The Great SilenceLaw was created to preserve order in society and serve mankind. But when these laws become perverted by greed and vice, they become merely the convenient excuses for the immoral to justify their evil acts; such is the case in The Great Silence. Set amid the backdrop of the Great Blizzard of 1898/1899 in the mountainous reaches of Utah, The Great Silence is a revisionist "Spaghetti Western" where a mute, gunslinging avenger--aptly called "Silence" (Jean Louis Trintignant)--is not solicited to hunt the outlaws, but those who themselves hunt the outlaws, led by the cruel, yet cunning Loco (Klaus Kinski).
|
|
Although strictly speaking The Great Silence is a Spaghetti Western--part of a history of films set in the Wild West, but produced in Italy--it defies some tropes of the style while embracing others. One of the most significant differences is in the setting; immersed in snow, it is a far cry from the desert badlands of so many others. The dense snow is as much a character in the story as Silence and Loco; it evokes a kind of helplessness and feeling of being overwhelmed by nature. Just as Silence and his horse must trudge through the freezing landscape, where there is no assurance that one may find their footing, so it is with the moral surety of one who is a servitor of the law, and one who merely exploits it, devoid of morality and conscience. As Loco asserts time and again, he (and his vicious compatriots) are operating within the parameters of the law by killing and bringing back the corpses of the outlaws with a bounty on their heads. "All according to the law" is Loco's maxim, but it is spoken with a kind of snide derision by the villainous bounty killer. The outlaws which he hunts are not a group of organized criminals or even vicious thugs, but people who have fallen under such hard times that they must steal or rob in order to eat at all. Moreover, what differentiates them from the bounty killers is that the outlaws commit crimes only to survive, and the bounty killers operate solely out of greed and malice, turning our definitions of "good guys" and "bad guys" on their head. The bounty killers are not liked, especially by the newest sheriff to try his luck at governing the county of Snow Hill, Sheriff Gideon Burnett (Frank Wolff), who tries to find the means to detain and discourage Loco from his bloodthirsty occupation with only a modicum of success. The outlaws hope and pray for the rumors that the governor--perhaps hungry for votes--will declare an amnesty to the "bandits" are true, thus eliminating the market for the bounty killers to execute them without any oversight.
While the perception of the Wild West is one of lawlessness, The Great Silence is set at the end of that period, when the law was already progressing into that untamed landscape. However, as the law is enforced by those who lack morality, it only creates a system where it is not the lawlessness which proves to be the problem, but the failings in its enforcement, its shadow imposing tyrannical limitations on those who act out of basic needs for survival. Silence builds his reputation as an avenger of the innocent--and is allowed to carry out his vengeance--because he also exploits a loophole in the law, where he provokes his target into drawing first so that he may claim self-defense in the course of his duty. The problem becomes that it underscores that evil is allowed to thrive in the form of killers like Loco, whereas men like Silence must appear as criminals in order to see justice done. This is the key theme of The Great Silence, that law and morality are not inexorably bound to one another, and sometimes may be diametrically opposed. It also addresses another problem inherent in the practice of hiring a gun to kill another gun, which has always been a constant in the Spaghetti Western: that this practice only serves to reinforce an economy of killing, and further cements the idea of killing as a business in the circuitous escalation of revenge, as it is with Pauline Middleton (Vonetta Mc Gee), who hires Silence to kill Loco. The problem for Silence is that Loco refuses to let himself be drawn out by Silence's provocations so easily, and who orchestrates a no-win scenario for the mute gunslinger. So many films--even westerns--are content to allow themselves to be instruments of escapism, narratives which entertain by means of presenting good triumphing over evil; not so with The Great Silence, which does not go quietly into that good night, and ends on a tragic--even horrifying--note. There should be no question in the mind of viewers that justice was not done, even if the law was upheld and "criminals" met with swift enforcement of that law. It is this feeling of unease which makes The Great Silence so effective of a film--as a tale of morality which stays with you after the haunting score by Ennio Morricone has faded into the distance.
Recommended for: Fans of westerns who relish the idea of having the established tropes turned on their heads, and who can appreciate the cold, unforgiving landscape of the setting and the fascinating morality play which follows.
While the perception of the Wild West is one of lawlessness, The Great Silence is set at the end of that period, when the law was already progressing into that untamed landscape. However, as the law is enforced by those who lack morality, it only creates a system where it is not the lawlessness which proves to be the problem, but the failings in its enforcement, its shadow imposing tyrannical limitations on those who act out of basic needs for survival. Silence builds his reputation as an avenger of the innocent--and is allowed to carry out his vengeance--because he also exploits a loophole in the law, where he provokes his target into drawing first so that he may claim self-defense in the course of his duty. The problem becomes that it underscores that evil is allowed to thrive in the form of killers like Loco, whereas men like Silence must appear as criminals in order to see justice done. This is the key theme of The Great Silence, that law and morality are not inexorably bound to one another, and sometimes may be diametrically opposed. It also addresses another problem inherent in the practice of hiring a gun to kill another gun, which has always been a constant in the Spaghetti Western: that this practice only serves to reinforce an economy of killing, and further cements the idea of killing as a business in the circuitous escalation of revenge, as it is with Pauline Middleton (Vonetta Mc Gee), who hires Silence to kill Loco. The problem for Silence is that Loco refuses to let himself be drawn out by Silence's provocations so easily, and who orchestrates a no-win scenario for the mute gunslinger. So many films--even westerns--are content to allow themselves to be instruments of escapism, narratives which entertain by means of presenting good triumphing over evil; not so with The Great Silence, which does not go quietly into that good night, and ends on a tragic--even horrifying--note. There should be no question in the mind of viewers that justice was not done, even if the law was upheld and "criminals" met with swift enforcement of that law. It is this feeling of unease which makes The Great Silence so effective of a film--as a tale of morality which stays with you after the haunting score by Ennio Morricone has faded into the distance.
Recommended for: Fans of westerns who relish the idea of having the established tropes turned on their heads, and who can appreciate the cold, unforgiving landscape of the setting and the fascinating morality play which follows.