A world of good

One film that I frequently ponder - sort of just gingerly hold in the same imaginative space that tends to give birth to fan fiction - is Rio Bravo. I've watched it near a dozen times over the years, beginning when I was around 18 or so, having learned back then that it was Quentin Tarantino's favourite film.

But more often than thinking about the story or characters, I end up thinking about what it is that makes the film so engrossing. Its "particularity of place" sneaks up on you; it doesn't need to compel. The film navigates its own fully wrought architecture with a continuous ease. Yet it is as though the entire film hangs on the hinges of that old door to the sheriff's office, opened and closed time and again. "Hey Stumpy, I'm coming in!" It has these quiet, insinuating rhythms; they develop into an almost blessed space, both blessed and dangerous. No other film really has this sense of place, of space: it is rarefied, totally set apart, and utterly unique.

I remember in the early minutes of my first viewing, wondering why this was Tarantino's favourite, even wondering if there was some other film by the same title, and that I might be watching the wrong one, when at some point that question was forgotten entirely, as I was totally absorbed in the film's space and time. The film didn't wow me or stun me: more unexpectedly, it came home to roost. When a film does that, it creates the greatest tension and suspense as well. One does not watch Rio Bravo. Rather, one slips into it, and at which point in the film one has slipped into it is impossible to say.

The film doesn't really begin or end. I mean, the film has a very satisfactory ending, but it doesn't end. Roger Ebert came close to describing what it was when he said in his Great Movies review, "The film is seamless...the 141-minute running time flows past like running water."

I say this too, as one who has always been put off by westerns, both film and tv. I have never been into the genre, and still am not. (And don't even get me started on Bone Tomahawk! Don't watch it! I wish I never had!)

Anyways, the reason I bring it up now is because I was thinking, there's lots of people quarantining, exercising mercy and kindness, and they have access to netflix, and maybe they haven't watched Rio Bravo before, and I'm saying, get down with your favourite drink and snuggle in and watch it. Even as "comfort viewing" it would be a boon.

But more, you may find the film opens up a part of your soul you didn't know was there. Trust me, watch the film.  It will do you a world of good.