Hard Times
There may be no more enigmatic figure in the history of cinema than that of Charles Bronson. A guy who (even moreso than John Wayne) played all of his roles with a personality that matched his own real life one and was likewise known as being a straight shooting, no bullshit type that in many ways was responsible for earning him millions of fans all over the world. But there was also a bitterness deep down inside him too, an anger he carried for being a guy who had been acting since he was in his mid twenties and yet didn’t become a major star until his mid forties and even then he still had to put up with constant criticism from reviewers who claimed that he couldn’t really act and almost never showed any emotion onscreen (i.e. he would never emote). Nevertheless he always carried a tremendous presence in movies and that alone would add substantial weight to his roles along with his rugged persona. Despite his late ascension to the A list, Bronson would still have a hell of a run as a bona fide movie star for years (perhaps making up for lost time) and many of his films are even today still being plucked out of the obscurity of their time and being rediscovered including this 1975 release which was also notable for being the first film directed by Walter Hill en route to a string of classics that he would put out for the next three decades. The film itself is beautifully unique, a sports drama set during The Great Depression where the sport in question that’s being explored is the world of underground bare knuckle fighting, one with no regulations or athletic commissions to govern it with fines and suspensions (and no referee during the actual fights) and where all money won is through the bets being placed by both the fighters’ representatives and the fans in attendance. Human cockfighting though it may be, the money made is still more than what would be earned at any of the ridiculously meager paying jobs that were barely available in the America of the 1930s. Bronson again plays a mysterious figure here, a lone drifter fresh off the boxcar train who only goes by the name “Chaney”. Who he is or where he comes from is obviously not important before he wanders into an abandoned warehouse full of screaming fans and witnesses a fight involving one of the men managed by Speed (James Coburn, the other great legend in this film) who gets his clock cleaned and thus winds up leaving Coburn (a guy who loves to talk shit on behalf of his fighters) with plenty of egg on his face and a little lighter in the wallet. Bronson decides that this is something that he wants to do and meets up with Coburn at an oyster bar. They strike an impromptu handshake deal and the very next night Bronson coldcocks the guy who had won the night before with one punch. Coburn knows that he’s got a winner on his hands (even as he and others question Bronson’s age and wonder just what the hell he’s been through in life to make him this good) and brings Bronson home with him to New Orleans to put him out there on that town’s circuit, also introducing him to an opium addicted medical school dropout (Strother Martin) who will serve as his cut man, if needed. The goal for them is to work their way into contention in order to fight the top guy in New Orleans (biker movie star Robert Tessier) for whom the front money just to take him on is in the $3000 dollar range as demanded by his handler, the richest guy in the city (or at least the richest one who invests in the underground fighting scene) whose legitimate trade is in the fish and oyster shipping business (Michael McGuire). Bronson continues working his way to the top (while also adamantly stating that he is only doing this temporarily until he makes the exact amount of money he needs in order to move on) even as he and Coburn’s rivals also bring in the top fighter from Chicago to throw into the mix and Coburn (who seems to live a pretty glamorous life by Depression era standards while Bronson lives in a ramshackle room for $1.50 a night!) runs into big trouble with the local loan shark and the collectors whom he sends after him. Certainly the camerawork on display here can be described as being exceptional, with carefully composed and framed shots that colorfully display the era where the story took place in (although since it was shot on location in New Orleans, it didn’t require a lot of work to dress it up just right). At the center of it all here is Bronson (and bear in mind that he IS the star here with Coburn coming off as being more of a supporting role capacity) whom again, we don’t find out anything about his past or his fighting background (although at least one character accuses him of being a “ringer” which indicates that he’s had some kind of specialized fight training) which makes him come across in many ways as being almost a preternatural figure who despite his age (Bronson was 52 at the time of filming and sports an amazing physique for being that old) and mysterious past just seems like someone who was born to fight and not only that, to fight better than pretty much everyone who’s put in front of him (keeping in mind that most of his onscreen opponents here are no slouches in their own right) perhaps to be the answer to all of Coburn’s worries and problems or maybe it’s for an unknown reason or calling he has concerning where he came from and possibly plans on going back to when he’s done with his business here. The only human connection that he seems to make (besides Coburn) is with a seemingly random woman whom he meets in a coffee shop (played by Bronson’s wife Jill Ireland) who he embarks on a somewhat pointless pseudo romance with as their scenes together mostly consist of them sitting in her apartment while she whines about the dire state of the world they’re in. There were some sore points here: Director Hill didn’t even want Ireland in the movie even as she was cast at Bronson’s behest and after the filming Hill also stated that while he would love to work with Bronson again, he was also very unhappy with the quality of Ireland’s performance, something which prompted Bronson to never work with Hill ever again. Indeed, her scenes in the movie are kind of a distraction which slows the movie down quite a bit, with Bronson carrying on a cutesy courtship with her that never really goes anywhere. Likewise, Coburn’s character (whom it turns out must literally be “saved” by having Bronson agreeing to fight again after he’s already walked away from it) is written to be a tad too abrasive and over the top in his excessive shit talking mostly towards the other fighters whom he shows almost no respect for whatsoever (the other “rival” managers in the story ironically come off as being classier and more refined than he is) which weakens his character’s likability greatly even as nobody else does the fast talking huckster routine (complete with the Cheshire Cat grin) better than James Coburn himself. But a moment must be taken to talk about the fight scenes themselves with no higher compliment that can be paid other than to say that they really are worth the price of admission. Bronson’s fighting style is to keep his hands down and head wide open so that his opponents can rush right at him and be subject to his defensive maneuvering (ducking) and his devastating three punch combos (always to the lower face or jaw and never to the top of the head) and of course, the better the opponent that Bronson is facing, the better the fights themselves are with all of them being exciting, well shot, visceral battles where we can feel the impact even if it’s being seen from a long shot out in the crowd. The sight of these men fighting for their lives (and in the metaphorical sense of The Great Depression, fighting for their futures or even their next meal) is exactly what the realms of no holds barred fighting was leading up to in the years to come with the advent of Mixed Martial Arts and The UFC giving us something different in combat sports other than just regular old boxing, but the fluid filmmaking on display here and lethal starpower is something that simply cannot be beat and in the case of Charles Bronson, can never be replicated…
8/10