Dir. George Englund
USA
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It was this exact DVD, which is the first image for this review, that enticed
me to Zachariah in a second hand DVD
store, an odd looking spine in the Z section that lead to a fascinating cover,
a brilliant one, and the promise of ‘the first and only Electric Western’ in the
back cover blurb. The subversion of the Western, the archetype genre of
American cinema, is an obvious concept to do. In American B-cinema itself it
was subverted with films such as Johnny
Guitar (1954). Many other countries, especially Italy, made their own, and
numerous revivals and twists to the genre had been done up to the current
decade. It seems obvious that, on the cusp of the Seventies when alternative
culture was ripe for film, that something like Zachariah was made, combining rock music with the genre.
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When he acquires a gun, young
Zachariah (John Rubinstein) in tow
with his friend Matthew (Don Johnson)
becomes a gunfighter, first encountering the incompetent but musically talented
bandits The Crackers (the band Country
Joe & The Fish) before continuing on in a journey of self discovery
including notorious gunfighter Joe Cain (Elvin
Jones) and dancer Belle Starr (Patricia
Quinn). As they continue though, Zachariah and Matthew start to drift
apart. With an opening image of a horseback rider travelling through a barren
landscape, accompanied by an electric guitar riff, the film starts off
swimmingly. A blasphemous juxtaposition to the traditional, John Ford-lead western yes, but with an awkward
combination of full drum kits and guitars in a traditional frontier western
setting, this is far from a conventional piece within the genre, trying to meld
both sides together. It has the look of a traditional Western, closer to the
classic American ones of the 1950s than something from the same decade it was
made in like El Topo (1970), but
with rock music and groupies of the period as well as the attitudes of this
era. When Zachariah goes to a border town to Mexico, the film is almost about
to hit its stride, its colourful, flat dimensional architecture for the outdoor
and interior scenes gingerly toddling towards a Ken Russell film but with less confidence and a lower budget.
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The film has the materials to be
great, Rubinstein and Johnson generally likeable in their
roles, while the late drummer for jazz musician John Coltrane Elvin Jones
makes a formidable gunfighter who gets a chance to show his impressive skill
with a drum kit as well in one scene. There is a great choice of music and
musical acts scoring the film that push the film over to a musical as well as a
western even if no one suddenly bursts into song mid-dialogue. Only an attempt
to combine Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky's
1812 Overture with rock guitars fails, potentially kitsch in its most awful
form, but something that could have been impressive if it wasn’t half heartedly
attempted when scored over an attempted wagon robbery. The film sadly though
feels incredibly convoluted, undermining its potential to be good. It is clear
it is supposed to promote the bands and musicians involved – also including The James Gang and The New York Rock Experience – but the film comes to a screeching
halt at many points when the musical numbers are played. The story itself goes
in unnecessary and completely pointless directions, such as Patricia Quinn’s entire contribution to
the film, and the true plotline of the film, of Zachariah and Matthew’s relationship
being tested by the chance that one of them will shoot the other dead, is
killed by a New Age message introduced in the last act that, while attempted in
a subtle way, feels undercooked. Even the potential gay subtext to Zachariah
and Matthew’s relationship, which would have been a great flourish for the
film, is inadequately dealt with because of the pointless tangents. Sadly it is
also another potentially great genre film failed by its director not allowing
the locations around the characters to breath and flex on camera; baring some
good moments, including those moments when it is about to become a Ken Russell made western, the closed-in
use of the camera, fixed on the actors baring an occasionally establishing
shot, kills the sense of grandeur an ‘Electric Western’ could have used to its
advantage. This is worse when you consider how landscape and its character is
one of the most significant aspects of the western genre.
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There is a sense that, sadly, the
cover and tagline promised a film that Zachariah
is not, although this is probably what producer-director George Englund thought the words ‘Electric
Western’ conjured. With a tagline like ‘A
head of his time’ however, you are expecting a psychedelic western in what
those two words mean. Zachariah
could have been good on its own terms regardless of this, but excluding the
music, it feels far too mellow for a film which combines two things, rock music
and the western, that could be perfect fellows for their hardened, world weary
tones and complete lack of compromise.
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