Viggo Mortensen’s sophomore feature follows in the footsteps of his debut, FALLEN. Once again, he writes, directs, composes, and stars – though the last hat – as he explained in a Q&A following the UK premiere screening at Glasgow Film Festival – was one he donned to get the film moving once secure funding. THE DEAD DON’T HURT is a clear labour of love and a throwback to an earlier era of Western, for better and worse.
The film begins with the death of Vivienne Le Coudy (Vicky Krieps), who is married to Sheriff Holger Olsen (Mortensen) and lives in the mountainous southern California desert with their son. Meanwhile, Weston Jeffries (Solly McLeod) shoots up a saloon, kills Sheriff Olsen’s deputy, and rides out of town. As the film unfolds across at least three timelines in flashback – never once becoming confused, to Mortensen’s credit as writer and Peder Pedersen’s as editor – their lives are shown to be irrevocably linked.
As in many golden age Westerns, certain types and actions are given to the men and the women, and framing two primary timelines through Vivienne’s eyes does not entirely erase the very traditional story role she carries. Much is made of Vivienne’s suffering at the hands of men and the wilderness (which Krieps, ever magnificent, plays with dignity and pathos), though her French childhood as the Joan of Arc-obsessed daughter of French separatists adds historical depth. In this space, and one character’s behaviour after a crucial reveal, a more interesting film is perhaps buried in the plot here – one that holds the basic structure and shape but gives its characters less expected paths to the same ends.
Mortensen slips easily into the supporting role in this partnership, playing Olsen’s sense of justice – for himself, his family, and his adoptive country – as both his blessing and burden. Everyone who has watched the DVD special features for the LORD OF THE RINGS knows that Mortensen is very fond of his horses, and they are the other stars of this film, worked into the mechanics of this growing settlement, giving scope to how isolated they are from the rest of American society. McLeod holds his own admirably in one of his first leading screen roles, unafraid to go big and ugly. The supporting cast features a delightful almost-cameo from Colin Morgan doing his best posh fop impression and Danny Huston as the community’s corruptible mayor.
Mortensen and his Director of Photography, Marcel Zyskind, know how to make the most of their locations and lighting, vistas unfolding with the genre’s signature romanticism. The camera movements aim at naturalism, mirroring the movement of a newcomer’s eyes across unfamiliar spaces and rooms, but the lurches are distracting.
While perhaps treading no new material (and some material that the Western genre has long left behind), THE DEAD DON’T HURT is a handsome, old-fashioned Western anchored by excellent performances.