What distinguishes a good film from a great one? Truly great films speak to real life situations. They tap into the dominant cultural mood and give it definition. Great films rely on superior acting to bring complex multi-dimensional characters to life. These characters, in turn, don’t remain static but develop. Great films tell a story, entertain and educate. They touch our emotions and help us to become better people. Great films also appeal to a broad audience and work at multiple levels. The popular summer blockbuster Transformers was pure escapism, aimed at the teenage male. In contrast Pixar’s Up, while entertaining and technically challenging as an animated 3-D kids’ film, told an emotional story which also resonated with adults.

 

I have been a fan of film since the age of four and a student of film throughout my adult life. However, I had never actually studied film at the undergraduate or graduate level until this year. In January I took a one credit class at Eastern Mennonite Seminary called Media in the Congregation taught by Dr. Jerry Holsopple from EMU’s Visual and Communication Arts department. I poured myself into the textbooks and assignments and thoroughly enjoyed the class.

 

Dr. Holsopple focused on several media trends including the violence of video games, the Centerfold Syndrome, with its myth of beauty, along with gender and racial bias. But those are topics for another day. Today I want to explore “The Western” which he described as “the quintessential American film form.” A dominant theme within the western is the myth of redemptive violence. Nearly every film Clint Eastwood ever starred in or produced fits this type which is perhaps best represented by Pale Rider, where Clint appears on a white horse and fulfills the biblical role of avenging angel. Grand Torino, his most recent film, also fits the type even though it is not set in the west with typical cowboys and gun slingers. Even George Lucas’s Star Wars is a “Western” set in outer space.

 

The outline of each “western” is similar. A hero responds to a call from the town’s people. He, yes the hero is nearly always male, has super-like powers, such as a very fast draw and amazingly accurate aim. He uses those powers, through violent means, to overcome evil, often represented by men who hurt women and children. In the earliest days of the genre, the good guys always wore white hats while the bad guys’ hats were black. It was self evident that the evil men must die. They can never merely be subdued, and rehabilitation or redemption, except for the hero, is out of the question. The hero’s biggest temptation is settling down with the woman he rescues. This is a bad thing because if the hero becomes domesticated he loses his super powers and a domesticated male is incapable of saving the day. It was the domesticated males who called on the hero in the first place. Such men are weak and unappreciated. The women in these films generally need a man to rescue them. They are pure, or at least pure in heart, such as the typical saloon girl or Julia Robert’s character, a prostitute, in Pretty Woman. This myth sets men up to fear women, more specifically becoming domesticated by them.

 

The western is a powerful image in American culture. It often surfaces in media and gets projected onto U.S. foreign policy. We categorized foreign states as good or evil. The only way to solve problems is to use force to kill the evil ones. The two most prominent U.S. presidents who fit the cowboy motif were Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush although others, such as Teddy Roosevelt, fit the stereotype as well.

 

By contrast, in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy we see the antithesis of the hero of the American western. Here we follow a pair of gentle Hobbits who rise up to answer the challenge and save the day, not through violent means but by resisting temptation, relying on their friends and faithfully performing their duty. Some say Frodo’s loyal friend Sam is the real hero in the trilogy. Sam is an everyman. Although we often identify with the Western hero, our lives are more typically like Sam’s. We are just ordinary people. Tolkien teaches us to follow our calling and faithfully fulfill our responsibilities. Thank God for the everyday heroes who unselfishly do their duty and perform extraordinarily.