Walker trudges through the shadow of the valley of Death but he fears no evil...because he is the evil. He is a vengeful spirit whose very name implies motion, and though he demands his $93,000 his war is not with a single man, but an ideal. And it’s a war he cannot win. Walker is led by his Virgil, a guide through the fractured maze of his quest, and even this companion proves duplicitous and part of the inner circle of Walker’s Hell. There is no epiphany for our protagonist, only narcissistic justifications as he acknowledges that the people who betrayed him were once his friends, until he descends full circle toward a nihilistic fate and becomes a shadow. Even the film's title is a double entendre, as its meaning refers to very close range or, apropos to the dream-like quality of this tale, a tabula rasa of our protagonist's raison d’etre.
The plot: Walker (Lee Marvin) is double crossed and shot down, left for dead by his wife and best friend, his $93,000 now forfeit. But he survives and stalks those responsible, seeking monetary reimbursement over retribution but he discovers that those responsible are just cogs in a faceless machine. But did he survive? John Boorman crafts violent poetry, transforming this boilerplate scenario into a spiritual travelogue. He minimizes establishing shots and transitions, utilizing flash-forward and flash-back compositions to disorient and confuse, showing us Walker’s perspective instead of telling us exposition: it’s a puzzle without edge pieces. DP Philip Lathrop’s use of color and shadow is brilliant, a chiaroscuro technicolor nightmare. The sound design and editing also convey the narrative ambiguity, as Walker’s experiences may only be happening in his death dream, as he lies dying in a crumbling prison cell in Alcatraz.
The acting is first rate as Lee Marvin’s stone-cold stare and explosive outbursts are offset by the peripheral cast, who become the ghosts of his destructive journey. Keenan Wynn as Yost, his mysterious guide, is taciturn and ethereal, appearing without explanation. Angie Dickinson is Chris, Walker’s sister-in-law, a woman of compassion and strength but ultimately helpless to her paramour. In one great scene, she pummels Lee Marvin, slapping his face, pushing and punching his chest, until she falls exhausted to the floor. This scene last nearly a full minute and Lee Marvin doesn’t blink, and Angie Dickinson didn’t pull her punches. Wow.
Walker’s beginning comes to an end, where his peregrinations were birthed in gunpowder, betrayal and bloodshed. The money delivered like mana from the heavens lies in a circle of light, untouched by Walker as Yost with his deadly henchman offer employment before walking away. His Pyrrhic victory is a fade to black without profit, a purgatory. Is he destined to repeat this performance for eternity?
Final Grade: (A)
