★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆
As a self-professed film-lover, it’s probably not wise to
admit that I’ve never actually seen Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai before attempting to review the latest remake, which
takes its name from John Sturgess’ The
Magnificent Seven, but credits the Japanese original as its primary source.
I was, however, made to watch a scene or two from Sturgess’ film as part of an
American West module during GCSE history, so I was aware of the essential
setup: a settlement in the West is terrorized by a corrupt industrialist (Bartholomew
Bogue, played here by Peter Sarsgaard). To help rid them of their occupiers, the
townspeople, led by the brave Emma Cullen (Haley Bennett), seek the skills of
seven warriors.
Help arrives in the form of warrant officer Sam Chisolm
(Denzel Washington, re-teaming with director Antoine Fuqua once again), who
hires gambler Josh Faraday (Chris Pratt), seemingly the only man in town
unafraid of him. This chalk-and-cheese duo is soon joined by Comanche warrior Red
Harvest (Martin Sensmeier), tracker Jack Horne (Vincent D’Onofrio, with the
face of a bear and the voice of a chipmunk), veteran sharpshooter Goodnight
Robicheaux (Ethan Hawke) and his assassin counterpart Billy Rocks (Byung-hun
Lee), plus Mexican outlaw Vasquez (Mauel Garcia-Rulfo).
Such a diverse cast lends itself well to contemporary
readings, but it is still worth nothing that the Chinese, Mexican and Native
American characters are given minimal dialogue and development in comparison to
their fellow leads. Washington’s uncompromisingly calm and collected Chisolm is
a massively watchable character, and Chris Pratt’s swaggering, staggering and very Starlord-ish gunslinger is often called
upon to lighten the tone. Oddly, it’s Ethan Hawke as Goodnight who has the most
to do, battling constantly between his calling to defend the innocent and his civil
war-earned PTSD.
The time not used developing everyone else is instead wasted
in the climactic shootout, as we’re gifted endless cutaways to Bogue’s goons falling
from their horses. Much like Fuqua’s Olympus
Has Fallen, it’s not enough for someone to just be shot: no, we have to see
them yell, clutch at their wound and collapse onto the floor, multiplied by however
many hundreds our septet has to face. The sight of a second wave approaching
the town is more likely to be met with exasperated fidgeting than a fearful
gasp for our heroes.
If there is a saving grace of the overblown climax, it’s the
score by the late James Horner, also his final work. co-composer Simon Franglen has ensured that every one of Horner's trademarks is in there (including a four-note horn cue that
film music nerds will instantly spot), and it strikes a great balance between
new compositions and an intermingling of various elements from Elmer Bernstein’s
much-loved theme, which makes a stirring re-appearance during the credits.
The visuals could have done with taking more inspiration
from Sturgess’ film, too: as with the recent big-screen Lone Ranger, the West is reduced to muted greys and beige, all grit
and no grin. It pains me to write this as much as it’ll doubtless pain you to
read it, but Seth MacFarlane’s abysmal A
Million Ways to Die in The West had a visual splendour more evocative of a
genuinely sweeping Western than Fuqua’s film.
There’s some connective tissue here with another 2016
remake; Ben-Hur. Luckily, this is the
only point of comparison. If you’re going to pay money for one of the many rehashes
clogging up your multiplex, best spend it on something that actually has a
little reverence for the source material(s), and is, at the very least, a fun
way to spend a couple of hours. It’s too long and most of the characters are
thumbnail sketches at best, but the final product lands closer to magnificent
than malignant.
