PG-13 | 1h 59min | Western | 1990
A character in Australian director Simon Wincer’s Western, set in 19th-century Australia, salutes its pretty landscapes: “They say God made Australia last ... after he got tired of making everything else the same.” Mr. Wincer’s tale may be about America’s foundational values and the transcendental values of truth and goodness, but his camera dwells on beauty, too. More on beauty in a moment.
American sharpshooter-for-hire Mathew Quigley (Tom Selleck) travels all the way from Wyoming to Western Australia. He’s heading to Australian rancher Elliott Marston’s (Alan Rickman) outpost; Marston’s newspaper ad called for the “finest long-distance marksman in the world.” At the Australian port, Quigley rescues petite, but fierce, and seemingly half-crazy American “Crazy Cora” (Laura San Giacomo) from Marston’s thugs. She tags along to Marston’s ranch, apparently mistaking Quigley for her estranged American husband, Roy.
But Marston’s a racist, wanting Quigley’s marksmanship to wipe out local Aborigines, undisturbed by complicit colonial British military officers.
Quigley’s no ordinary gun for hire; he’ll fire only to protect or defend his highest values: freedom, truth, honor, equality, respect. Furious at Marston’s genocidal plan, Quigley starts an all-out war, but Marston’s men wallop and leave him and Cora for dead in the desert. Then, the two gutsy Americans hit back. Quigley’s long-range rifle becomes the heart of his stand against the cowardly Marston, while Cora shelters an aboriginal infant from becoming a casualty in Marston’s massacre.
Aided by Basil Poledouris’s expansive score, Mr. Wincer’s extra-long shots linger on the handsome and beautiful: oxen-drawn wagon against Australian wild country, Quigley racing on horseback near the ocean and up hillocks, and the Aborigines on home turf, with their ancient traditions of music, dance, and medicine.
Nearly a foot-and-a-half taller than the diminutive Ms. Giacomo, the 6-foot-4-inch Mr. Selleck, with his mane of hair, bushy eyebrows, fiery eyes, brick-thick full mustache, and soul-patch beard, looks every bit the lion with whiskers. Rickman, for his part, uses his gorgeous voice as a weapon, breathing mock charm one minute, menace the next.
Quigley prefers a rifle; he’s repeatedly offered a revolver but declines. When barrels and bullets from rivals outnumber his, he’s slow and vulnerable. Yet his aim is steady and his accuracy sure; distance and surprise are his shields. His Sharps rifle is like a character by itself. The collective gasp from Marston and men when they first spot it is so audible that it’s like they’ve said something.
Valor Behind Values
Mr. Wincer makes no secret of the flag he imagines Quigley flying, even in far-off Australia. Cameras repeatedly close in on that red bandana, those blue denims, and that white hat. Hustlers trying to squeeze a dime off those embarking at port take one look at Quigley and crow, “A gentleman from the land of the free and the home of the brave.”Marston brags, “Some men are born in the wrong century. I think I was born on the wrong continent.” Quigley rebukes implications that Marston’s skill with his beloved American-made Colt revolver somehow makes him American. For all his prowess with guns, Quigley’s actions clarify that his Americanism lies in the values and vulnerabilities that he protects and defends, anywhere and everywhere. Precisely why it doesn’t matter whether he’s in Dodge City or Wyoming (or Fremantle, Australia). Or whether he wields a rifle or a revolver.
In a sense, Quigley and his long-range weapon of choice are symbols of the reach and influence of America’s foundational values, and their impact far beyond its shores. Mr. Wincer is suggesting that, if borne on righteous shoulders, the best of Americanism can hit anyone or anything inimical to these values even a world away.
Crucially, Quigley’s masculinity lies in his manner; parrying a burly man like him who’s trying to hurry a little old lady off the ship. Later, pondering a decision, he asks Cora for her opinion. Used to mistreatment from men like the mistakenly macho Marston, she’s shocked enough to lean back, throw her head skywards and laugh at Quigley, “You’re the only man on this continent that would ask me what I think!”
