Review of The Outlaw Josey Wales

Sixteen years before the unforgettable Unforgiven (1992), Eastwood delivered this genre classic, at a time where New Hollywood had confidently taken over and, outside of Italy's fledgling film industry, Western was no longer on the agenda. America's self-understanding as a conquering nation had been dealt a traumatic blow in Vietnam, and hence, tales of fearless and god-fearing conquistadors seemed at best inappropriate. Well into his transgressive Dirty Harry stints, Eastwood plays one Josey Wales, a farmer who is caught in the horrors of the Civil War and turns against his tormentors with a vengeance. The figure of Wales, which shares essential features with both the earlier Harry Callahan and the later William Munny, is the epitome of an Eastwoodian character, freighted with a moral ambiguity that is still likely to puzzle viewers today. A constituting factor of his lone riders is the outward defiance of authority where it is deficient, providing the moral justification for an individual to take the law into his hands. Josey Wales was unjustly harmed by the Union forces (who represent the State) and will fight them down come what will. Incidentally, Eastwood's positive depiction of Natives throughout his career fits in neatly with this ethical code, the State having stripped them of their rights, calling for individual action outside the boundaries of the law, or self-empowerment, if you will. Both the Natives and Josey Wales are outcasts, and by way of this ostracism, forced to become outlaws. The general feel of this film, like so many others, reflects Eastwood's no-nonsense directing. After all, he boasts a reputation for making swift decisions, doing with few takes, and coming in below budget. The opening credit scenes are a case in point here: instead of lengthy battle scenes, Eastwood has his bunch of guerrilla fighters ride across the landscape and shoot at random, enough to convey the essence of their action. The plot serves this purpose as well: a brief (pre-credits) introduction (Wales's family killed by the Union forces during a raid on his farm) serves as the inciting incident and must suffice to lay down the hero's motives. From here on, we may concentrate on Wales's adventures and, eventually, his inner conversion. It takes an immaculate female to bring this conversion about, a virgin who can be seen as the embodiment of the hippie movement and a Catholic figure of redemption alike – a perfect incarnation of Eastwood's trademark double entendre.