The Magnificent Seven: Films (1960-72)

The Magnificent Seven (1960)

Dir. John Sturges

Hollywood swapped east for west, B+W for colour and katanas for guns in their reworking of Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai (1954).

Despite being pushed for time behind the scenes they managed to come up trumps in every way with the first film in the series.

The John Ford-esque clique; the men beholden to nothing but their own moral code; recurring good and bad guy themes (by Elmer Bernstein); and even the timely split between the recruit, preparation and battle phases are all instantly recognisable pre-existing elements to fans of both the Western and Chanbara genre but it's still indelibly iconic in its own way.

A large part of the appeal can be attributed to the stellar cast. The seven protagonists, Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen, Charles Bronson, James Coburn, Robert Vaughn, Horst Buchholz and Brad Dexter were given a talent equal their own to combat in the shape of the inimitable Eli Wallach. They each remain cool under pressure; if they don't it's because the story demanded it.

Return of the Magnificent Seven (1966)

Dir. Burt Kennedy

It once again features a village being threatened by an outside force, but the Seven's reasons for giving aid are different. For some it’s personal.

Most of the Seven are different, too. Some of them may be less noble men but they're no less capable with a gun, which is fortunate because the enemy numbers are much higher than was faced in the previous outing.

It's a big step down in quality. The story isn't as good and the characters aren't as memorable.

Yul Brynner's the focal point of the group conscience and an experienced tactician, extending his influence only to those that he knows want and need it. I'll be frank and say that without him and Claude Akins the film would struggle to keep its head up in the first hour.

What bothers me the most, however, is how parts of the final battle are cut together. It's logical to cut quickly to someone falling from their horse after the hero shoots, but an over reliance on the safe option can emphasise its trite nature, damaging the film at a time when it's supposed to be at its peak. Even so, it's arguably that last half hour that makes it worth watching more than once.

Guns of the Magnificent Seven (1969)

Dir. Paul Wendkos

The bad news is Yul Brynner is absent. The good news is his shoes are filled by George Kennedy. The remainder of the group are all men of strong character, each bringing something unique to the changed roster.

They're assembled to help rescue a man from a Mexican prison, a man held under lock and key by a tyrannical military leader.

The enemy is many. They have military grade guns. The odds are heavily stacked against the Seven. They go anyhow. Hell, yeah!

The action is mostly reserved for the finale, but there's a well-paced feeding of excellent dialogue and characterisation prior to that.

There are times when the director and/or cinematographer use shadow as a kind of frame within the frame, highlighting what's important, much like you'd see in the days of B+W Hollywood. It draws attention to itself, but it also makes a quiet scene more dramatic.

It's perhaps the second best entry in the film series. Even if you disagree and all else fails you, there's always Elmer's amazing score to keep you smiling.

The Magnificent Seven Ride (1972)

Dir. George McCowan

For reasons that are difficult to define, viewers are conditioned to accept a trilogy. But once a series goes to part four they begin to recognise that they're being exploited. They refuse to watch it on principle. Experience tells them it'll be shit, so it's best not to even watch it. For that reason the fourth and final Magnificent Seven gets ignored by a lot of people.

Lee Van Cleef plays the lead, a semi-retired marshal who talks himself into one last desperate stand against a monstrous enemy.

It's fair to say that the rest of cast aren't as strong as they could've been, but the story more than makes up for it. It doesn't skip on motivation for Cleef and the moral ambiguity gets more attention than before, questioning whether killing or dying in the name of good can redeem a wicked soul or taint a kind one.

Don't hate it for being fourth. Instead, celebrate it for going to places the other films didn't. If the screenplay had pushed its strengths to the fore via meaningful exchanges between two characters, instead of securing them into the subtext, it would've been easier to read and likely appealed to a wider audience, but as it is now it rewards the careful viewer.