Dead Man (1995) A wholly unique surrealist Western (Review)

For an extended period of time, the Western was the United States’ most beloved genre of film. Despite its popularity briefly dying as film transitioned between silent films and talkies, it was kicked back into the spotlight with John Ford’s Stagecoach; from that point onwards many directors such as Ford, Anthony Mann and Howard Hawks would go on to create staple Westerns and define the genres many characteristics. Despite fading out of the Hollywood studio system throughout the 60s (along with the death of the Hays Code) the genre remained popular through more brutal and nihilistic Westerns made from a revisionist perspective. It wasn’t until the catastrophe of Heaven’s Gate, a film which despite being reappraised now lost $40M on release, which led to most studios deciding that the Western was a mostly dying genre.

Whilst some films continued to be made throughout the 80s the genre’s real second life, and in some ways, its second death, came with the release of Clint Eastwood’s 1992 film Unforgiven; a rugged and mean Western about the consequences of violence and vengeance. However, the genre would get another burst of life in the 90s from a director most people didn’t expect – Jim Jarmusch’s Dead Man. Although Jarmusch’s approach to making a Western was certainly very different to Eastwood’s and even further from how the stereotypical classical Western would’ve been made at the genre’s apex; instead his idea of the Wild West feels more akin to the psychedelic and existential films made by Monte Hellman (namely The Shooting).

Dead Man follows William Baker (Johnny Depp), an accountant who is travelling across America to start a new job in the town of Machine, a downtrodden town full of criminals. When he arrives, however, he finds out he is too late and the job has been given to somebody else. After attempting to talk to the boss called Dickinson (Robert Mitchum in his last ever American film role before his death) he stumbles out and wanders around the town as he slowly realises he isn’t in a friendly part of the world. Somehow he ends up in a situation that involves him, as well as a woman he recently met, being shot by a jealous lover (the son of Dickinson) although he manages to shoot them back in retaliation. Barely surviving he manages to escape into the barren wilderness of the West whilst being chased by bounty hunters and sheriffs who want to kill him for the ransom money.

This is ultimately as far as Jarmusch goes with the narrative of the film (this is all within the first 30 minutes) and throughout the rest of the film, the plot dissolves into virtual non-existence. What we are left with is essentially a shaggy dog tale about a dying man coming to terms with his own death and attempting to face whatever comes next. Baker is joined by Nobody (Gary Farmer), a Native American who tries to save Blake, as he takes him on his journey to the afterlife whilst offering guidance and wisdom. Jarmusch leans heavily into surrealism and leaves the viewer unsure if Nobody, and Blake for that matter, is really there or if they are just a spectre haunting the wastelands of the West. Everything in the film feels slightly off-kilter, from the droning and cyclonic guitars played by Neil Young to the Coen Brothers-Esque dark humour that frequents many scenes.

Shot in gorgeous monochrome, Jarmusch and cinematographer Robby Müller (known for his collaborations with Wim Wenders) construct something that feels completely lost in the void of time. Unlike most Westerns, it takes place mostly outside of a bustling town instead it focuses on the badlands that surround those towns. Despite coming across campsites or trading posts there is never really any coherent sense of location which makes the audience feel just as lost as William Blake himself; although this is absolutely the intention of the film – to create a dream-like feel that relies on atmosphere rather than just narrative. The film also becomes more brutal as it goes on and features multiple shootouts and at one point – cannibalism. There is something to be said about the way Blake appears, almost as a vengeful spirit, to kill off bounty hunters in that it almost feels like a slasher film; one by one they fall in increasingly gory fashion.

Lots of people tend to throw around the term “Revisionist Western”, myself included, but often the films labelled with that don’t feel dramatically different from Westerns that existed in the 50s and 60s. However, Dead Man takes the genre and doesn’t so much deconstruct it but more so flips it completely on its head; it is very much a minimalist and slow-moving Western that offers only small glimpses of the traditional genre tropes. Jarmusch goes for creating a gloomy and sombre atmosphere that focuses more on the pondering of life and death than any Western come before it. Although sometimes the persistence of being an “anti-Western” and being more concerned with mood is its detriment; there are times where it just feels the slightest bit dull and feels like it is meandering around before it figures out what scene needs to come next, something not helped by its two-hour runtime.

Johnny Depp gives probably the best performance he ever has and he doesn’t even have to say very much. His expressive face shot in black and white looks like something that is from the classical Hollywood era, contrasted with an age-old Robert Mitchum who delivers a great performance despite it being mostly just a cameo. We also get an Iggy Pop cameo alongside minor roles from Crispin Glover, John Hurt and Alfred Molina. Lance Henriksen also plays a psychotic cannibal bounty hunter who is incredibly creepy to watch, adding a much more menacing tone to the film whenever he appears on-screen. Alongside the range of different actors Jarmusch jam packs this film with a heap of cultural references that only people wise enough to look up will figure out, one niche one is the quote “My name is Nobody” is a reference to 1972 Italian western featuring Henry Fonda – who’d of thought that.

Criterion’s transfer looks absolutely beautiful and highlights the film’s brilliant sound design, the intro sequence on the train is especially brilliant, making the film look like it hasn’t aged a day. There is a myriad of special behind the scene features, including a new Q&A with Jarmusch with fan-submitted questions that is a must-watch for any big-time fan. Anyone who enjoys surrealist directors such as David Lynch and Luis Bunuel, or people who want to check a radically different Western compared to the genre’s usual offerings will absolutely get something out of this film.

Autumn’s Archive – Dead Man