Year of Eastwood #18

Joe Kidd (1972)

Starring: Eastwood, Robert Duvall
Directed by John Sturges

After all these high-falootin’ Westerns, Clint stars as Joe Kidd (that's Kidd with an extra D and that rhymes with T which stands for Trouble, right here in Dusty City). This time around Eastwood isn’t some angel of justice or ghost of vengeance, he’s just a semi-retired gunslinger minding his own business. He gets arrested for shooting a mule deer on a reservation (kind of like OJ going to prison for stealing his own memorabilia) and is sentenced to 10 days of cleaning up the town - not with his own special brand of justice ... but with a broom. Like most of these Westerns, Clint’s not looking for trouble, but it has a way of finding him.

First up, a band of bandito revolutionists raid the town and want to kidnap the Judge. Clint was in court at the time and has no choice but to get involved. No sooner does the dust settle from these dudes when Duvall rides into town as a wealthy landowner looking to do some high-end game hunting ... maybe a couple of bison, an elephant, a prairie dog or two. He wants to hire Clint to be his guide, but turns out what he's really hunting is the Mexicans. Clint declines but when he returns to his ranch to see that the banditos ran off with his horses, now he’s got reason and his name is Luis Chama. That's a great movie name, kinda rolls off the tongue - Bring me the head of Luis Chama.

Clint doesn’t trust Duvall but hey the guys signing the checks so what you gonna do? When Duvall starts killing people right and left to track down Luis Chama, he decides Duvall’s methods don’t quite jive with Clint’s own ethics of pushing a guy down the stairs or smacking him upside the head with a clay pot. So Clint decides to organize his own strike against his employers, kinda like a western version of Norma Rae. But Clint does all his protesting with his fists. There’s a standoff in a small village between Duvall's men and the Mexicans but Clint sneaks around and picks off most of Duvall’s men and then convinces Luis Chama to turn himself over to the authorities. You see, Clint is a gun slinging killer with scruples.

Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to watch all these Clint westerns in succession at this point in YOE (Year of Eastwood). It’s really gotten to a point where it’s a struggle to write much new about western after western. There is definitely themes that begin to emerge...

Clint really just wants to be left alone and then someone (or more likely a bunch of someones) has to come along and shoot his horse, or kill his family, or wrap a noose around his neck. But Clint can only takes so much and then he pushes back. And when you make Clint angry, you end up dead.

Lady-types don't play a big part in most Westerns. But if there's a lady within a few miles, trust me, Clint will have her swooning soon enough. Clint ain't much one for talking, so usually he'll just grab himself a handful of woman and start smooching. Hell, not even a nun can resist the wiles of the Mysterious Stranger. JC's got nothing on Clint.

Clint never wastes a bullet. There isn’t a single time he misses his target (except when he’s drunk). Clint always ends up the last man standing at the end but more often then not it’s somewhat of an empty victory ... unsure if the town was worth saving or if all that money is really worth it ... as Clint jumps on his only true friend (his horse) and rides off into the sunset.

OK, sometimes he'll ride off with a chick by his side, but seriously we know he's going to be pretty sick of hearing her nag by the time they reach the next town.