Adapted from a Louis L'Amour book and made for television by HBO back when it was still trying to define itself as something other than "that movie channel on cable", The Quick and the Dead is a tale of independence, revenge, forbidden romance and the brutal truth of survival in the Wild West. It contrasts the larger-than-life persona of the frontiersman with the understated character of the settler and grapples with what it means to be an honorable man in a lawless land. Highlighted by a charismatic performance from Sam Elliott, as if there's any other kind, and an old fashioned plot that cares more about making sense than rushing from one scene to the next, this film is proof that great Westerns are always being made. People just aren't always paying attention.
Duncan McKaskel (Tom Conti) is a Civil War veteran who came out of the horrors of Gettysburg with a loathing for violence. With his handsome wife (Kate Capshaw) and young son (Kenny Morrison), Duncan is leading his family into the Wyoming territory to make a new life for them all. In the middle of almost nowhere, the McKaskels run afoul of a gang of worthless toughs led by the smart but lazily evil Doc Shabitt (Matt Clark). Only the assistance of a traveling gunman named Con Vallian (Sam Elliott) saves the McKaskel's from an early death and helps them flee across the wilderness with Shabitt and his men in pursuit. But Vallian isn't motivated by the pureness of his heart. He only got involved to kill a half-breed (Patrick Kilpatrick) riding with Shabitt and has his eyes on Duncan's wife.
There's really only two complaints you can make about The Quick and the Dead. Since most of the movie sees Shabitt's gang getting killed one at a time, there's never that much sense of external danger to the McKaskels and Vallian. And the make-up applied to Patrick Kilpatrick to pass him off as an Indian instead gives him the look of an Oompaloompa with gigantism. Con Vallian is supposed to be a half-breed too, but they didn't slap a bunch of goop on Sam Elliott's face. Perhaps they should have simply found an actor who looked slightly less white than a guy named Patrick Kilpatrick.
Other than that, this is a fine motion picture. The lack of external threat is more than compensated for by the internal dynamic between the McKaskels and Vallian. First, it establishes that Vallian is basically using this family for his own ends, distracting Shabitt and his gang so Vallian has a shot at the half-breed. It gives an edge to Vallian's presence as a challenge to Duncan as a man, as a hero to his son an a potential lover to his wife. The conflict between those two men is at the heart of this story and the scales aren't tipped to one side or the other. Duncan isn't presented as a hapless sad sack. He's a brave and admirable man who's out of his depth and knows it.
Indeed, there's a good bit of this that plays like a romance novel where the woman is caught between the good man she married and the mysterious bad boy who rides into their lives and it's how Vallian handles that situation that truly reveals whether he's a hero or a villain. And it's all handled with a minimal amount of melodrama because there's no room for that stuff in the hard land of 1876 Wyoming. This isn't about Duncan or Vallian being the better man. It's about people who have enough respect for each other to not let their emotions overwhelm them.
The Quick and the Dead makes you wish Sam Elliott had been born several decades earlier so he could have made dozens and dozens of Westerns at the peak of the genre's popularity. Tom Conti is no slouch, though. He endows Duncan McKaskel with a strength that isn't as ostentatious as Vallian's but is ever present. Matt Clark is an effective villain who finds himself undone by his commitment to his own villainy and Kate Capshaw is quite good as a woman growing into the expanded role both allowed and demanded of her by the frontier.
This is a quality Western. Yes, it does look and feel like a TV move instead of a big screen product but don't hold that against it. You won't regret slowing down to watch The Quick and the Dead.
Duncan McKaskel (Tom Conti) is a Civil War veteran who came out of the horrors of Gettysburg with a loathing for violence. With his handsome wife (Kate Capshaw) and young son (Kenny Morrison), Duncan is leading his family into the Wyoming territory to make a new life for them all. In the middle of almost nowhere, the McKaskels run afoul of a gang of worthless toughs led by the smart but lazily evil Doc Shabitt (Matt Clark). Only the assistance of a traveling gunman named Con Vallian (Sam Elliott) saves the McKaskel's from an early death and helps them flee across the wilderness with Shabitt and his men in pursuit. But Vallian isn't motivated by the pureness of his heart. He only got involved to kill a half-breed (Patrick Kilpatrick) riding with Shabitt and has his eyes on Duncan's wife.
There's really only two complaints you can make about The Quick and the Dead. Since most of the movie sees Shabitt's gang getting killed one at a time, there's never that much sense of external danger to the McKaskels and Vallian. And the make-up applied to Patrick Kilpatrick to pass him off as an Indian instead gives him the look of an Oompaloompa with gigantism. Con Vallian is supposed to be a half-breed too, but they didn't slap a bunch of goop on Sam Elliott's face. Perhaps they should have simply found an actor who looked slightly less white than a guy named Patrick Kilpatrick.
Other than that, this is a fine motion picture. The lack of external threat is more than compensated for by the internal dynamic between the McKaskels and Vallian. First, it establishes that Vallian is basically using this family for his own ends, distracting Shabitt and his gang so Vallian has a shot at the half-breed. It gives an edge to Vallian's presence as a challenge to Duncan as a man, as a hero to his son an a potential lover to his wife. The conflict between those two men is at the heart of this story and the scales aren't tipped to one side or the other. Duncan isn't presented as a hapless sad sack. He's a brave and admirable man who's out of his depth and knows it.
Indeed, there's a good bit of this that plays like a romance novel where the woman is caught between the good man she married and the mysterious bad boy who rides into their lives and it's how Vallian handles that situation that truly reveals whether he's a hero or a villain. And it's all handled with a minimal amount of melodrama because there's no room for that stuff in the hard land of 1876 Wyoming. This isn't about Duncan or Vallian being the better man. It's about people who have enough respect for each other to not let their emotions overwhelm them.
The Quick and the Dead makes you wish Sam Elliott had been born several decades earlier so he could have made dozens and dozens of Westerns at the peak of the genre's popularity. Tom Conti is no slouch, though. He endows Duncan McKaskel with a strength that isn't as ostentatious as Vallian's but is ever present. Matt Clark is an effective villain who finds himself undone by his commitment to his own villainy and Kate Capshaw is quite good as a woman growing into the expanded role both allowed and demanded of her by the frontier.
This is a quality Western. Yes, it does look and feel like a TV move instead of a big screen product but don't hold that against it. You won't regret slowing down to watch The Quick and the Dead.