It was sometime around fifteen years later
that the reputation of a deadly half white/half Mexican gunfighter named Johnny
Madrid reached the ears of Californians. The reputation was that of a
scoundrel, but a scoundrel with lightning-fast prowess with a pistola. From the
accounts of eyewitnesses and dime-store pulp writers, he had the quickness in
killing of Tom Horn, the accuracy of aim of Annie Oakley, the nasty disposition
of John Wesley Hardin, and the lack of human empathy of William H. Bonney. He
was one of the most feared killers who rode the Mexican side of the border,
known by the peons in the pueblos he passed through as El Asesino de Rojo
(translation: “The Murderer in Red”), due to the fancy red ruffled shirt he
always wore.
Those who enjoy the films of Tarantino, his Westerns in
particular, may find this “novel” of interest.
First, let’s get an expectation out of the way. If you
enjoyed the titled film, you do get plenty more time with Rick Dalton and
Cliff Booth but…if you open the pages expecting the book to follow the film,
well, that is not Tarantino’s way.
The fiery finale is reduced to a mere single paragraph
summary towards the beginning of the book.
So, if the book is not the movie what is it?
Well, it’s inside baseball on filmmaking, it’s film criticism,
it’s a primer of on-set behavior, it’s, well it’s many things but what it is
not is a carbon copy of the film and that is what makes it interesting [to this
reader’s mind.]
I assure readers of the Western Genre, we get lots of
insight into how Western film and television is made and the author’s views on
his own favorite Western novelists-one will not surprise you, two or three may.
There are entire chapters that seem to be no more than
extended plot summaries of Western episodic television.
If your tolerance for Mr. Tarantino’s digressive style
is low, well, this might be a skip for you.
If you like his films [and I do] I found myself admiring
the chutzpah of choosing not to tell the same ol’ story he already told.