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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0B65RFBP8" rel="nofollow">STRANGE CHARLES BRONSON</a>
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Charles Bronson. Tough. Silent. Rugged....Strange? Charles Bronson, the legendary movie star who helped shape the modern action film in the 1970s and 1980s, wasn't strange. Some of the actor's offbeat films were. A new essay series arrives to look at the unique characters and themes in Bronson's more peculiar films.
One reason "They don't make movies like they used to" is because They Shoot Horses, Don't They? Rather, they don't make mainstream movies like the offbeat 1969 drama. Although powerful and gripping, with outstanding performances by the cast, They Shoot Horses, Don't They? would be far too nihilistic for a wide modern audience. Sure, someone could make a film this melodramatically dark, but don't expect audiences to turn the feature into a big hit like ticket buyers did more than five decades ago.
Dance Away the Inhumanity
They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? isn’t a film about horses. Instead, the feature focuses on humans being treated worse than animals. In the film’s opening, someone shoots a horse that suffers a broken leg, a sad incident, but the shooter intends to end the life of a suffering creature humanly.
The title may imply a tragic western along the lines of John Wayne’s The Shootist (1976). This Sidney Pollack film isn’t an “oater,” as Post-World War I Santa Monica’s seaside location has nothing to do with dusty Arizona or Texas towns. No one rides horses, but the many characters dance.
The film involves a marathon dance contest where desperate partners dance for hours on end, with few breaks and great suffering, to win a $1,500 prize. The Great Depression rages, and some participants have no other options in life. So, these sad strangers come together for a shot at the winner-takes-all prize. They also subject themselves to horrible debasement.
The dance contest promoters have little or no care for the troubled souls putting their health at risk. The dancers are like horses, maltreated horses. Those in charge of the rodeo ride them into the ground, caring not about their lives.
As depressing as They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? is the film provides telling insights into human nature. Amoral people take advantage of the downtrodden, and those with few options in life must go along with the scheme. A longshot, no matter how degrading, brings some chance at financial - and potentially spiritual - renewal.
Critics adored the engrossing film, which rose to “classic new wave cinema” status. The question remains - what compelled audiences to purchase $12 million in tickets to see this dark, downbeat experiment?
They Watch Dramatic Shockers, Didn't They?
A film’s “shock factor” may involve more than excessive violence or adult content. Controversial plots might stun audiences not expecting to see what they encounter, and even a realistic melodrama could leave audiences uneasy. Since the film’s controversy comes from human drama and not exploitation, a larger audience might be willing to explore the film. The chances for such a ticket-selling outcome were likely much greater in 1969 than today. Movies were mostly G and PG-rated affairs, at least since the end of the pre-code days.
Younger persons forget that the average home had only four to six television channels, and network and local standards and practices kept things mostly at or below PG levels. Content could be controversial, but nihilism wasn’t typical network broadcast material - unless the networks chose to broadcast an edited version of a successful and controversial motion picture. Viewing an uncut version required visiting the theater. The controversy created curiosity, and audiences would pay to see downbeat films. At least they were more inclined to do so in the 1960s and 1970s.
Please check out my collection of essays on Amazon Kindle - Universal Monsters and Neurotics: Children of the Night and Their Hang-Ups.
Please check out my new Kindle/Kindle Unlimited collection of essays, now available on Amazon. Time to look at the Universal Monsters of the Golden Age from a unique psychological perspective!
![Universal Monsters & Neurotics: Children of the Night and Their Hang-Ups by [Anthony M. Caro]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/41p32SUE79L.jpg)
One of the more unique and bittersweet biographies available in print and Kindle is the outstanding Jan-Michael Vincent Edge of Greatness by David Grove. Much like the brilliant look at the last few years of Groucho Marx in Raised Eyebrows, this bio paints a unique and intriguing, poignant, and somewhat sad portrait of the talented actor. Unlike Raised Eyebrows, Grove's work doesn't focus on a period of a few short years. The book covers the entire life of the great and underappreciated actor.
And Jan-Michael Vincent was simultaneously brilliant and underappreciated. Most well-known for his brilliant portrayal of the hitman apprentice appearing alongside Charles Bronson in the original The Mechanic (1972), the Disney hit The World's Greatest Athlete (1973), along with the cult television series Airwolf (1984 - 1986), Vincent appeared in a host of other memorable television programs and television movies and a few forgotten classic films of the 1970s. (How many Generation X members recall a young Jan-Michael Vincent on the "Danger Island" episodes of The Banana Splits Show )
Jan-Michael Vincent garnered a few starring roles, but he never broke through to major stardom. Grove's book -- published by Bear Manor Media -- points out that Vincent never had a major box office hit outside of his Disney vehicle and the 1977 cult hit White Line Fever. The latter film owed its success to the CB/trucker movie fad. The actor gained no major star momentum from either hit.
It may be added that bouncing between cinematic releases and guest appearances on television likely over-exposed him. Appearances on prime-time television crime shows probably undermined his chances at more prominent roles in major studio movies.
Vincent also tended to select some truly obtuse films to appear in. These movies' lack of box office success did little to keep his career on an upwards trajectory.
Grove's book is worthwhile reading for anyone who fondly remembers Jan-Michael Vincent's memorable work in the 1970s and 1980s, but be forewarned: the tale is not always the happiest one.
Raising social consciousness is commonly cited as the motivation behind crafting a classic film such as 1932's I Am A Fugitive From A Chain Gang. The theme of freedom is prominent throughout the film. Paul Muni's brilliant portrayal of a down-on-his-luck wanderer named James Allen consistently discusses man's desire to be free.
The Freedom Theme
Allen becomes a drifter because he wants to be free of his dull home life. Drafted into the army only to be discharged to face the monotony of a factory job, Allen makes his way across the country only to lose his freedom again after being falsely convicted of a crime and ending up serving his sentence on a brutal chain gang.
Escaping from the chain gang offers a brief respite of freedom and a new lease on life. And then he is trapped in a loveless marriage. Upon freeing himself from the union, he finds himself back on the chain gang.
Freedom, it seems, only comes and goes.
Or is, as the title self-aware computer of the sci-fi classic Colossus: The Forbin Project assesses, "Freedom is an illusion."
For James Allen, freedom is fleeting to the point it barely exists. Likely, for him, it never exists. He reinvents himself numerous times to achieve a level of personal and outright physical freedom. He changes jobs, changes his lot in life through a prison escape, changes his identity, and so on.
Freedom never arrives for James Allen because, although circumstances change, Allen never really changes. He is the symbolic ball and chain, which is tied to a literal ball and chain.
Chained to Unchanging Circumstances
Was James Allen predestined to be a prisoner both literally and figuratively? Based on his life, as seen in the film, this good, moral, virtuous man never changes. He remains the same individual from scene to scene, and he suffers greatly no matter what backdrop he is placed on.
James Allen's life on the outside of the chain gang mimics what life was like on the inside. And no, the notion of freedom is an illusion. There is a sameness to things. Allen tries to make changes in his life. Looking for a new job is less melodramatic than an escape from prison.
The ultimate sameness is James Allen himself.
*****
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*****
Allen simply cannot catch the proverbial break. No matter what circumstances the man finds himself in, things never work out well for him. The narrative of I Am A Fugitive From A Chain Gang consistently features ever-changing backdrops.
This is why life is so difficult for the man. He cannot fit well into any of the new lives he places himself or lands.
In a tragic sense of irony, James Allen finally does change in the film's final minutes - he loses his morality and virtue, allowing him to better fit into the backdrop of a fugitive.
The film should have done better, much better. The $21 million budget (more than what Star Wars cost!) would make Sorcerer a likely money loser. $50 million or so would be needed to break even. Earning $25 would lead to a loss. The losses obviously would be less than the case with $5 million in U.S. theaters, which the picture earned.
The failure is stunning considering Sorcerer was directed by William Friedkin, riding high with The French Connection and The Exorcist. Star Roy Scheider was coming off the success of JAWS.
Marketing -- poor marketing -- probably was the culprit that did Sorcerer in. The film received mediocre reviews, which definitely didn't help. Better marketing connecting the film to Friedkin and Scheider's other successes probably would have lent a box office assist.
The trouble with marketing Sorcerer is you need to stress that the movie is not about magic and fantasy. Yeah, the genre-jumbled title really worked against this 1970s classic.
