else in West Texas. Then he goes into business as a saloon owner, brothel operator and retailer of beans. He makes a specialty of stringing up wayward strangers who might have some money on them, and thus accumulates capital and becomes a modestly wealthy man. During all this time, he says little or nothing of interest, but because he founded the place and condemned dozens of people to death, he is considered a character. But by whom? By the movie and its makers, John Huston and screenwriter John Milius. They neglect to make him a character for us, however, depending too much on Paul Newman’s charm and the script’s whimsy. It’s an incredible lapse in a movie of this size and ambition — but they’ve failed to make Judge Roy Bean interesting. He’s one-dimensional, predictable, propped up by Paul Newman’s acting style, with no personality of his own.”
It’s unfortunate that Ebert was unable to enjoy the movie because it certainly would have been worthy of a reappraisal, particularly with the number of re-reviews that Ebert conducted over the course of his lengthy and distinguished career in film criticism. It’s a western to be enjoyed for Newman’s eccentricity and range as a performer (not to mention his camaraderie with an alcoholic grizzly bear… yes, you read that correctly) as director, John Huston gave him the freedom to do so. It’s a remarkable film, forever imprinted on the western genre. The landscape might have been very different for the film, originally intended for Lee Marvin in the starring role as he was offered the script on the set of Pocket Money — with a healthier appetite, Newman won the role.
Paul Newman’s final western came four years later — Buffalo Bill and the Indians, or Sitting Bull’s History Lesson (1976). Again, this film is loosely based on a real-life figure — Buffalo Bill — as Newman plays him as a cynical entertainer in his very own Wild West show, reimagining history as he sees fit. (1980’s Bronco Billy directed by fellow western star, Clint Eastwood would make an interesting companion piece)
It’s a revisionist western and the most metaphorical of all the westerns that Newman made, lifting the lid on the dual personality of the public extroverted performance and introverted private moments truer to one’s real character.
The film was initially going to be a re-teaming of Newman and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid director, George Roy Hill before the latter lost interest. Perhaps it’s easily said in hindsight, but you can’t help but feel that had Roy Hill sat in the directors’ chair, he would have provided a certain energy that the film lacks. For all its qualities it does feel as if Newman is dawdling on his way out in this one, not capturing the same sentimentality that John Wayne managed in The Shootist (1976) or packing the same punch that Clint Eastwood did with Unforgiven (1992) in their respective final westerns.
Though it did little for me, it’s said to be one of Newman’s most enjoyable films. Whether he knew it would be his last Western is unknown — it’s our loss that we never got to see a late stage, Newman western.
Sure, he’ll have won his Academy Award for The Color of Money, reached notoriety for The Long, Hot Summer and The Hustler, and he will always be Cool Hand Luke. But Paul Newman will forever be engrained as a western star.
