Hi-Lo Country

Billy Crudup (Without Limits) plays Harrelson's best pal, just returned to New Mexico from service in World War II with hopes of starting a cattle ranch free from the greedy clutches of a local rancher (Sam Elliott) who dominates the town of Hi-Lo like a bootclad kingpin. Harrelson joins in the effort, but tensions rise when he connects with the sultry seductress (Patricia Arquette) with whom Crudup has fallen inexplicably in love. Harrelson has provoked others as well, and he seems primed for a fall, but The Hi-Lo Country is a film out of balance. Memorable moments are found in abundance, and the film's period detail is impeccable, but Crudup's character is so underwritten and underplayed that his role as narrator and ostensible hero has minimal dramatic impact. By the time fate deals its inevitable blow, it's too late to care. Frears has suffered from similar missteps before (remember Mary Reilly?), and The Hi-Lo Country leaves you wondering what Peckinpah might have done with the novel he so dearly admired. --Jeff Shannon

Director Stephen Frears opposes in HI-LO COUNTRY these two different ways of life that can't live together. Curiously enough, the new generation is prompter to use guns in order to solve problems and young senoritas are far more rational than the sons of John Wayne. But one thing doesn't change in the turmoil of time : nature and its breath-taking beauty.

HI-LO COUNTRY is a beautiful movie, an out of time movie which can reconcile you with true cinema. Note the wonderful musical score which explores with subtlety different atmospheres : country-music, folkloric tunes and lyrical LEGENDS OF THE FALL-like themes.

A DVD for your library.


Harrelson's Best Performance   April 14, 2001
Reviewer
6 out of 6 found this review helpful

This character study, set in New Mexico in the early `40s, begins with an enigmatic narrative that infuses "The Hi-Lo Country," directed by Stephen Frears, with a tension that ultimately runs high throughout the entire film. The story focuses on the friendship between a couple of cowboys, Pete Calder (Billy Crudup) and Big Boy Matson (Woody Harrelson), who upon returning from the war are trying to make a go of the cattle business, while bucking some stiff competition from the local cattle baron, Jim Ed Love (Sam Elliott). At the same time, Pete becomes aware that he is not alone in his obsession with a married woman, Mona (Patricia Arquette); Big Boy has it bad for her, too, and she just happens to be the wife of Jim Ed's foreman, Les Birk (John Diehl). And, as usually happens with a situation involving obsession, things quickly begin to get sticky for all concerned. Big Boy, it seems, is the one headed for trouble; he's hot-tempered, stubborn, and fearless to a point bordering on stupidity. Pete, on the other hand, has a good head on his shoulders and has a couple of things going for him: One is a woman named Josepha (Penelope Cruz), who cares deeply for him, and the other is his unwavering loyalty to Big Boy. The tension continues to mount, and the situation is complicated further by the fact that Big Boy isn't exactly discreet about his feelings for Mona, nor of his disdain for Jim Ed Love, for whom his younger brother, Little Boy (Cole Hauser) now works. Inevitably, things come to a head; but when it happens, the arena in which it transpires is something of a surprise, though not entirely unexpected.

Frears does a good job of capturing the essence of another time and place that seems so near and yet so far away. The world was changing around them, but in the Hi-Lo country there were still cowboys who punched cattle and drove the herd to market on horseback. Theirs is a fairly self-contained world, far removed from anything that is happening elsewhere; if a butterfly flaps it's wings in New York, it isn't going to affect Pete or Big Boy. Frears takes a look at the difference between the two men, Big Boy, who lives primarily for the moment (or so it would seem), and Pete, who is more apt to consider the consequences of his decisions, except, that is, when it comes to Mona. But even in that respect, it's Pete who ultimately shows some restraint. And Frears maintains the tension by keeping the situation between the men and Mona precariously balanced on the fence. You know that someone is bound to fall, but you don't know who it will be, where or when.

Crudup is convincing as Pete, bringing him to life with a reserved, understated performance. He brings an intelligent and introspective quality to the character that leads you to believe that Pete is always cognizant of what is going on around him, and where it's all heading. With Big boy, on the other hand, you never know if he's ever really aware of his situation, or if he just doesn't care. As Big Boy, Harrelson gives what may be his best performance ever. His portrayal is that of a true, rugged individual who keeps his deepest feelings to himself, but just may be a bit more savvy than he lets on. Initially, it appears that Big Boy and Pete are opposite sides of the same coin, but in the end you realize that they are not so different from one another after all.

As Mona, Arquette gives a somewhat subdued performance. Though attractive, she doesn't exactly exude the kind of sensuality that would seemingly elicit the obsessiveness of the men that is called for by the story, especially in Pete's case. Knowing what you know about the characters involved, it is hard to believe that Pete would look past the lovely and more alluring Josepha for even a second glance at Mona.

The supporting cast includes James Gammon (Hoover), Darren E. Burrows (Billy), Lane Smith (Steve) and Jacob Vargas (Delfino). A good, solid drama, "The Hi-Lo Country" may not be entirely original, but Frears has a nice touch and gives it a sense of realism that will get you emotionally involved with the characters and their story. And, upon reflection, it's a glimpse of a world that not that long ago was so much bigger than it is today.


A Blank Spot on the Map   January 11, 2003
Douglas Doepke (Claremont, CA United States)
4 out of 4 found this review helpful

The plot may creak a bit, but the film itself remains a superbly done period piece. It is Northeastern New Mexico, circa 1945, and the prairie vistas are wide open with an unbounded sense of freedom, but one that stretches out to monotonously barren horizons. Homesteading cattle is no easy task in the hardpan Hi-Lo country, and certainly no place for the Hollywood glamor factory. Except for a few questionable touches (Sam Elliott's leering villian, for one), the viewer gets a real sense of time and place, and of what goes on with the hard-bitten folks living there. The movie's core, however, remains Woody Harrelson's Big Boy whose boisterously callous behavior develops so slyly, you may not notice your own shifting responses. The jut-jawed Harrelson is near perfect, as are the cow town atmospherics with their smoky Saturday night honky-tonk. Seldom has anyone gotten a cowboy so right, and seldom has any film blended landscape of place with landscape of character more successfully than this one. Both demonstrate how sheer surface expanse can overwhelm frail emotional depth. Martin Scorese ( a most unlikely source for a Western theme) was a background producer, and I suspect it is he we have to thank for getting this very non-commercial story onto the video screen. Stephen Frears directs at a leisurely but revealing pace, allowing the occasional quiet but necessary moment to creep in. This minor gem should satisfy anyone curious about those obscure backwaters of the American West that appear mysteriously as blank spots on the road map. Despite undeniable concessions, Hi-Lo Country remains truer to its prosaic sources than the mock heroics and contrived mayhem of the traditional western, and is thus well worth a look see. Give it a try.


This is a brilliant movie.   August 9, 1999
David W. Lee (Edmond, OK USA)
3 out of 3 found this review helpful

This movie stands shoulder to shoulder with "Giant" and "The Last Picture Show." Woody Harrelson has a power that matches any male performance, anytime, anywhere. This is twentieth-century Texas and New Mexico, as anyone who is familiar with that region will know. The dialogue is at all times poetic and haunting, particularly the barroom scene where "Big Boy" speaks with Greek eloquence about the "bottom" possessed by a Bucephalas-like horse named "Old Sorrel."

It is inexplicable why this movie is not being spoken of as a great classic.

David W. Lee leelawok@ionet.net