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Pale Imitation

Pale Rider Directed by Clint Eastwood At the Sack Cheri

By Thomas M. Dovle

REMEMBER THE GOOD OLD DAYS of Clint Eastwood? The days when Josey Wales would take out half an army with his six shooter? Those violent spaghetti westerns of yesteryear were an original departure from traditional western themes. Instead of the good guy in white, they had the gunslinger as anti-hero. You also had a lot of fun watching Clint quietly blow people away with style. Those were the days.

But like the Old West, those days are gone. Instead, in Pale Rider, Eastwood presents us with a character who is a walking mixed metaphor of death, kindness, and virility. The new fusion of Clint as sensitive actor with Eastwood as macho killer might actually be tolerable however, if the entire movie was not such an obvious rip off of Shane, the classic 50s Western with Alan Ladd.

Sure, in this movie it's miners fighting for their claims instead of farmers fighting for their land, and a rock to be cracked instead of a tree stump to be moved, and a little girl becoming a woman instead of a little boy emulating a hero. But changes of scenery and slight changes of situation can't fool anyone who has seen the original. This is Shane all over again.

Any difference in plot is for the worst. Clint actually does the deed with his neighbor's concubine, something that Shane never would have done. The portrayal of an ex-gunfighter trying to get away from it all--which was barely believable when Ladd did it--is lost in Eastwood's performance, as he begins the movie by beating his opponents to a pulp.

EASTWOOD HAS ALSO STOLEN from his own movies. If there is one thing that never changes in any of his films, it is that the female leads are lousy. The young girl who prays for Eastwood's appearance and subsequently desires to sleep with him plays her role with snivelling mediocrity. The mother who beats out her daughter in the battle for Clint is developed only slightly better. The only thing to be thankful for is the absence of Sondra Locke.

The males are only slightly better. As the miner fighting to save his claim, Michael Moriarty is safely cast. As he did in Bang the Drum Slowly, Moriarty excels as the ordinary man caught in extraordinary situations. Christophe, Penn, on the other hand, has a long way to go before equaling his more famous brother's talent.

In addition to being utterly predictable, the conclusion is also quite mishandled. Eastwood faces his enemies in unheroic fashion, playing a deadly game of hide and seek. Where's Josey Wales when you need him?

This movie is perhaps worth the two dollar matinee at the Somerville theater. But don't pay $4.75 to see it. Go to the original Shane instead. If you've already seen the original but are hell-bent on seeing Clint's latest, don't be surprised if Pale Rider disappoints you.

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