Just got an e-mail today from a reader (not of West Oversea, but of The Year of the Warrior) who thanked me for it somewhat ruefully. This person said that the story had given them the courage to turn down an employment opportunity which would have involved violating their conscience.

I am not a good enough man to have this effect on people.

I saw the movie, “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford,” on DVD over the weekend. It’s one of those movies that got dynamite reviews but never received the distribution it deserved. And it must be admitted that it’s not popcorn fare.

I read the book it was based on, written by Ron Hansen, way back in the ’70s, when it first came out. As best as I can tell at this distance, the movie follows the novel pretty closely.

Casey Affleck plays Robert Ford, “the dirty little coward” of the famous song. He starts out as an outlaw groupie, a teenager who, along with his brother, joins the James gang at a time when it’s on the skids and having trouble attracting good talent. He is loud in his proclamations of devotion to the James brothers, which only disgusts brother Frank (who soon departs, not to be seen again), and bemuses Jesse (Brad Pitt, in one of his good performances).

It seems to me that the depiction of outlaw life in this film may be the most authentic ever filmed, in its way. Concern over being caught by lawmen doesn’t actually loom very large in the plot. The real danger is from one’s fellow gang members. These are lowlifes, profane and cruel men who live for the moment, take offense easily, and whose loyalties are never certain. Jesse, more than anyone, has made paranoia a way of life. The moment he seems friendliest is likely to be the moment he’s decided he doesn’t trust you anymore, and he’ll have to dispose of you.

Eventually it becomes clear to Bob (although he’s never entirely sure) that Jesse means to kill him. But there’s something else there too—what seems like a death wish on Jesse’s part—as if he’s begging the Ford brothers to put him out of the misery of this dog’s life.

It shouldn’t be a spoiler, if you know any western history, to report that Bob Ford does just that. Then follow the consequences, which are no more glorious than the assassination.

There’s no romance here (though the photography is gorgeous). It’s a sordid story about sordid men, and a meditation on crime and violence and the fickleness of public opinion. It’s a very good movie (for grownups), and I recommend it.