Lonesome Dove — TV mini-series

LONESOME DOVE – Made for TV               B+                  

USA  (384 mi, four 90-minute installments, Pt. 1:  Leaving, Pt. II:  On the Trail, Pt. III:  The Plains, Pt. IV:  Return)  1989  d:  Simon Wincer

Gus, why not go up to Montana? It's a cattleman's paradise to hear Jake tell it.    

—Tommy Lee Jones (Woodrow F. Call)

It ain’t dyin’ I'm talkin’ about…it’s livin’.     —Robert Duvall (Augustus “Gus” McCrae)

This project started out as a Larry McMurtry movie screenplay in 1970, where Peter Bogdanovich was lined up to direct John Wayne (Captain Call), James Stewart (Gus McCrae), and Henry Fonda (Jake Spoon).  But once Wayne dropped out, supposedly at the urging of director John Ford, the rest backed out of the project as well, where eventually the screenplay was expanded to a full length novel which won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 1986.  After director John Huston turned down the project, and Charles Bronson, James Garner, Jon Voight, and even Robert Duvall all turned down the part of Captain Call, it was eventually turned into a television mini-series.  Considered Robert Duvall’s favorite role throughout his entire career, so that’s saying something, but this is a tragic and bittersweet saga, an epic post Civil War adventure that details the colorful interior worlds of the plentiful characters while showcasing spectacular landscapes of the vast American plains, one of the more spectacular TV mini-series to ever play on American television, largely due to the strength of the novelesque writing, adapted from the Larry McMurtry novel, that really documents the life-long friendship between two former Texas Rangers, Duvall as Augustus “Gus” McCrae and Tommy Lee Jones as Woodrow Call, known as the Captain.  While Woodrow is a severe taskmaster, a dour and emotionally distant man who continually undertakes back breaking work, Gus is his polar opposite, claiming that for all the hard work Woodrow does, he has to balance the equation by doing as little work as possible.  Both are stubborn, individualistic, tough as nails, and cantankerous men who have survived when others didn’t, proud bastions of the Old West, experts in their field and living legends of their era who are now already forgotten, having paid their dues and are expected to coast easily into the comforts of retirement.  But both are restless souls, driven by the frontier spirit of living free, and like a bank robber who needs to pull off one last heist, these guys feel the need for one more great adventure, deciding on a whim to run a cattle drive from Lonesome Dove, a tiny border town in South Texas, to Montana, a place they’ve never been, but only heard of, a good 2500 miles away where the Captain believes he’ll be the first rancher to raise cattle in Montana.  It’s a crazy idea that makes no sense, but that’s precisely why they feel compelled to do it.  These are the kind of men that don’t want to ever admit that life got the best of them, continually staring death in the face and standing up to outlaws, thieves, and Indians, providing the kind of moral authority needed in a lawless land, where they also continually needle one another about each other’s supposed deficiencies, where their ongoing running commentary throughout the film is a thing of beauty rarely seen over such an extended period of time, initially shown over four consecutive nights in 90-minute installments.

Duvall is simply magnificent, an enthralling, wise-cracking character in nearly every shot throughout the entire ordeal, a guts and glory kind of guy (also a Captain) with endless stories to tell who literally commands the screen, where his enthusiasm and his zest for life endears him to the audience, continually charming his way into people’s hearts.  But much of the strength of this work lies in such well drawn out characters and the superb cast that brings them to life.  Robert Urich is Jake Spoon, another former Texas Ranger who rode with Gus and the Captain, but one who drifts and continually strays from moral virtue, displaying selfishness, greed, and weakness, allowing himself to get sucked into other people’s dirty business instead of standing up to it.  Diane Lane is Lorena (Lorie), a beautiful saloon girl who’s sick and tired of seeing the same do-nothing faces of the men in Lonesome Dove, a sleepy town where literally nothing ever happens, where she’s the only good thing to happen in the lives of the available men, but she is suffocating on the monotony of the dreary emptiness.  Ricky Schroder is Newt, most likely the Captain’s son, though he’s loathe to admit it, as his mother died years ago, but entering adulthood he’s still kept in the dark about who his real father may be.  Nonetheless he’s a handsome and likeable kid, a bit green under the collar, but game, the kind of guy who would always lend a helping hand.  Chris Cooper plays the good-natured Sheriff July Johnson from Fort Smith, Arkansas, the town where Jake Spoon accidentally kills a man, who turns out to be the Sheriff’s brother, returning back to Lonesome Dove after nearly a decade to ride out the storm hiding among friends.  Goaded by his pregnant wife Elmira (Glenne Headly) to take their young son on the trail as he tracks down Jake Spoon in Texas, Sheriff Johnson is sent on more than one wild goose chase, as after the Sheriff’s departure his wife immediately leaves town in search of the man she really loves, an outlaw named Dee Boot in Ogallala, Nebraska.  Danny Glover is Joshua Deets, a former slave, but also another former Texas Ranger and an expert tracker, one of the few men trusted by the Captain, a guy who affectionately looks after Newt, as seemingly none of the other men do.  And finally, though she doesn’t appear until the third episode, Anjelica Huston is Clara, the love of Gus’s life, the only woman he still pines over though he hasn’t seen her in a decade, a woman of regal stature who remains sassy and independent, refusing Gus’s earlier marriage proposals.   

What’s immediately clear is that the film doesn’t sugar coat history, where the Captain, despite his law abiding standing, sees little conflict when it comes to stealing horses or cattle from Mexicans across the border.  Despite tracking men down for this exact same crime over the course of their entire careers, Mexico is outside the jurisdiction of the United States, so apparently anything outside the law goes, where ironically the entire herd on this legendary drive consists of stolen Mexican cattle.  This reveals the state of mind of Texas Rangers, who had no problem using guns and brute strength to impose their will on others, much like the U.S. Cavalry was doing tracking down the last of the free Indians.  The cattle drive north takes place in 1876 shortly after the death of General Custer, in fact, exactly into the Montana territory of the Little Big Horn where the threat of Indians was everpresent, as Indians had collectively gathered in that region literally to make a last stand against the advancing encroachment of the whites.  While the drive slowly heads north, complete with wind and dust storms, not to mention lightning strikes, Jake has promised Lorie he’d take her to San Francisco, an offer that she leaped at, traveling close to the protection of the cattle men.  But Jake quickly grows tired of the monotony and leaves Lorie alone in search of a card game, where she’s quickly kidnapped by a murderous outlaw Indian named Blue Duck (Frederick Forrest—yes, another white guy in a wig), quickly turning this into a variation of THE SEARCHERS (1956), where Gus goes alone to track her down and bring her back alive.  Like a film within a film, this long and arduous journey coincides with Sheriff Johnson’s fruitless search for Jake and Elmira’s attempted escape north as well, all fraught with difficulties, unexpected horrors, senseless murders, and life threatening situations, where viewers develop a keen sense of how some outlaws, or those beyond the reach of the law, have such a low regard for life itself, routinely killing or brutalizing others for the sheer pleasure of it.  To survive in this vast wilderness outside the safe and supposedly “civilized” confines of the towns and cities required unusual fortitude, expert marksmanship, an ability to survive in the oppressive heat with little to no water, a clear head and a sharp mind, and a kind of fearlessness that doesn’t exist in the ordinary man.  This is what attracts us to a man like Augustus “Gus” McCrae, as despite his warm personal charm, it’s his qualities “outside” the laws of man that make him so endearing, the stuff of myth and legends, where it’s highly appealing to watch this man in action over the course of the entire mini-series.  His adventures carry with it a kind of Greek Odysseus heroicism, as his journey represents places we can only visit in our imaginations.      

Because of the historic setting, just at the time of Custer's last stand, the anxious tone of white settlers continually in fear of unforeseen Indian attacks does accurately represent the state of mind in the West at the time.  Nonetheless, this is hardly an accurate portrayal of Indians, again stereotypically seen as drunk, loco, excessively brutal, and heavily involved in the sex trade of white women (perhaps an idealization of the white male’s biggest fear), or Mexicans, viewed as a lawless nation mixing its citizens among our own, continually projected, along with the Indians, as horribly incompetent shooters, as both groups in the eyes of Texans in particular, are outsider groups known for creating havoc and unwarranted violence in the eyes of whites.  The tone of suspicion bordering on prejudice continues to this day, as Mexicans in Texas and the greater Southwest continue to be portrayed by politicians as illegals, un-American, second class citizens, and a threat to the freedoms of whites.  Unfortunately, this kind of racial perception was largely enhanced by the mythical view of the West, which projected brave men fighting and prevailing against insurmountable odds, where the enemy has been continually dehumanized through newspaper accounts or dime store novels over the course of a hundred years or more so that it has become ingrained and accepted as truth in mainstream American society.  This film makes no attempt to alter the prejudices or misconceptions, but instead uses many of the same deplorable Indian stereotypes seen in nearly all American Western movies, best typified by the great westerns of John Ford.  The real secret of the film’s remarkable success, however, is the strong and endearing characters, so unforgettably placed in the context of American history, making a compelling case for a re-examination of the fundamental principles of American society, many of which were fought over during the Civil War, needing reinforcement in the fragile and potentially vulnerable era afterwards, becoming more solidified over time when justice could finally eradicate the inherent lawlessness of the West.  Perhaps the highpoint of the film is the emotional payoff in the scene of Gus leaving Clara near the end of Pt. III, which is as melodramatic as anything seen in GONE WITH THE WIND (1939), a tearful and sweepingly majestic moment that defines how significant it was for there to be valiant men in the West, men of guts and honor and sacrifice, men who deserve to be loved and revered, not forgotten, as it was their vision of a free land that ultimately prevailed. 

One Lucky Elephant

ONE LUCKY ELEPHANT                 C                    

USA  (84 mi)  2010  d:  Lisa Leeman               Official site             Ahali Elephants

Perhaps we can blame it all on BORN FREE (1966), an adaptation of Joy Adamson's 1960 non-fictional book about raising orphaned lion cubs in Kenya, which may be the first time viewers saw, National Geographic style, wild animals being raised as pets by humans, literally hugging and petting them well into adulthood, getting closer than humans should to wild animals that in a single swipe are capable of mutilating people, including their trainers.  Or more appropriately, what about Jack London and his popular adventure stories Call of the Wild, or White Fang, providing romantic images idealizing animals in the wild?  More recently, in 2003, who can forget the horrible tragedy of Siegfried & Roy, renowned tiger trainers who took their act to Vegas, billing themselves as “Masters of the Impossible,” so sure of themselves that these animals would do them no harm until one of them, an animal trained since he was a cub who had been performing together for six years, suddenly turned on Roy, going for his neck, causing critical neck, head, and brain damage, suffering a stroke and partial paralysis, but fortunately he survived.  Then of course there was FREE WILLY (1993), earning over $150 million dollars, followed by several sequels, an idealized children’s story about returning a performing Sea World Orca whale named Willy back into the ocean.  Compare that to Dawn Brancheau, the Florida Sea World trainer a year ago that was drowned as she was pulled underwater by an Orca killer whale named Tillikum, who has now been involved in the deaths of three persons, but is still performing.  Lest we forget these are wild animals, even when they act tame. 

You won’t find any of that in this film, or the beguiling face of Reese Witherspoon in WATER FOR ELEPHANTS (2011) for that matter, which instead introduces us to David Balding, a likeable enough portly gentleman running a circus in St. Louis, where the star of the show is Flora, a 10,000 pound African elephant that he has raised since she was an infant, developing a personal bond that he believes is much like raising his own daughter.  We see him walking the animal back to his living quarters afterwards, where the police literally stop traffic so Balding can walk him down the middle of the street which certainly invites gawkers and staring onlookers.  He talks to her, pets her, has her do tricks for him, and rewards her with treats when she obeys.  Kids find this kind of thing astonishing at the circus, but after more than a decade performing together, Balding notices the animal has lost its love for performing, leaving him in a quandary—what to do about his animal?  While elephants live for half a century or more, Balding is nearing retirement age, feeling the animal will likely outlive him, so he starts searching for an environment with other elephants, which are largely social animals, hoping to find an elephant sanctuary in Africa.  But despite his best intentions, it’s difficult to find a good home for such a massive animal, where she ends up in a Miami Zoo temporarily until he can find a better alternative, where the intrigue is how Flora will get along with the other elephants, or even if she’ll remember how to be an elephant.  The footage of elephants that we see is quite appealing, where they seem to connect, but we hear later that she acts out and misbehaves, becoming quite aggressive.  Eventually Balding finds an elephant sanctuary in Tennessee which has 2 other African elephants, a jungle like tree canopy and plenty of room to roam, which sounds ideal, but she misbehaves there as well, mangling a steel fortified fence, leading to involuntary isolation. 

But the story soon turns away from Flora, the star of the show, taking an intimate view of the aging Balding instead, who suffers from declining health and now sits in a wheelchair and has difficulty walking, but becomes quite miffed when the sanctuary changes the rules of the game and won’t let him visit his elephant anymore, as they had initially promised, claiming she’s suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, most likely from witnessing the slaughter of her own mother and her herd by poachers when she was initially captured in Africa, leaving her an orphan, developing separation and abandonment issues which they feel is exacerbated by his human presence, thinking instead that she needs to bond with the other elephants.  This does seem like an unsubstantiated and rather pat diagnosis, not shared by the one person in the film who is seen in the most positive and objective light, the elephant trainer at the Pittsburgh Zoo, a man who refused to utilize the harsh and traditionally barbaric methods of inflicting pain to insure dominance during training, where the tagline for the movie turns into:  Will Balding be able to see his elephant again before he dies?— turning this into a rather maudlin subject. 

While the tendency to humanize these animals may be laudable in some circles, making them cute and cuddly, where they resemble children’s stories or fairy tale worlds where humans and wild animals readily mix in a peaceful coexistence, it also calls into question the issue of animal rights, as unless they are injured or harmed, which is how so many animals end up in zoos, aren’t they better off remaining in the wild?  This reminds us how poorly animals in the zoos and the circus are treated, as so many seem to be locked up in cages, hardly the freedom they would otherwise be accustomed to.  The same can be said for performing dolphins, one of the highlights at Sea World, as their synchronized swimming takes one’s breath away, but Richard O'Barry, from the excellent documentary THE COVE (2009), who actually captured and trained the animals used for the Flipper TV Show (1964 – 67), calls into question his own culpability, claiming the show actually turned the dolphins into friendly “aquatic Lassies.”  Going further, he indicates these captive animals perform only because they are terrified, as they are rewarded with food only if they do, becoming one of the leading advocates “against” capturing dolphins.  By the end of this film, however, without really developing the arguments raised, there is too little known about Flora and the Pittsburgh Zoo, too much about Balding, where the word unlucky feels much more appropriate for the film’s title.

Post Script:  In perhaps the ultimate irony, Carol Buckley, the owner and founder of the non for profit Tennessee elephant sanctuary, the one who barred David Balding from ever seeing Flora again due to her belief that it places too much potential trauma on the elephant, as it forces her to relive her original trauma when she does, has been barred from seeing her own elephants, except by appointment, asked to move off the grounds of the sanctuary, and kicked off the sanctuary board by the Board of Directors (Buckley was fired by the organization’s board in March 2010), largely due to her dictatorial management style.  Buckley is suing the Board to have her own rights reinstated (Tennessee Elephant Sanctuary in Custody Fight).  Balding’s response, now 73, “She created this place.  But talk about karma.”