Rio Bravo (1959)

My 27 movie A-Z film-a-thon: day 19.

Rio Bravo (1959)

High Noon ranks among my favorite action movies, so I was curious about Rio Bravo, especially after hearing it described as Howard Hawks’s response to that classic. High Noon follows Sheriff Kane, abandoned by his town as he faces a returning outlaw alone.

Rio Bravo centers on John T. Chance (John Wayne), an unattached sheriff trying to hold a killer in jail while the man’s brother schemes to break him out. Unlike Kane, Chance finds dependable deputies—even if they’re flawed: a drunk, a kid, and an old man.

Where High Noon is an economical thriller, Rio Bravo is a greatest-hits collection of Western tropes. It’s sentimental rather than suspenseful. High Noon pushed the genre forward; Rio Bravo settles into its comforts.
Still, it likely felt very adult for its time. Chance exudes mature, casual masculinity. He drinks beer like water, kisses men on the head to get their help, and handles romantic advances with cool detachment. He’s a man’s man with bigger concerns.

You can tell this is a Howard Hawks film from the rich, natural dialogue—always moving, never cliché. Tropes abound, but they’re delivered with warmth and confidence. The character interactions are lively and, at times, very funny. Misunderstandings unfold like in Bringing Up Baby, with believable conversational stumbles.

Action takes a backseat. There’s a plot ripe for tension, but even the shootouts are relaxed. Characters chat across gunfire like they’d rather swap stories than bullets. The film seems to ask, “Do we really care about the action, or are we here for the company?”

Sometimes it tries a bit hard to be charming. An eight-minute scene has the deputies singing in perfect harmony while one strums a guitar. If White Christmas was made to make my grandma smile ear to ear, Rio Bravo was made to do the same for my grandfather.

There’s no bitter end here. It’s about men reaching understandings, earning respect, and charming the women around them. The film looks gorgeous—great cinematography, sets, and costumes. It’s a template for spaghetti Westerns, minus their grit and thrill. Long, quaint, and precious, Rio Bravo doesn’t transcend its genre, but it’s a polished example of how to do the fundamentals right.

8/10