stale popcorn

One of the greatest things about being a film student in college was getting to take classes like “Film Genres”, where you pretty much went to the school theatre once a week to watch movies and then talk about them at the end of class.  Initially, when I registered the exact genre we would be studying was unknown, and me being the huge fan of Wes Craven that I am had hopes of getting to watch some of the best horror from both past and present.  Alas, how disappointed was I when I got my required texts list and it included The Western Reader.  Having never really watched a western, only two people seemed to come to mind: John Wayne and my grandfather, who kind of dressed like a cowboy… plaid shirt, cowboy boots and a wide brim hat.  I loved my grandfather, but the idea of having to study a genre that seemed so completely outdated… it sort of made me regret my decision to register.  Long story short, the class ended up being one of my favorites that semester, and I realized just how much I actually enjoyed the western film.  Plus, I ended up taking “Television Genres” the next semester because of it, and we studied sci-fi and horror so the whole thing kind of worked itself out.

Why the backstory? you ask.  After taking that class I realized that the western had made kind of a resurgence in recent years that I never seemed to notice before.  And while some of the films released in the last decade have been complex, interesting and entertaining, others have been… well, not.  One such film?  2001’s American Outlaws.

The story is one that’s been told a hundred times before: the legend of Jesse James and the James-Younger gang.  Colin Farrell (who was Hollywood’s “it” guy for a span of about three years in the early 2000s) stars as James, and an ensemble of what studio execs obviously expected to be the next up-and-comers (Scott Caan, Ali Larter, Gabriel Macht, and Will McCormack) round out the young cast as those closest to Jesse throughout his early years.

There’s nothing really wrong with the story itself.  It is, after all, a fascinating piece of American history.  You know what isn’t fascinating?  When really good stories get turned into garbage for the sake of trying to make them seem “relevant” to today’s generation.  I get the whole casting thing with Outlaws, I do.  You put people in movies that 12-24 year olds (because they have a lot of disposable income… you know, the money that’s left over after not having to pay for housing or food) want to see.  And in 2001, people really wanted to see a whole lot of Colin Farrell.  Scott Caan and Ali Larter as well (most known for Varsity Blues — Caan went on to do Boiler Room and Gone in Sixty Seconds, while Larter… well, lest we forget Final Destination?  I think not), but Macht and McCormack?  They’ve done about as much since Outlaws as they had prior to.  Which explains why the cast is what is it… a group of barely-known actors with the opportunity to work together in what I’m sure they were told would be the next big summer blockbuster?  Difficult to pass up.  What I really want to know is how the hell the filmmakers got Timothy Dalton to sign up for this crap-fest?  I kind of envision Dalton as being a little above the rock and roll western.

Speaking of, can we talk about the music for a minute?  It’s pretty clear the geniuses in marketing had no idea how to slap a trailer together.  Saliva and Thin Lizzy?  Seriously?  Click Click Boom meets The Boys are Back in Town… Just because your target demographic is under the age of 25 does not mean you’re required to have such literal lyrics.  I’m pretty sure your average fifteen year old could understand that the James-Younger gang are a group of good ol’ boys without having to dredge up a shitty song from 1990 to prove it.

click click boom, motherfucker

Which brings us back to American Outlaws’ biggest issue.  It isn’t really difficult to update an old story if the story is good.  Look at 2007’s The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford.  It didn’t try to make the story more fantastic than it actually was because of the assumption that younger audiences need to see some douche bag steering a horse with the reigns in his teeth so that he can shoot two pistols at once (Farrell) in order to be entertained.  On the contrary, Assassination was subtle, meaningful, and able to stay true to the roots of the James legend.

And, quite frankly, the film that doesn’t have to deal with Kathy Bates going on about how Jesus is telling her it’s okay to bury the railroad men in the back has a slight advantage.