The Magnificent Seven

It is ever western fan's duty to watch "The Magnificent Seven" at least once every eighteen months, bitch about Horst Bucholz and the neglect of James Coburn, and of course proclaim how much better Kurasawa's film was and is.

With the recent release of a beautiful DVD including a making-of documentary and an audio commentary track by Coburn, Eli Wallach, producer Mirisch, and AD Robert Relyea, we've all got the perfect excuse to dive in one more time.

The back story of how this film got made is almost as intriguing as the film itself. Featuring wonderful interviews with many of the key players, the documentary describes how "The Magnificent Seven" could very easily have been a film starring Anthony Quinn, written by Walter Bernstein, and directed by Martin Ritt.

Brynner stole the project away from Quinn, who would later sue the producers and lose. Bernstein wrote the first draft, a close interpretation of "The Seven Samaurai" involving not seven gunslingers but rather seven civil war veterans. When Ritt dropped out of the project, Sturges took over and ordered a new script by Walter Newman, which is pretty much what you see on the screen today. Newman in turn, had his name removed from the credits when Mexican censors demanded the script be revised to portray their citizens in a better, more accurate manner. Newman wanted no part of it, and William Roberts ends up with the credit for what many consider to be the most entertaining western ever filmed.

There are all kinds of interesting twists and turns in the documentary which I won't spoil for you. It is one of the finest of its kind, and comes highly recommended. The audio commentary track is less satisfying. Many of the stories from the documentary are repeated, and told less effectively. There are a few gems along the way: Mirisch describing Sturges as the most 'proper' man who ever lived--"he wasn't square, he was cubed;" Coburn eloquently explaining why their film failed to capture the irony and meaning so imbedded in Kurosawa's masterpiece.

As for the film itself, what is left to be said? No matter how ridiculous the concept of Horst Bucholz playing a Mexican halfbreed is, he pulls it off with only slightly excessive flair. It may be Charles Bronson's finest performance. Elmer Bernstein's score is, along with Hermann's "Psycho" theme, the finest in film history. Try not to compare it to "Samaurai"--think of it like The Byrds covering Dylan. Everything simply, works. Just ask Kurasawa, who was a great fan of Hollywood westerns and recognized this to be one of the best.

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