On paper Bone Tomahawk sounds downright offensive. It’s a western about a woman kidnapped by Native American inbred troglodytes, and the brave white men who track those evildoers down and try to kill them. If it were made in the 1970s, a film like that would probably have a reputation, and probably not a positive one. This is an ugly concept, but somehow in the hands of writer/director S. Craig Zahler it is not, as it has been made today, an ugly movie.
But it’s an unattractive movie, that’s for sure. Zahler films Bone Tomahawk with an unerring eye for flatness. The simplistic camera angles, sparse production design and sparing use of orchestral score leave the film feeling almost cheap, and almost realistic. In truth it’s probably a bit both. Although the plot is pure grindhouse, the presentation of Bone Tomahawk is artsy to the point of near madness. Meaningful anecdotes about flea circuses are often more important to Zahler than the fact that the characters uttering non sequitors have been kidnapped by inhuman monsters, much to the viewer’s occasional consternation.
This is an approach that’s off-putting at first and then, eventually, almost quaint. Bone Tomahawk takes place in an age of gentlemen, who value the art of speaking properly and doing right by one another. When a drifter brings the troglodyte horde with him to the sleepy town of Bright Hope, the day can only be saved by the sheriff (Kurt Russell, relishing his role), his easily distracted assistant deputy (Richard Jenkins), a pretty boy soldier (Matthew Fox) and a man with a broken tibia (Patrick Wilson), whose wife Samantha (Lili Simmons) has been kidnapped by these monsters.
And it can only be saved in the third act, because Bone Tomahawk spends most of its time letting these men talk to each other as they ride for five days to the troglodytes’ lair. It’s almost a joke just how much tease this is, and it’s difficult to tell until the closing credits – which let loose a comical spaghetti western-inspired song about the events that just transpired – whether Zahler is taking the piss out of the entire western genre or merely the hapless audience.
But it’s the latter, surely. Despite the shameless dehumanization of the villains, Zahler is quick to establish that the only scholar in the town Bright Hope is a Native American. And despite the masculine makeup of our heroes, the women of the film are mostly revealed to be smart, resourceful and respected. The mayor of Bright Hope is a weak man, so when Sheriff Hunt needs something done he speaks directly to the mayor’s strong wife, ignoring the man of title in the room completely.
This, combined with the film’s pervasive loquaciousness, sets Bone Tomahawk apart from much of the western genre. It’s a noble endeavor but it still doesn’t make the film particularly involving. Zahler’s commitment to objective realism, despite his out-there premise, denies the audience the sort of engagement that might have made Bone Tomahawk truly subversive, and truly great. It may be a gag, or it may be for real, but either way it’s never really thrilling as an action movie, a drama or even a comedy.
We are looking at these men on their heroic journey, but we are not with them in spirit. We are too busy regarding them with a quizzical eye and thinking aloud how interesting this movie is to really feel the dramatic weight of any of the events as they transpire. This is what happens when an exciting tale is told with passivity, and while that makes for an interesting experiment it doesn’t make for an especially great film. A film that is merely puzzling will have to do.
Photos: RLJ Entertainment
William Bibbiani (everyone calls him ‘Bibbs’) is Crave’s film content editor and critic. You can hear him every week on The B-Movies Podcast and watch him on the weekly YouTube series Most Craved and What the Flick. Follow his rantings on Twitter at @WilliamBibbiani.
