Best Western (not a movie review!)

El Dorado is one of the best westerns there is. I like westerns. I like them because they teach me about life and how to live it. Here is how they do it.

First off, westerns tell stories of good and evil. They are complex tales of a simple conflict—just like life on this planet. No western is ever simple. In fact, the best ones place their heroes in unthinkably harrowing physical and moral dilemmas, often pitting survival against a principle. If you were sheriff of a fledgling western town, the one everyone looked to for protection, would you risk your life to fight a gang of outlaws for the sake of the town? What if your family’s lives were at stake? What if you could pay the outlaws money to go on to the next town? Would you do it? Here is what is great about westerns—they not only show us conflict between good and evil, but they show us what heroes do when placed in those conflicts. They show us the true courage, the selfless sort of bravery that risks life and limb to protect men and morals alike. This is a state of mind that is sorely missing in today’s society, and I sometimes fear we are losing our ability to even recognize it when we see it.

That is one reason westerns are great—they show us great evil vanquished by determined heroes in emotionally-charged settings. They call us to be heroes.
Secondly, westerns often demonstrate another often neglected value, that of common sense. How does John Wayne know that there are gunmen hiding outside the saloon? It’s not that unrealistic; he has experienced similar situations and observed carefully, and he has the presence of mind to apply those lessons to his current situation. If only we could be as on the ball as John Wayne’s characters are! How great we would be, how effective our lives would become, if we would only remind ourselves more often of the great truth—if we don’t act on what we learn, the knowledge does us no good at all.

John Wayne’s seemingly invincible characters preserve their lives by yet another valid real-world conviction—it is entirely okay, and sometimes praiseworthy, to not trust someone at all. Some people cannot be trusted; to trust such no-accounts, particularly with one’s or another’s life, contradicts Christ’s command in Matthew 7: "Do not give what is holy to dogs, or throw your pearls before swine, lest they trample them underfoot, and turn and tear you to pieces.”
To continue this digressive focus on John Wayne, his characters are never ashamed of themselves. This unconquerable confidence may be aided by the Duke’s imposing 6’4½” stature, but ladies and gents of all shapes and sizes have something to learn from him. The size of the dog in the fight, as they say, is not nearly as important as the size of the fight in the dog. Such a maxim ought to remind us that Wayne’s stature was largely (no pun intended) irrelevant to his imposing presence. After all, a 7 foot weenie will not make as big a splash as a 5 foot dynamo. The frame of the physical puppet which we command is only as good as the artist pulling the strings.

But back to the matter at hand, Wayne never feels shame. Why is this? Well, I see two reasons. First, he is confident, in the most admirable and exemplary way—he knows what’s right, and he stands for it, unwaveringly. Secondly, he does all the right things. In short, he has the right to be confident!
On to our final point—westerns, like life, find their biggest turning points in split-second decisions and acts of quick thinking. In any good western, the hero will eventually be called upon to make a huge decision in mere seconds, perhaps one solitary second. How can someone make the right choice when put on the spot? For someone who fails such a fast-paced test, could we not give them the benefit of the doubt, could we not assume that they would take the right action, if only given more time to think? Whether or not we could be so generous matters not at this moment—what matters is that life rarely offers us such drawn-out dilemmas!

Decisions of destiny are made on the spot, under pressure. In order to make them well, we need to train ourselves to have presence of mind, just like John Wayne and all the other good cowboys do. Theodore Roosevelt, that great spirit who once lived a true cowboy’s life in the real West, when it was actually Wild, wisely said that “In any moment of decision the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing.” Presence of mind and right thinking under pressure are key to a good life. Westerns cannot teach us this—the practice courts of everyday life are far better suited to this than any feature film—but they can inspire us to practice in everyday life. And perhaps, with regular inspiration and even more regular practice, we will join the ranks of those great spirits who, in Roosevelt’s words, can “quell the storm and ride the thunder.”