Sunday, 1 March 2020

Pictorial 99


You start out thinking Rio is one of the most nicely balanced Westerns, between Indian and cowboy, mighty landscapes and miniature townscapes.

The Indians in The Hide Butchers are portrayed as savages, merciless killers of cavalry troops who yet have a code of honour that repays Rio with his life (and horse).

Gradually it dawns on one that the stories aren’t as impartial as might first appear; this is borne out in probably the best finished yarn, Red Dust in Tombstone. As you are aware, the Earp brothers shot down the Clanton ranch gang at the OK Corral, and this story follows the aftermath. Wyatt is now a bona fide legend of the Old West and running for Sheriff, while Virgil is Marshal.

Several things in the story point to Wildey’s not liking the Earps, and having vastly more affinity for the wild, rowdy rough-house characters of the frankly irrational old west. This could include the Clantons. In the one scene they are pictured, Wyatt is philandering between two women, and makes a short speech on the merits of electricity.

“Tie that bull outside”
, is the Clantons rebuff, as they yeehaw out of town.
 

Mind you, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with the female element brightening up the promenades.
 
What Wildey is good at is the rough-hewn textures of roads, walls and stairs where nothing is ever straight. The rough and beaten road contains less order than will subsequently appear, but has a virile sense of languid figures owning the place.
The symmetries of the body in an old west setting have a fluid sense of power that really gives the scene meaning. In the days before electricity, all the gear such as wagons is run by humans and animals in a cooperative way that engenders a feeling of harmony.
The harmonic or female vibe is very evident in the macho context. Now, I’m not saying in a Luddite way that electricity is all nasty; I’m saying that this time – and setting – just after the shootout at the OK Corral was when an industrial change took place that is only now finalising.
Electricity isn’t bad in itself – as can be seen from 50s scenes of Harlem that are fairly similar and rickety (P95). It’s only a function like any other. But there is an order implicit in electricity that has the capability of changing the symmetries and harmonics that you see here.

Electricity is the device that enables the logistics of capital-economics to vastly outweigh the harmonics of a commune. The Earps, with their passion for order, are the first to usher in this new era. In their zeal, they almost resemble killer-robots.
 

Further on, Doc Holliday foils a fake lawman’s attempt on Wyatt’s life, and Wildey carries on the electrical zeal with the notion that the plot was hatched by the gaslight company!
 

Wildey has a nice line in shadow that calls to mind Grace Slick’s quote on the aesthetics of 1790 versus 1990 (Prev.)
 
Gaslight or candle-light certainly engenders a communal harmonic in a way electricity doesn’t (as in Barry Lyndon
)
 
The way Wyatt equates it with order makes it clear that he is a forerunner of the modern order of capital-economics vis-a-vis the gentler, feminine harmonic of the commune.
The order itself (light) is essentially Apollo, meaning appearance.
 
Appearance is everything in the modern order. However in nature appearances are constantly changing. Buffy Saint-Marie’s (98 ) motto of “dry it out” so that dried buffalo manure makes campfires is very germain. Other things occupy this such as song in the communal atmosphere of a campfire.
The strength of nature works in transformation, leading to regrowth and renewal. Whereas Apollo is simply “the appearance of order”, a natural transformation is strength and fertility. Dionysus, the wild, lusty god of the vine.