When I was a kid one of my favorite places to go was a theme park up near Lake George called Storytown USA. It was the nearest thing we had to a local Disneyland, scaled way down of course, with rides and attractions based on fairy tales, fables, tall tales, legends, and, without their ever being actually named, TV shows and movies.
It was a modest place, but not chintzy. What was there was done well, presented with pride and some dash, and clean, shiny, colorful, and fun. But my favorite part was also the best part, Ghost Town!
Ghost Town was essentially the set of a TV western with probably as many “buildings” that were just false fronts. But there were plenty of buildings you could go into, like the livery stable, the blacksmith’s, the saloon, the general store, and the jail, enough places to visit that you could feel as though you were wandering the wooden plank sidewalks of real town in the Old West. It helped that several times a day masked bandits would ride into town and hold up the bank. A posse, rounded up from the kids on hand, would help the law track down and capture one of the robbers. Then members of his gang would sneak back into town and there’d be a jail break followed by a shoot out with the good guys that would include, depending on the bravery or recklessness of the college kids playing the bandits that summer, at least one bandit getting shot off the roof of the hotel.
In between the robberies and the gunfights there’d be shows on an outdoor stage built out from the side of the saloon. The shows would feature “cowgirls” who did rope tricks, “cowboys” who played the guitar and sang, “scouts” who had knife throwing acts, and saloon girls who danced the can-can lifting their skirts high for the bored dads in the audience. Frankly, I could never imagine getting so old that I would be bored by gunfights, rope tricks, and knife throwing acts that I would think it was a treat when those acts were interrupted by girls who couldn’t do rope tricks or throw knives.
I still haven’t gotten that old.
All of this was presided over by the town marshal, Wild Windy Bill McKay, who was a quick-draw artist and singing cowboy as well as a daring and resourceful upholder of law and order on the violent frontier.
Now, it was obvious to the most gullible kid that Windy Bill wasn’t a real cowboy. No real cowboy had stars on his boots or wore red jeans and fringed shirts with multi-colored sleeves, except Roy Rogers when he wasn’t working around the ranch.
But even though we knew the truth we accepted it as fact that he spent his days doing exactly what we were watching and helping him do, chase bandits and shoot it out with bad guys. Ghost Town, to our minds, was more dangerous than Dodge City, Tombstone, and Deadwood combined, and it would be a hundred times worse if it wasn’t for Windy Bill.
For all we knew and I still know Bill McKay had majored in accounting in college or spent years before coming to work at Storytown selling shoes.
But he presented himself as an authentic Western hero and legend and seemed confident that we wouldn’t doubt it and, son of a gun, we didn’t.
To us---to me anyway---for the time we moseyed the dusty streets of Ghost Town, Marshall Wild Windy Bill McKay was as real a lawman as Wyatt Earp and Wild Bill Hickcock.
The irony being, of course, that the Wyatt Earp and Wild Bill we knew and admired weren’t any more authentic than Wild Windy Bill McKay.
All three of them were creations of a hundred years worth of work by dime novelists, playwrights, movie makers, producers of TV shows, and one William F. Cody.
Buffalo Bill.
What went on in Ghost Town borrowed heavily from Buffalo Bill’s Wild West, as in fact did every movie and TV western that came after him. We “know” what an Indian attack and the cavalry riding to the rescue look like because of Buffalo Bill. We “know” what a stage coach hold-up looks like because of Buffalo Bill. We “know” what Custer’s Last Stand looked like because of Buffalo Bill. We know what an authentic Western hero looks like and how he acts because of Buffalo Bill, and by the way even when he’s short and sporting a crew cut and spits tobacco sideways out of the corner of his mouth he still looks and acts like Buffalo Bill, tall, handsome, noble in bearing and in action and in thought. No matter how far the anti-hero of a revisionist western departs from the image, the image is always with him. It’s the shadow he casts except when he becomes the shadow cast by the image.
Buffalo Bill didn’t invent the tropes and cliches of the Western but he codified them, clarified them, and set the standards for their presentation. He didn’t personally rewrite the history of the settlement of the American frontier to turn it into the set of self-congratulatory heroic legends and lies that stood in the place of truth in our collective memory for over a century. But his revision of the rewrite brought it all together and because his shows were so “real” and so popular and so widely imitated his story of the Wild West became and has remained the most deeply believed, even by movie directors in the process of debunking it.
We may know it’s not true but we want it to be and the most cynical and revisionist Westerns still express that wish. Nobody can resist the charm and the will of Buffalo Bill.
This isn’t exactly the theme of Robert Altman’s Buffalo Bill and the Indians. It’s more like the given.
For one thing, this theme, for it to be a theme, must include the fact of the audience’s complicity. Wild Windy Bill McKay’s existence depended on our willingness to believe in it and our ability to convince ourselves that we did believe it. There’s no audience complicity in Altman’s film because as far as the script and the camera bother to notice there is no audience.
I mean an audience watching the performances by the members of Buffalo Bill’s troupe depicted in the movie. But the same can be said of the audience watching the movie. Altman, never one to play to his audience’s expectations, seems to have gone out of his way to ignore his audience entirely on this one. He makes no attempt to draw us in, either into the story itself or into the Wild West show. We don’t get to feel what it might have been like to watch these spectacles live. He seems to take it for granted that because we’ve seen all these tricks and stunts a thousand times before we don’t care if we see them again.
Without the audience’s complicity in rewriting history to the point of erasing it and replacing it with myths, legends, and self-serving lies, there’s no real criticism of the process by which a people hide who they really are from themselves.
Which is fine, as long as you understand that Altman didn’t intend to make a movie that was about that.
He didn’t make a revisionist western. He’d already made one of those. McCabe and Mrs Miller. Buffalo Bill and the Indians depends on our having seen that one and others like Little Big Man, Doc, The Wild Bunch, The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean, and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and note who starred in the last two.
But Buffalo Bill and the Indians is still about watching a performance. It’s just that it’s about a single person watching a single person perform with the watcher and the watched being the same single person. Buffalo Bill and the Indians is about Buffalo Bill watching himself being Buffalo Bill.
It’s about a man who has done things that ought to have made him legendary making his living off being not a legend but a fiction. The Buffalo Bill who’s the star of the show, the reason people come to see the Wild West, has nothing in common with the young scout who earned the nickname Buffalo Bill. Bill Cody knows he’s had real adventures that should be famous. But his fortune, his show, his company of cowboys, Indians, trick shot artists, and their families and support staff depend on people paying money to see the phony Buffalo Bill, the one invented to sell dime novels and now tickets. This is not somebody Bill Cody knows or even truly believes exists. It’s no wonder then he’s never sure how to be this Buffalo Bill. He’s always performing, constantly making it up, and it’s not easy. He loses track of the plot. He forgets his lines. He continually finds himself in situations where there’s no way for him to know how “Buffalo Bill” should act or what “he” should say. And he’s not smart enough or quick enough or cynical enough for the job.
Rather than try to keep it all straight in his head, he’s decided it’s easier to just give in and believe he is who he’s pretending to be. He’s found that it helps if he never thinks about it and to that end he spends a lot of his time not thinking.
What we have then is the spectacle of one of the most grounded of movie stars playing a man floating through life on his own hot air. One of the most self-skeptical of movie stars playing a pompous, self-infatuated windbag. One of the smartest actors going playing someone who has made himself willfully dumb. One of the coolest of leading men playing a buffoon.
Paul Newman’s performance as Buffalo Bill is a whole lot of fun to watch.
It’s also kind of sad, and I’m not sure all that sadness sticks only to the character.
But that’s something we can work out in the discussion, which is underway…now.
Friday morning update: Thanks to Michael, Phil, and Bill for making last night’s discussion great. Comment threads on these posts stay open so feel free to chip in anytime.
Next week’s a double-feature, Secret Honor and Streamers, but we’ll be focusing on how filming plays changed Altman’s style going into the 1990s.
And, remember, in two weeks we’ll be doing Popeye, but instead of a formal discussion I’ll be leading the live-blogging. We’ll start the fun earlier that night, at 9 PM Eastern. Mark your calendar and update your Netflix queue.
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Michael Bartley, are you here?
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:03 PM
Your best initial essay in the series so far. Need to think on some of this.
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:06 PM
Just to get the ball rolling, as much as I enjoyed Newman in this movie, my favorite performances are by Burt Lancaster, Joel Gray, and John Consodine, who plays Annie Oakley's husband, Frank Butler.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:07 PM
You've definitely nailed the difference between the Koppit play and Altman's film. The play was a dialogue between Cody and Cody's vision of Sitting Bull. In this version, Sitting Bull is completely mute.
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:09 PM
Considine is very funny. I love how he shows Butler's nerves unraveling through the movie even as Butler forces himself to continue his job as Annie's human target.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:12 PM
Watching Frank and Annie made me homesick for the stage. What actor hasn't felt like his life was in the other actors hand, and how often does it go wrong.
What's geraldine chaplin's relationship to Charlie?
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:12 PM
Thanks, Bill. And welcome back. You know of course that every time I type "Bill" I'm going to think I'm addressing Cody.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:13 PM
I believe she's his daughter by Eugene O'Neill's daughter.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:14 PM
I like the way Considine suggests that he was already growing shaky because Annie was getting more and more ambitious but now he has the additional worry that he knows about his affair with the kitchen girl.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:16 PM
I wish I'd seen a production of Koppit's play. I've only read it. But I think Altman felt a little bad for how far he strayed from it and he used that in Newman's big scene with the Bull's ghost.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:19 PM
By O'Neil and Chaplin. Well that goes a ways towards explaining how she got so much out of a role with nearly no audible lines shot almost entirely in long shot.
Loved the Shelley Duval cameo.
That scene with Cleveland was familiar. I don't need to hear the question to know my answer is no. Sounds like about 40 Senators, one ex VP, and of course the soccer mom from hell.
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:20 PM
You mean hockey mom?
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:23 PM
I think the casting of Burt Lancaster as Ned Buntline, the man who invented Buffalo Bill was perfect, but I'm not sure I've put my finger on exactly why yet.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:25 PM
Koppit was writing a play largely about what happened to the Indians, Altman had a different agenda. He clues us in on that finally in the scene with Cleveland. In a scene where issues could have been discussed, they aren't in an unmistakeable way.
Maybe the Altman film was less about how we got here, and more about where this was leading. A little obscure. I'm not a writer and I have the flu. It will have to stand.
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:25 PM
Lancaster. Probably because everything that he says sounds mythic. When he orders in a resturant, the people around him probably fall silent and take notes.
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:28 PM
Sorry to hear you're not feeling well.
One thing Newman's Cody seems to realize is that the truth as he knows it and lived it and as it's embodied by Sitting Bull lies in the past, which is to say that the truth is over. The future will be all lies. That's personally upsetting for Cody. It's of course Altman's indictment of Nixon's America. By the time he made Buffalo Bill he must have known Reagan was on the way.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:31 PM
I'm here but with a headache that's blurring my vision and computer that's balky as a rank mare. How's that for western night. So, spelling and coherent thoughts may not be possible tonight.
Anyway, great essay. Just as the casting of Newman was essential, even though to some it seems to have violated Altman's troupe tradition, as he needs to have a big star who can carry the weight of BB (even if Newman is clearly against type). Lancaster is great casting because he needs to be the moral center (which is particularly funny when put up with the real life Buntline) of the film and, my geebus, who better than Lancaster.
Also, I love Mr. White in this film. Talk about playing against type. Keitel is hilarious and a sort of co-moral center along with Lancaster and the wonderous Geraldine Page.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:33 PM
Its always struck me how closely related this movie was to Nashville. Both are about the whole canvas, crating lumber and scene paint underpinnings of american myth. Neither rises to the point of being completely critical of it.
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:36 PM
"When he orders in a resturant, the people around him probably fall silent and take notes." Excellent.
Another thing, though, Lancaster was practically the last living connection between Newman's generation of actors and Hollywood's golden age. He was the bridge. So when his Buntline tells Newman's Cody "It was a thrill to have invented you" there's an inside joke.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:37 PM
I think your discussion on past vs. future is interesting. The historical BB is interesting because he is so identified with the mythic past but was, in fact, representitive of the celebrity future.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:38 PM
Also, can't resist but here Bill is sick as well..."we're with you Bill" which is a line from the film that friends and I have used for years whenever we are in a tough spot. Although we've changed it to "we're behind you Bill." Try it sometime it works great.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:41 PM
Micheal, we're the walking wounded here tonight. I'm not feeling so hot either and neither is Bill. But we're tough guys. We'll soldier on so all the lurkers can have something to read.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:42 PM
Asprin and Scotch Mike. The headache will be gone, but the vision might still be blurred.
You're right Newman was essential. I believe it was at a point in his career when he was being heavily typed, and I think he brought that dynamic to the role.
Its curious that Altman made Buntline the moral voice, given that most of the audience would not have know about Buntline, and would not have been aware of the irony.
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:43 PM
Re: Keitel. It's funny to see him playing it so sweet and naive.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:43 PM
BTW, is "moral center" even possible with an Altman movie? Is that too cynical? Hell, I'm contradicting myself.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:46 PM
I love Buntline's line: "When you're out to set the world on fire, always remember who gave you the matches."
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:46 PM
Michael, I have Buffalo Bill's America coming from the library. Have you read The Return of Little Big Man?
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:47 PM
Good idea Bill but I'll go with bourbon.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:48 PM
There's enough in the movie and in Lancaster's performance to hint that Buntline's main claim to being the voice of morality is that he's the only liar in the room who knows he's lying.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:48 PM
Buntline to Cody's partner Nate (Joel Grey): It's my experience that when two partners agree on everything it means one of them is unnecessary.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:50 PM
Yes, but it is one of those novels that left me torn because Little Big Man is one of the all time greats. So, I'm not sure if my hesitation is as a comparison or, simply that I didn't think as highly of it.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:50 PM
I was once asked to teach a American theater history course by a department that didn't know me well enough. I ditched the bad 18th century theater that was an imitation of bad English 18th century theatre, and used the hole I created to teach the Wild West show.
A lot of the forms, conventions, themes and characters that went to make up American film came directly from Bill and small fry that imitated him. When the shows broke up, they all moved to hollywood. The 20th century american theatre is far more influence by film, than by Brecht or Shakespeare.
End of ramble: Its not just celebrity, Buffalo Bill had far more to do with HOW we create our myths than we think.
They nevered hired me to teach Theater history again. There was that Film course . . .
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:52 PM
Little Big Man's one of my favorites too, but I enjoyed Return for what it was. Reason I brought it up though, of course, is that it covers a lot of the same territory as Buffalo Bill and the Indians, but with a lot less cynicism.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:54 PM
I preferred Welch's The Heartsong of Charging Elk.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:54 PM
I wonder if Berger was commenting on Altman's film.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:55 PM
Great great point on Buntline Lance. Bill, I think you might like Louis Warren's BB bio. It is exceptional.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:58 PM
Bill, teaching the Wild West should have gotten you tenure. Do either or you know if there are any movies of the original Wild West floating about? Cody lived until 1914. I think if he could have had his show filmed he'd have done it and directed it himself.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 10:59 PM
Speaking of authors commenting on Altman, Warren, who I respect greatly, comments on the film a couple of times. He doesn't like it. Seems to think that the Indians in the film are naive. I think he gets it completely wrong.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:02 PM
There were movies made. I have seen brief clips. Let me take that on as a search.
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:02 PM
Cody tried to transition to film. I believe he tried to make a move on Wounded Knee but apparently he failed to understand such things as the close up. Everything was shot at a distance replicating his wild west show and missing an essential point of filmaking. There are short grainy remains of film from the actual shows but, sadly, nothing much.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:06 PM
MOVIE...I think you can find the clip online. I've seen it but I can't recall where.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:07 PM
Michael, rewatching the movie I was surprised by how the Indians were almost ignored. You could watch the movie and not know there were any actual Indians in the troupe before the Bull arrives. And Sitting Bull is a reflection of Cody more than he's anything else. Might be better to say he's a mirror or a keyhole into the past. Whatever he's not there as an Indian. He's there as a device.
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:10 PM
PBS, I believe American Experience, had a bio. on Cody and there were clips from his Wounded Knee film as well as a very short shot from the wild west.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:11 PM
Sad. It would have been interesting to have more celluloid. It would have made the path to say -- Die Hard, easier to understand.
I will look at that bio, as well as the other books mentioned. At the moment, I have an early curtain, so I am afraid it is good night.
Posted by: William Rennie | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:14 PM
Night Bill. Thanks for stopping by. And remember. "We're behind you, Bill!"
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:15 PM
One last thing before you go, though, Bill. Did you catch my Bronco Billy reference?
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:16 PM
Well, the Indian treatment is interesting through out. In the opening, when one of the Indians is injured they don't even know his name. Also, I crack up everytime Bill and others says Ladies and Gentleman (pause) Indians or Injuns depending on the speaker. I think Altman is very much in the post-Bury My Heart phase of Americana. His Indians, not the Shoshone perhaps, but Halsey, Sitting Bull and the Lakota are all part of that pendulum swing era of Little Big Man, Soldier Blue, etc. They can cross that river to the rise. I'll think on your point because a question I've always had is the relationship between Halsey and SB. Sitting Bull only speaks once on camera.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:20 PM
We are Bill will surely are. Goodnight.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:21 PM
WE surely are...argh this is getting harder. Wow, spelling going all to hell.
Posted by: Michael Bartley | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:22 PM
Michael, American Experience site has a clip.
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/cody/
Posted by: Lance | Thursday, February 25, 2010 at 11:23 PM