The Edge of Civilization
At the turn of the 19th century, the west is becoming tamer. There's little to do in the town of Bright Hope, now that most men have gone off on this year's cattle run, nobody left behind but the Sheriff and a few stragglers.
Not all the west is so domesticated, though. Out there, men murder people in their sleep for some cash, shoot each other under the weakest suspicion, do terrible things. When violent savages kidnap a few of Bright Hope's villagers, the Sheriff – a weathered Kurt Russell – rides out with three people who just couldn't stay behind: his getting-on-years deputy (Richard Jenkins), a victim's crippled husband (Patrick Wilson) and the town's own dapper Indian killer (Matthew Fox). They go against the suggestion of the single man who knows what they're going to face, a native who told them he wouldn't follow them because he didn't want to die. And they ride against the odds, knowing the attackers have a long head start and know their actual destination.
Bone Tomahawk is an honest movie – it doesn't try to be something it isn't just to chase some mass appeal. We don't get enough of those nowadays. Everything in it has that effortless, lived-in quality that must have taken a lot of work to perfect.
Isolated scenes paint a bigger picture: a womanizer stiffening up in the presence of a certain lady, knowing his charms ineffective and unsure of how to act; a married couple cutting cheese and salami for the road, the food high on energy, easy to preserve and consume on a long trip; a widower slowly kneeling at a grave, the simple action taking effort but happy to be visiting.
It's got excellent lines yet it doesn't fall for Tarantino's flashiness – while clever, the delivery never calls attention to itself. Its dialogue comes out like these people have known each other for a while. Through the way they talk, to themselves and each other, we get to know them, too, before it all goes to hell.
Its main achievement, though, is how it displays its brutality. It doesn't take the form that you expect – not at first, at least – and like the dialogue, it's not played for style. There's no choreography, no sacrificing veracity for flair. It happens in an instant. It's over in a flash; most of the time, the victor often decided by sheer meanness. When they don't get it over with, when it lasts, you'd wish it hadn't.
Bone Tomahawk is raw. It's not pure horror and not pure western, but it knows what its thing is, and it does it. It does it damned well.
Originally published on my old blog
#bonetomahawk #scraigzahler #kurtrussell #richardjenkins #patrickwilson #matthewfox