J Paul Johnson
Delmer Daves’ 3:10 to Yuma is one of those Westerns with a plot so stunningly simple it allows for all kinds of psychological complexity, character development, moral quandary, and—not unimportantly for a genre film—a handful of riveting action sequences. It’s a simple mission turned into morality play, shot and edited to near-perfect precision by an unheralded craftsman at the top of his game. And while it’s already been for more than a decade one of The Criterion Collection’s better-looking Blu-rays, it’s now also available in a 4K UHD upgrade that goes that earlier edition one half-step better in terms of picture quality.
Some Westerns of the 1950s looked to Technicolor, to widescreen, to epic scope and grand orchestral scores to compete with the new threat of television. Others stayed the course with traditional black and white, smaller scale, and simpler stories intensely focused on psychology and character development. 3:10 to Yuma is more the latter, with a plot as simple as its title implies. Van Heflin plays Dan Evans, a mild-mannered cattle rancher struggling to make ends meet, and so he reluctantly takes gig work: shepherding Glenn Ford’s casually charismatic outlaw Ben Wade to the train—the titular 3:10 to Yuma—that will deliver him to prison. Of course, the simple mission does not go exactly as planned, and turns instead into an escalation of conflicts, taunts, and threats.
Van Heflin’s Dan Evans may be the hero of the piece, but as in so many great films of the 1950s, his is a fragile masculinity. His two boys love him to pieces but witness him powerless when Wade’s crew robs a stagecoach. His wife Alice (Leora Dana), is loving as well but harbors the slightest of dissatisfactions with the humdrum housekeeping to which she is forever consigned: it’s a fissure the canny Wade discerns he can exploit. Like with his role in Shane a few years before this, Van Heflin’s Evans is trying to hold together a fragile homestead: the Evanses lack for water in the wake of a drought, but even more to the point, for Dan’s, like for Shane‘s Joe Starrett, the external conditions expose internal insecurities about his ability to stand up to evil and provide for his family.
Especially in the presence of a handsome gunslinger, except that unlike in Shane, where Alan Ladd’s Shane came to keep peace in the valley, here Glenn Ford’s Ben Wade is a grinning, confident cool-cat of a villain. Leader of a faithful, competent band of outlaws, Wade shows his true colors when he shoots and kills not only a stagecoach driver but one of his own men, deemed at the moment expendable. As sharp as he is with a gun, Wade is even quicker with his wit: once he’s apprehended and in custody, he uses every opportunity to pick at Evans’s insecurities. Money is one, once he learns Evans will pocket $200 for the gig. Wade keeps upping bribes, knowing that every man has his price. Evans’ wife is the other, as Wade brags he could make her happier than Evans ever has.
Ford has rarely been better than as the glib, suave Wade, cocksure and intolerably confident, constantly egging on Evans toward his breaking point. Van Heflin, meanwhile, looks more than a decade older and wearier here than he did as Joe Starret, all bug-eyed, sweaty, disheveled, a bundle of anxieties masked only slightly by a false confidence. Delmer Daves’ direction keeps the mounting tension swift and sure as the fated hour—the departure of the 3:10 to Yuma—approaches. There’s a lot in common with the great High Noon, from the constantly ticking countdown to the cowardly townsfolk and conflicted hero to the menace of the baddies, and like in that classic, Daves’ climax does not disappoint: the two men’s conflict takes them into a fog of chiaroscuro smoke obscuring them from their pursuers and in a way bonding them more as one than as adversaries.
Criterion touts this edition of 3:10 to Yuma as featuring a new 4K digital restoration undertaken by Sony Pictures and created from the 35mm original negative, but credits the restoration supervision, just as they did with the 2013 Blu-ray, to Grover Crisp. I am not certain that the restoration is “new,” then, except for its being distributed now on 4K UHD disc. The picture quality is spectacular, a modest uptick from the already-excellent Blu-ray version with impressive detail in close-ups and extreme wide angles, interiors and exteriors, action and dialogue sequences alike. Both an uncompressed monaural constituted from several sources including vinyl recordings of the musical score, and an alternate 5.1 surround soundtrack, presented in DTS-HD Master Audio, are available. As is usual for Criterion, the 4K UHD version is presented on one disc; a second presents the film and special features.
Special Features
Elmore Leonard. Commissioned back in 2013 for Criterion’s Blu-ray edition of 3:10 to Yuma, this 13-minute segment features the author reminiscing about the origins of his story, Delmer Daves’ direction of the adaptation, and even the the 2007 James Mangold remake–about which Leonard has a few choice words for the ending. The interview takes place at Leonard’s home in Detroit and is supplemented with magazine art, publicity stills, and video clips from the film. No subtitles for the Deaf or hard of hearing are made available.
Peter Ford. Also produced in 2013 for the prior Criterion Blu-ray, this 16-minute segment features the son of actor Glenn Ford and the author of Glenn Ford: A Life commenting on his father’s life, career, and legacy. The younger Ford is full of insightful and funny anecdotes, one involving his father, Rita Hayworth, Orson Welles, and a gun. Both this and the Leonard segment are delightful and instructive. No subtitles are available—a longstanding and outdated policy of Criterion’s which requires reconsideration. In fact, I can’t even see a way of toggling subtitles on the main feature on the Blu-ray disc, at least not without a dedicated subtitle button on the remote control; the disc has no menu option to do so.
Also included in the double-disc clear jewel case packaging is a 20-page black-and-white booklet (also the same as the prior Blu-ray edition) featuring several production stills and an insightful essay, “Curious Distances,” examining Daves’ career in light of the auteur theory that was of his moment but not in his corner.
Given that this particular “special edition” is, frankly, one of Criterion’s least special efforts in terms of supplements, one can be forgiven for wanting a bit more in an upgrade edition. Including Leonard’s relatively short (it’s only some 15 pages in most editions) short story, or an audio recording thereof, would be instructive. That’s something we used to see a bit more of from Criterion but seems rare today. An audio commentary from a scholar examining the careers of the principals Daves, Ford, and Heflin would make for an excellent addition. But there’s nothing new here—not subtitles for the supplements and certainly no new content to enrich our developing understanding of Daves’ career, one certainly more complex and arresting than first thought.
Like has been the case with most of the Collection’s other 4K UHD upgrades, what is new here is the 4K remastering and restoration itself. And while it’s as handsome and faithful a remastering as one can imagine given extant source material, restoration techniques, and current display technologies, it’s all that is new here. (And the 2013 Blu-ray was largely seen as nothing short of spectacular beforehand, certainly sufficient for many.)
The bottom like here is that 3:10 to Yuma is a marvelous, character-driven Western film with some great action pieces. And in this new 4K UHD remaster it looks, and sounds, as impressive as one can imagine. Criterion’s special edition is less fulsome in supplements, though, than many of the company’s offerings, and this upgrade edition offers no new content. Those looking for their first purchase of 23:10 to Yuma should certainly consider this edition if their home systems are of a quality sufficient to display the 4K restoration in its intended glory. Otherwise, one won’t miss a thing in purchasing the prior 2013 Blu-ray.
