A Young Man and His Vengeance

It's strange how Steve McQueen could seem like a wide-eyed innocent and a stone cold badass at the same time. In 1966's Nevada Smith, he plays a young man who sets out to methodically avenge the murder of his parents. His character provides a solid anchor for an engrossing western.

Max (McQueen) guilelessly gives directions to three men on horseback (Karl Malden, Martin Landau, and Arthur Kennedy), never guessing they plan on mutilating and murdering his parents. We catch a brief glimpse of how they skin his Kiowa mother alive but mostly what they do is left to our imagination.

Their excuse is they think Max's father has a secret stash of gold somewhere. How can this movie have a message about how vengeance is wrong? Well, it really doesn't. Max encounters a priest later in the film who firmly discourages Max from tracking down the final member of the trio but Max doesn't seem much impressed and neither would any viewer be.

At the same time, it's just the story of a young man setting out independently for the first time. He has the good fortune to run into a mentor, Jonas Cord (Brian Keith), who teaches him how to shoot with the sun in his eyes and advises him he'll need to get used to frequenting saloons and brothels to find the kind of men he's looking for. People warn him he'll turn into the same kind of man he's hunting but his heart is too steadfast for that.

Suzanne Pleshette has a small love interest role as a prostitute Max falls for when he's on a chain gang in a swamp. She likes him back but she doesn't understand his need for vengeance.

The end of the film is somewhat conflicted in its message but for the most part this is an unapologetic revenge fantasy. And it's oddly but agreeable cosy.

Twitter Sonnet #1527

The last equation fit the brilliant box.
Resourceful shoes advanced beyond the bank.
I asked a student late of purchased socks.
Despair beneath the valiant rider sank.
We quite the questions grown in marble black.
To tame a lion pocket, stitches cross.
Enduring sleep was dark within the sack.
Collected eyes behold a train of loss.
They didn't drink the stream when fast it ran.
The stranger guessed a creature near the gold.
His suit was six or seven kinds of tan.
The waiting wolf allows its hand to fold.
The fire bends across a dusty hull,
Careening inland, sailors stole a skull.