High Noon

A terrific piece of filmmaking. It's taut, believable as it unspools. It's charismatic, with a slow buildup of tension in near-real time that finally explodes into a blast of violence.

Not a frame is wasted in this taut, superbly directed, masterfully acted film, the first so-called "adult Western." (Review of Original Release)

The Western may be one of the few truly American art forms, and High Noon shows exactly how much potential it can embrace.

Meaningful in its implications, as well as loaded with interest and suspense, High Noon is a western to challenge “Stagecoach” for the all-time championship. (Review of Original Release)

Cooper does an unusually able job of portraying the marshal. (Review of Original Release)

Possibly the most Rorschachian film of all time, a symbol-only text that effortlessly conforms to any political present, and finds a foothold in your social sphere whether you're a free radical or reactionary wing nut.

Some of the results ring false, but the memorable theme song and some equally memorable character acting (by Thomas Mitchell and Lon Chaney Jr. more than Lloyd Bridges and Katy Jurado) help things along.

The residents of a small desert town debate the cost of tranquility in Fred Zinnemann’s moody, simmering western. In it, we find an illusory peace: while the sleepy community goes about its business, a haggard old marshal, newly married, prepares to lay down his badge and pursue retirement. An out-of-town pardon spoils the impending honeymoon, and rumors of the freed scoundrel’s imminent return trigger a sense of duty in the old lawman. This fresh parolee was his signature conviction, a low-down scoundrel who once ruled the town, and it’d taken the aid of its whole population to get the job done. Seeking similar support now, he’s flummoxed by the people’s complacency. Many seem too comfortable to remember the bad times, while still others are eager to get back to the more exciting, dramatic (and, sometimes, profitable) ways of old. Urged to cut his losses and go, resented for his dull manner and determined adherence to the rules, he refuses to walk the easier path and chooses instead to face the music. One man’s obstinacy against the void. Interesting to see an older cowboy flick that doesn’t rely on dust, mesas and gunsmoke. We get little slices of each, and of course there’s no way that final confrontation will go down without a few whizzing bullets, but the primary focus is on the town’s guilty conscience. They know they’re doing their marshal dirty, hanging him out to dry, and while he’s earned his share of opponents over the years, he’s also widely acknowledged as the main reason life is now clean and safe in this little burg. Their answers were different when life was harder, with the promise of a brighter tomorrow more enviable and worthier of a fight. Now, though? Actually living in that peaceful future and being asked to risk life, limb and security to stare down a less demonstrable threat? That’s a tougher argument, especially when muddied by other, unrelated quibbles. Their Rome is facing the torch, but these folks are willing to risk it all because they’re still sore about the equivalent of a parking ticket. Zinnemann does a fine job of exploring that mood. Dwelling in the arguments, the chatter and the gossip, he shows us all manner of heroism and cowardice, flawed saviors and justified antagonists. The casting of towering former star Gary Cooper helps immeasurably. As the determined old marshal, Cooper projects proud determination and puzzled vulnerability. A relic who can’t comprehend the changing attitudes around him, his raging inner conflict is only barely restrained. We see the evidence in his posture, his pained squint and his furrowed brow. Cooper may look old enough to be the father of his new bride (Grace Kelly), but that’s more a critique of her casting than his. And besides, significant age discrepancies weren’t exactly unheard-of in those days. High Noon is a darn good western, but also a practical example of the American dilemma, one that’s as applicable today as it was in the ’50s. Screenwriter Carl Foreman, a target of HUAC who refused to name names, would be blacklisted after this film. How much comfort would the viewer be willing to sacrifice in the name of liberty?

One of the top of the genre. Tight meaningful story (almost in real time), drama, suspense and incredible Gary Cooper.

Fun original song, simple concept but well characterized. Good shootout for 1952. Nothing really groundbreaking here.

Classic oater, whose primary strength is character, not action. Gary Cooper's best performance as a man torn between duty and happiness, torn between doing what's right or taking the easy way out. Bonus fun : the tension mounts in real time

D'habitude, les westerns de cette époque, on s'en approche avec précaution et on les regarde avec parcimonie : ils en effet tendance (à moins que ce ne soit un don, qui sait...) à vous assommer en moins d'un quart d'heure, voire beaucoup moins pour les pires. Puis, vous dormez du sommeil du juste comme une masse. Mais John Wayne n'est pas là, ceci expliquant cela sans doute. C'est le gars Gary Cooper qui s'y colle. Ainsi qu'une blonde aux traits si délicats, au port altier et à la silhouette si gracieuse que je n'ai pas percuté tout de suite... oui, c'est Grace ! ("Graisse" en anglais mais ça ne lui va pas, je préfère Grâce). Donc, voici que le machin en noir et blanc et en quatre tiers démarre quasiment sur les chapeaux de roue : un truand que notre Gary "marshal" a mis en taule, a été relâché et arrive par le train de midi pétante (SNCF, c'est possible...) attendu par trois de ses sbires malfaisants dont on reconnaît l'un à ses traits acérés et son regard cruel : Lee Van Cleef ! Des plans à intervalles plus ou moins réguliers sur l'horloge nous rappellent que les quatre vilains seront en ville dans un peu plus d'une heure. Cependant, les rats quittent le navire, les collègues ont piscine et même Grace lâche ce mari décidément suicidaire... Le film n'est pas trop long et sait entretenir la tension (et l'attention) même si ça blablate beaucoup et même si la bagarre avec Lloyd Bridges est grotesque... Mais du coup, lorsque le tchou-tchou arrive enfin, on reste sur notre faim et notablement déçu par la fin : peu vraisemblable, un peu expédiée et mal **** pour tout dire. Mais pour un western de cette époque, ce n'est clairement pas si mal... malgré la musique qui ressasse cet air casse-burnes et cette chansonnette de merde (en français dans la VF !).