‘It’s what people know about themselves inside that makes ’em afraid...’
When High Plains Drifter began with Clint Eastwood materialising on the outskirts of a ramshackle town in the old West before silently riding through main street while everyone gawped at him I thought I knew what I was in for. This is not quite The Man with no Name, but Eastwood’s character here is simply credited as ‘The Stranger’. He has the stubble. The cigars. The hat. And yet, this is not at all like Eastwood’s earlier work in the spaghetti westerns that made him an icon…
Upon arrival, The Stranger soon takes over the town and offers the simple townsfolk protection against three criminals who are due to be released after being locked up for a year for killing the previous sheriff (they whipped him to death – which gives you some insight into how dark this film is tonally). So far, so Clint. From there, however, the film soon becomes something else entirely.
Firstly, whilst having moments of heroism Eastwood’s character here is no hero. He rapes a woman within the first ten minutes of the film. He steals from and belittles the townsfolk. He takes what he wants and gives them very little in return. This all builds to an exquisite conclusion that I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years based on the film’s cleverly concealed opening act. This is Eastwood taking everything that made him an icon in the first place and twisting it and contorting it into something familiar and yet unrecognisable. It is this desire to do something new that has ensured that Eastwood has remained relevant across six decades as both an actor and a director.
High Plains Drifter was Eastwood’s second directorial effort (after Play Misty for Me) and it demonstrates not just his competence but also his ability to shock as a director. He may have been fairly predictable as an actor but his work behind the camera is much more creative than people give him credit for.
