Writing by Erin Kay Shaw, Image courtesy of Overbrook Entertainment
Fret not: the Western remains firmly ensconced in cinema canon. “The Harder They Fall” intends to add to that tradition with its upcoming debut on Netflix Nov. 3. Director Jeymes Samuel introduced the film as a “love letter” to the genre. “The Harder They Fall” is alive with the gritty, visceral experience found in Tarantino’s own brand of Westerns, while also maintaining the silliness and relatability provided by films like “Blazing Saddles.” This love letter honors the grand tradition of the Western while also bucking preconceived notions of what a Western should be or can be.
“The Harder They Fall” follows two outlaw gangs as they traverse dusty deserts and outpost towns. Nat Love, played by Jonathan Majors, is out for revenge with his trusty gang of misfits. The focus of his revenge is rival gang leader Rufus Buck, played by Idris Elba. What ensues is everything one could hope for. Gun fights, bar brawls, galloping horses, brash language, feisty women, righteousness. The costumes are impeccable; the hats alone are worth the watch. There are ample and unabashed examples of violence, used masterfully to convey the ruthlessness with which the characters must live by if they are to ever gain justice.
The soundtrack is exquisite. Jay-Z is a producer and Samuel is a musician himself. The result is an effortless, fluid composition that mixes 1960s soul with rap, reggae, electronica and gospel chants. The majority Black cast is as star studded as they come. Zazie Beetz as Stagecoach Mary is alluring and defiant, a powerful woman. LaKeith Stanfield plays Cherokee Bill, a chillingly calm and smooth operator, the quickest draw around. Danielle Deadwyler is sensational as Cuffee, a saloon doorman. Deadwyler’s portrayal is layered and complex. In a particularly vivid, feel-good, bank robbing scene, the chemistry between Deadwyler and Majors is electric and thrilling.
I left the screening with a few questions. There were several confusing moments; I found myself wondering if I had missed something, a plot point or important dialogue. That said, the opposite is far worse. Being over-explained to leaves one feeling dejected and dumb. Some of the more tense or climactic scenes fell short of capturing my emotions. I knew intuitively that the actor’s eyes were supposed to be communicating something deep and weighted but I could never quite get to the contemplative moment I was hoping for.
The cross is a visual theme repeated throughout the film. It shows up subtly but profoundly. In one instance, a large white cross appears in the center of a black background. This is reminiscent of the cutout, silhouetted forms of artist Kara Walker, an artist who has been pushing the boundaries of what it means to be a Black creator with a personal history as well as a tumultuous, painful ancestral history. In Walker’s art we are reminded that historical black people were real, feeling people, not just names in textbooks. Similarly, “The Harder They Fall” opens with three words spanning the screen: “These. People. Existed.”
