The Sam Peckinpah Centenary 2 – Ride the High Country

“Salvation and Loneliness”

Sam Peckinpah’s experience with The Deadly Companions had multiple impacts upon him and his subsequent directorial career.

That irksome brother of Maureen O’Hara, Charles Fitzsimons, had refused to allow any changes to the script (not his finest decision in light of the released film and Sam’s later efforts). So Peckinpah resolved to never direct another picture without reserving the right to rewrite.

In reviews of the film, amid the inventory of shortcomings, Peckinpah’s direction did receive some compliments. Always mindful of the next big thing, these plaudits were noticed by the Hollywood community.

And so, in autumn of 1961, MGM sent a script entitled Guns in the Afternoon to Peckinpah’s home. Casting of the lead roles was already complete, but its producer was looking for a director.

Peckinpah enthusiastically accepted the assignment. And immediately commenced rewriting. (The extensive rewrites are covered in the eponymous Reel West book about the film, as noted in this post .)

Those lead roles were filled by Joel McCrea and Randolph Scott. In retrospect, this pairing seemed pre-destined.

The two actors, who were long-time friends, started their careers in silent film, made their name in talkies, and, in the mid-40s, famously chose to perform (almost) exclusively in Westerns. With Audie Murphy, they were 50s mainstays in a specific cinematic niche, the mid-budget oater; in 1959, after completing pictures at about the same time, both effectively retired from the big screen, without announcement or fanfare (McCrea first starring in a television series, Wichita Town, that lasted for one season.)

Said McCrea, “Both Randy and I were washed-up actors playing washed-up lawmen.”

Both men had experience with mercurial, visionary directors, McCrea with Preston Sturges, Scott more recently with Budd Boetticher.

Both were regarded as true gentlemen in a Hollywood that was more rough-and-tumble than contemporaneous studio puffery and later nostalgic recollection indicate.

L.Q. Jones,  left, as a vile Hammond brother

According to Ride co-star L.Q. Jones, “Joel was the best human being I ever met and Randy wasn’t far behind him.”*

O’Hara was certainly formidable as the driving force behind The Deadly Companions; Peckinpah had to be on good behavior. Now in full control, how would the volatile young director handle two actors with 60+ years of film experience and 90+ Western roles between them?

Well, as it happened.

Sam on set (and a truck) during the shooting of Ride the High Country

Peckinpah apparently got on with his two stars and, unlike some actors in future films, treated them respectfully. After the film wrapped, McCrea sent the director a hand-written note, forecasting great things for him.

Sam being Sam, though, he did have two moments. Filming began in the Mammoth Lakes area of California and proceeded smoothly. MGM recalled the production company to Los Angeles, however, when the forecast called for an early season snowstorm. Peckinpah refused to ride in the studio’s car and instead rode in the actors’ bus, complaining, playing cards, and drinking entirely too much tequila.

Once production resumed around LA, and while filming the bath sequence, Peckinpah was difficult with his cast and crew, firing at least one person. This behavior persisted for several days, after which he settled into the business of making the movie.

Foreshadowing future problems, he ultimately did not have the final cut of the film, although the sympathetic producer involved him in the process by phone.

Sam and CinemaScope

The movie’s post-production history is well-known. MGM had few hopes for the film and attempted to bury it on the bottom of a double bill. Critics, however, both in the US and Europe, appreciated its artistry, recognizing the actors and director, with Newsweek naming it the best movie of 1962.

Sam Peckinpah had arrived as a big-screen director.

Jeff’s Take:

One of the best aspects… is undoubtedly the interplay of McCrea and Scott… Joel McCrea and Randolph Scott were never better.

Each film you see [RG Armstrong]…you think that one is his best performance.

Top-notch acting.

If the film is about integrity and moral courage, it is also essentially about solitude. It is, in fact, a masterpiece.

RR’s Take:

A very important and very fine film.

I’ve seen Ride two or three times over the years but always several years apart. It was really interesting to watch it again, in chronological sequence with the rest of Peckinpah’s Westerns. I understand why Bud and so many of our readers revere this movie. A farewell to Scott and McCrea, two of the finest Western stars, and to the classical Western itself (and even to the wider classic Hollywood in which our noble genre had thrived). As encapsulated by that magnificent final shot but also in so many smaller moments (an example, one of my favourites, is when McCrea seeks privacy to don his spectacles to read the contract: this small bit of business throws so much light on the character, his dignified and quiet pride as he ages).

“I must say, Mr. Judd, I expected a much younger man.”
“Well, I used to be. We all used to be.”

I admire the cinematography, too, especially of the exteriors: a little like in the Anthony Mann films, the landscape is almost one of the characters in the film, alongside the human protagonists. (I should note that my copy is the DVD release of around 20 years ago, which looks good but I should imagine the more recent BluRay really adds to the experience.) This all said, I’m slightly puzzled at myself as to why Ride the High Country doesn’t completely do it for me, hovering just below my top echelon of favourite oaters. I find it drags in a few places, and don’t enjoy some of the minor characters. But no question: this is a majestic Western and one of the most significant ever made.

Sam-wise, the theme of past-their-prime characters seeking a final redemption is, to my mind, at its most powerful here partly for the exact reason that we’re still, just about, in the old Hollywood that the film draws to a close, so it’s done without the violent excess of later movies.

An interesting historical footnote: on its original UK cinema release the original script title Guns in the Afternoon was used, rather than Ride the High Country. I think I slightly prefer that original title, actually – it’s less generically Western and somehow seems to evoke the mood and theme of the film: these men have reached the afternoon of their lives.

Bud’s Take:

On occasion, hearing a certain song transports me, if only for a moment, to a certain time or place in my life. Music can spark that kind of emotional reaction. For me, Ride the High Country triggers a similar connection. The reason goes beyond the film’s story or dialogue or photography or actors (although admittedly McCrea and Scott are my two favorite performers in our noble genre).

I first viewed Ride while filling unwanted free time after several thousand colleagues and I were suddenly relieved of our job responsibilities. Sitting on my couch, with concerns about my working future hovering closely, I was electrified and oddly encouraged by the character of Steve Judd, his satisfaction in finding employment that he considered meaningful after years of working in brothels and saloons.

(I hasten to note this experience is well in the past, I have gratefully rejoined the ranks of the working, and the afore-mentioned is merely an anecdote to be shared.)

But at that time of my life, over Ride’s 94 minutes, I found – and still find – resonance in the film’s themes in general, and Steve Judd’s story arc in particular.

Certainly, my feelings for the film are specific and unique to my particular circumstance. I understand and accept that the movie doesn’t strike an emotional chord for everyone… just look at the IMDB user reviews!

But the picture does have other strengths to which I direct attention:

Randolph Scott, reveling in the chance to play a crooked arrow, relishing the ripostes given to him, and at movie’s end, filling that ‘expressively inexpressive’ face, so stony in so many movies, with a rockslide of silent feeling as his fallen partner provides his final testimony.

McCrea’s burning stare and clipped delivery in the betrayal scene, embodying his disappointment in and fury at his partner; for an actor sometimes described as ‘understated’, ‘amiable’, and even ‘stolid’ (!), McCrea played anger very well.

And finally, the film’s shattering final scene which, as described above by RR, signified more than the end of a movie; a scene which hushed the set, inspired Sam Peckinpah to quietly walk over to the prone McCrea and whisper, “That’s it. You got it,” ** and brought Randolph Scott to tears…

It moves me beyond my capacity for words.

Bibliography and References:

Long, Hannah: Plough

Nott, Robert: Reel West, Ride the High Country;  University of New Mexico Press, 2024

Suton, Koraljka: Cinephilia & Beyond
This article currently contains a link to the film’s shooting script and schedule

*Thomas, Nick: Interview with L.Q. Jones; multiple sources, 2017

**Weddle, David: “If They Move… Kill ‘Em!”; Grove Press, 1994