The Hired Hand

THE HIRED HAND        A                

USA  (90 mi)  1971  d:  Peter Fonda

Jesus said, “If those who lead you say to you, ‘See, the kingdom is in heaven,’ then the birds of the heaven will precede you. If they say to you, ‘It is in the sea,’ then the fish will precede you. Rather, the kingdom is within you, and it is without you.”

The disciples said to Jesus, “Tell us how our end will be.”
Jesus said, “Have you then discovered the beginning that you inquire about the end? Where the beginning is, there shall be the end. Blessed is he who shall stand at the beginning, and he shall know the end and not taste death.”

His disciples said to him, “When will the kingdom come?”
Jesus said, “It will not come by expectation. It will not say ‘see here’ or ‘see there.’ But the kingdom of the father is spread upon the earth, and men do not see it.”

—The Gospel of Thomas, Verses 3, 18, and 113

Immediately after Easy Rider (1969), when Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper severed their friendship over a longstanding quarrel over sharing scriptwriting credits (Hopper insisted he wrote it alone) and the enormous profits (Hopper wanted 40% not 33%), eventually settled out of court nearly 30 years later in 1997, Fonda ventured into artistic obscurity in his first directing assignment by making a near wordless, highly visual acid western that was a box office flop, with some critics dismissing it as a hippie western. Way ahead of its time and one of the underrated films of the 70’s, made for less than a million dollars and released years before Terrence Malick’s BADLANDS (1973) or DAYS OF HEAVEN (1978), where acting and extreme artistic visualization takes precedence over plot or narrative, Fonda assembles a brilliant cast and crew, where first and foremost is the stunning cinematography by Vilmos Zsigmond which simply defines the film, as everything is saturated in the beauty of each shot.  His next film shoot was the even more memorable, career defining Robert Altman western McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971).  Frank Mazzola’s stylistic editing and montage shots, seen from the opening, often blending two or three shots into a single image, gives the film an innovative style, supposedly modeled after Nicolas Roeg’s editing scheme in Performance (1970), continually contrasting sharply defined images with a gorgeously flowing impressionism, shot along the Rio Grande in New Mexico where the film has some of the most incredible landscape sunset shots, accentuated by the stark beauty of Bruce Langhorne’s exquisite soundtrack, a virtuoso who plays as many as 58 different instruments himself.  On top of that is Fonda and Warren Oates, fresh off Two-Lane Blacktop (1971), friends working together in their prime as a couple of drifters who ride together through the American Southwest during the 1880’s for seven years before Fonda gets the itch to return home to the wife he left behind.  The hauntingly spare script written by Alan Sharp is beautifully delivered throughout, sharing screen time with prolonged silences, allowing the actors plenty of time to mold their characters, where Verna Bloom as Fonda’s abandoned wife perfectly conveys her mixed emotions with enormous sensitivity. 

Bloom’s character gives this film a surprising feminist sensibility, especially considering she’s nowhere to be seen in the beginning of the film.  But once they make their way back home, she is the heart and soul of the picture, even as Fonda and Oates, together for the first time, dominate the screen time.  She lays down the law upon Fonda’s return, allowing him to stay as the hired hand, sleeping in the barn with his friend, where she doesn’t wish to confuse her 7-year old daughter Janey (Megan Denver) who believes her father is dead. The subject matter examines the role of a woman alone on the frontier, afraid to be taken advantage of by men, but also afraid of being left alone, where the daily struggle to survive emotionally is barely mentioned in westerns which usually favors schoolteachers or whores as the best subjects.  Bloom exerts authority while opening the door just a crack to the thought of beginning anew, where she sets the terms of the relationship, and in doing so, transforms herself into a completely different person.  In wordless sequences, the men work the farm, but their respect for the independence of Fonda’s wife grows, where the lyrically hypnotic music resembles waves of time, creating a feel for time passing without incident, where perhaps these men can succeed in leaving their troubles behind them.  But likely not, as violence has been part of their lives, as it’s an everpresent part of the American West.  These guys don’t go looking for trouble, but it has a way of finding them, where they continually have to stand up for themselves and make life or death moral decisions, the kind with lifelong implications.  Even as Oates decides to venture out on his own, leaving Fonda and Bloom to rediscover what’s left of their marriage, there is an element of foreboding in his farewell. 

Peter Fonda channels the moral virtue of his father in this picture, like Henry Fonda’s resolute portrayal as Wyatt Earp in John Ford’s My Darling Clementine (1946), another morality play set in the burgeoning outlaw criminality of the American frontier. Here the years have sapped Fonda’s optimism and stamina, having endured more than a man can swallow, but his weary resignation allows his co-stars to shine, feeding off his quiet stoicism, giving some of the best performances of their careers, often captured in extended wordless sequences where Fonda often films them in close ups.  Oates is a marvel of minimalism in this picture, a kind and gentle spirit with a streak of wisdom, where there’s never a false note in his delivery.  Bloom describes Oates as the reason Fonda left home seven years before, to find someone like him, where the intrinsic trust between them is an unspoken love, though neither would admit to it, as both are too proud of their own fierce independence, never allowing anyone else to define who they are.  But Bloom has rare insight into the hearts of these men, as she’s been hurt and wounded too many times before, and her endurance will be tested once again, a stand-in for the sacrifice of all the women left behind by men seeking a nobler purpose, many of whom will never be seen again.  Fonda’s filmmaking is assured throughout, often changing speeds, utilizing elaborate dissolves, lamp lit interiors, silhouettes, natural lighting, slow motion, and overlapping still photography to accentuate the slowness of time, as these men travel great distance, expressed in a poetic montage of wordless movement.  The delicate soundtrack is as spare and as quietly affecting as any movie in memory, adding a tinge of melancholic sadness to every frame.  There is a different version released for television in 1973, adding twenty minutes of footage Fonda felt was “extraneous,” but Fonda does not include this material in his final cut, ultimately restored in 2001, where according to editor Mazzola who oversaw the restoration along with sound engineer Richard Portman, he estimates 65% of the original negative was damaged, primarily with streaking and discoloration.  Despite the huge financial success of Easy Rider, this film has hardly ever been seen, and if it were released today, it would be among the best films of the year.