Review of Johnny Guitar

Cinema, at its core, extends the ordinary into the visionary; the exploration of an era or place that is unknown to us, the spectator, offering escapism into a perspicuous horizon, in this case antiquated, that differs wildly from our own. "Johnny Guitar", although wholly removed from the banalities of the everyday and realistic, scathingly probes modern human conflicts, obsessions and rivalries that simmer beneath the surface of the stoic, granite-jawed patriarchal Western model; these frailties are unearthed in the politically strained, subtext-laden interactions and veiled,  embittered revelations of its fully-realised main characters, all of whom alternately conform to and subvert the sartorial and behavioural ideal of their respective genders. Framework psychologism elevates "Johnny Guitar" beyond mere Hollywood fare, with its defiance of genre conventions and high-art vivid colour patterns, theatrical set pieces and a fractious, emotionally tenuous atmosphere saturated with repressed, undisclosed desire. Vienna, the most masculine and level-headed of female Western heroes, is lusted after by most of her swaggering patrons, with whom she engages in suggestive repartee, leaving local bank owner Emma Small seething with misplaced rage, a feud that builds towards a suitably dramatic climax demonstrating the more predominant components of the genre: hangings, double-crossings and shoot-outs.
"Johnny Guitar" may occasionally submit to the tropes and trappings of its staid genre, but its riveting dialogue, plot mechanisms and subliminal deviations are where its greatness lies, and such twisted beats of aberrant, perplexing drama and psycho-sexual verve assure that its bold, highly stylised quirks coalesce into something inscrutable yet slyly radical. Baroque and nuanced, the undertones permeating each frame warrant repeat viewings, and as such, this decrees "Johnny Guitar", in all of its noir spirit and romanticism, as a daring creative high point of Western cinema.