Johnny Guitar

So I put myself in a position to be massively disappointed, but as it turns out I wasn’t let down in the least, and it’s worth every bit of the raving Z has been doing for the past several months: this is my favorite western… perhaps even above McCabe. Shocked I wouldn’t call it a feminist revision exactly, but inserting a woman’s moral position in a genre so thoroughly coded with masculine standards is itself a revolutionary achievement. Subtle genre-busting all over the place, from bits as simple as Crawford’s wardrobe changes to fundamental questioning of “good guys” and “bad guys.” Men can wear pink and dance and retain their pride; women duel and never ride side-saddle. Every interaction between these characters thrilled me, to be completely honest…

And playing an iconic screen persona against type is always a stroke of genius, if you ask me. Like putting Bogart in a romantic comedy: sounds absurd, but works effortlessly. Crawford is Crawford all the time, with her haughty attitude, permanently raised eyebrows and mannered delivery. Put her in a western and she’s still Crawford… you see what a delight this is, don’t you?