Unsung Heroes #002: Ben Foster in 3:10 To Yuma
TV and movie performances that don’t get the love they deserve.
In the mostly unexceptional 2007 western 3:10 To Yuma, director James Mangold pulls off a genuine feat of filmmaking, simultaneously bringing non-histrionic performances out of Christian Bale and Russell Crowe. As struggling rancher Dan Evans, Bale is stoic and steady, while Crowe gives a cheeky turn as warm hearted multi-murderer Ben Wade, who like stealin’ and shootin’, but also, for some reason, drawin’. The Elmore Leonard source material makes for a fine plot, but the two leads give you more to shrug about than really care for.
Thank goodness, then, for Ben Foster, whose gunslinging Charlie Prince brings a degree of blood and grit that often feels lacking in a movie with plenty of bodies but little meaning to the violence and gunplay. Foster is a coiled spring of an actor, not the most physically imposing but able to imbue his performances with immense amounts of threat and tension. From Hell Or High Water’s hotheaded Tanner Howard to his man on the edge performance as Lance Armstrong in The Program (for which he juiced up for real, presumably ruling himself out of Oscar contention in the process), he guarantees tension if not explosions whenever he’s cast.
3:10 To Yuma’s plot sees Evans join a posse to bring captured criminal Ben Wade to the town of Contention so that the blackhat can be placed on the titular prison bound locomotive. This gives the writers plenty of scope for semi-effective character building moments between our leads, as we essentially spin our wheels (or hooves) en route to the inevitable endpoint. Between these scenes, though, are the often more interesting scenes in which Prince and the rudderless crew track down their incarcerated leader.
Foster’s innate menace and convincing intensity make him feel far more present a threat than the ostensible antagonist Ben Wade, even though he’s missing for great swathes of the film. While Crowe’s character is given tacked on moments of humanity (he likes sketching wildlife! He’s fairly nice to a woman with tuberculosis at one point!), Prince is sinister to the core, from his oddly croaking voice to his introductory scene, shooting Peter Fonda’s pinkerton in the gut for the mildest of insults.
And yet he’s by no means a one dimensional henchman. His sheer devotion to Ben Wade feels a fresh approach, a far cry from the scheming, ambitious second in command we’ve come to expect in this type of picture. Foster looks at Crowe with a worshipful gaze, and is zealous in his desire to restore his boss to the top of the tree. The script skimps on detail as to just how and why Wade has become such a fearsome figure of the old west. It’s Foster’s sense of awe that helps to elevate the character.
3:10 To Yuma’s joint billing of two major stars is supposed to have the feel of a John Ford-era classic, a pair of cinematic titans going mano a mano like Wayne and Stewart. Perhaps the two leading men are too polite to grab the limelight, or just stuck with underwritten characters, but the outlaw Ben Foster easily rustles the movie away from them.
