Sometimes a movie sounds interesting based on negative reviews -- by virtue of highly contrary criticisms rather than extreme ones per se. In this case, some say it's too derivative, yet John Wayne refused to work with Clint Eastwood afterward because it's too far removed from traditional westerns. I was not aware of these opinions when I chose to watch; I just knew it was popular overall. In retrospect, neither opinion surprises me. It was an era for experimentation, after all.
The new frontier mining town of Lago is worried about what three outlaws who just finished serving time will do when they return. A mysterious sharpshooter (Eastwood) holds promise for dealing with them, but he acts uninterested in sticking around, until the local authorities agree to give him whatever he wants -- and coerce their neighbors to follow suit. His demands, including literally painting the town red, get increasingly outrageous, to the point that some citizens would rather take their chances without him. But even with his guidance, they're all clearly incompetent shots....
You thought the original Man with No Name was bad, even when designated "The Good"? This one thinks brute-forced sex isn't rape as long as both parties get an apparent charge out of it. And no, he never pays the price for it. In fact, I don't think he gets so much as a scratch from the moment he rides into Lago. It's heavily implied, especially toward the end, that there's a reason for that.
The same possibility would explain why he's so mean to the people who look to him for help. Lago holds a dark secret of which seemingly nobody is innocent. It still doesn't get the Dogville treatment; in the end, there are those who think the gunslinger did more good than harm. Chief among them is Mordecai (Billy Curtis), a put-upon dwarf who gets much better treatment under the new regime. Chief among the opponents is Lewis Belding (Ted Hartley), a hotelier who loses out in multiple ways, but he is among the guiltier parties.
Putting aside the potential fantasy premise, the plot simply has trouble adding up. Some character actions have no obvious method to them. Eastwood reportedly was aware of this weakness and tried to distract from it with style, not least in callbacks to his former directors. That worked slightly for me during my viewing and less so upon reflection.
If there's one thing HPD does better than any other western I've seen, it's the haunting score. I don't mean to say that it's as catchy as an Ennio Morricone, but it is extra eerie. And it doesn't sound any less appropriate for that.
HPD blurs the genre boundaries so much that people have suggested mystery, horror, and comedy for it. That alone might be enough for a recommendation, albeit with a caveat. A film like this isn't for everyone, but it does carry a certain distinction, possibly valuable for cinematic education.
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