The Left-Handed Gun

Time has been kind to Arthur Penn's first feature. Dismissed upon release, The Left-Handed Gun is now considered by many to be a minor classic.

Paul Newman's portrayal of Billy the Kid is the reason people still watch the film, and it is without doubt a commanding performance. Inside the Actor's Studio revealed Newman's own displeasure with his performance, suggesting he did "too much." At best, it is one of the finest examples of method-acting the genre has ever produced; at worst it is one of the finest Marlon Brando impressions any actor has ever produced.

The Bill Bonney presented here is a tortured soul-a moody idealist with the quickest draw in town. He believes in an eye for an eye, and is single-minded to the extreme. Newman is confident and powerful in presenting the passionate side of The Kid, but seems less at ease with the moments during which calmness prevails. When he was dancing or screaming or shooting or seducing, I believed I was watching Billy the Kid. When the weight of the world comes down, when he is too tired and lost to feel passion, I believed I was watching someone else do the thinking for Billy the Kid. Much of the blame must fall on the melodramatic, uneven script, but I do believe Newman's own "acting" agenda interfered with his character's agenda.

The climactic death scene is perfect. I think I rank this death number two behind my all-time favourite: Kirk Douglas in Detective Story.

Arthur Penn shows flashes of the brilliance that would dominate his later work. He is not afraid to employ camera devices, and does so to great story-telling effect. The editing style features constant dissolves and frequent fades-to-black, emphasizing the transitory, unpredictable nature of the main character.

The concept of placing a rebel-without-a-cause type performance into a western is novel, but I don't think you can change one aspect of a film without it affecting the others. With the exception of a lovely scene early on in which Newman confronts his two buddies in a bathroom, the other performances in the film do not offer a similar level of intensity. There is no Sal Mineo to counter James Dean, nor a Karl Malden to balance Marlon Brando. In fact, the director seems to have toned down the other performances, in particular the character of Pat Garrett, in order to create a greater contrast between Billy and the rest of the world. This results in not only the character's detachment from the others (as intended), but also the character's detachment from the entire film, which is never a good thing. A recent example of this phenomenon can be seen in Al Pacino's Scent of a Woman, in which his character would be fascinating in another film, but feels awkward and contrived in the world in which he has been placed.

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