
If there was ever a filmmaker that warranted a much better reputation than the one he has, it would be Frank Perry. Despite being someone with a keen directorial vision, a strong eye for detail and a forthright dedication to telling memorable stories, he has remained relatively obscure in comparison to some of his contemporaries. Within the industry, he had a decent enough standing to lure some of the biggest stars of the era to be in his films – and while some of this resulted in slightly controversial films, such as Mommie Dearest (perhaps the film that best defines Perry as a filmmaker in terms of reputation, not necessarily talent), they were always intriguing to watch at the best of moments. Rancho Deluxe is one of the many films that he directed, and which hasn’t held much cultural cache outside of those who are either devoted to the director or to the stars of the film. Mercifully, I am an adherent to both Perry and his leading actor Jeff Bridges, so it only seemed logical that my attention would eventually be directed towards this film – and while it is far from the best work for either, it is still a remarkably entertaining, lucid western comedy with a deep sense of humour and an even more acidic worldview, which becomes more clear as we venture further into the strange but hilarious world Perry is putting down for us throughout the film. Hilariously irreverent but grounded in reality in a way that other entries into this genre rarely could achieve, Rancho Deluxe is an unexpectedly delightful treat of a film, with many compelling ideas that are gently and discreetly introduced to the viewer by way of a filmmaker with a precise vision, and the incredible talent to manifest his peculiar ideas without much effort.
One of the reasons the concept of New Hollywood is so popular is precisely because most filmmakers were aiming to take conventions and reconfigure them in a way that suggested that there was a deeper meaning to what the industry had been producing before. Whether this came with breathing new life into genres that had waned in popularity, or entirely reinventing them to the point where entirely new standards were introduced. The western is an example of a genre that was subjected to both, as encapsulated by the idea of the neo-western, films that take the myth of the American West, and filter them through a more contemporary space, whether in setting or the fundamental themes that fuel the story. Rancho Deluxe is the former – a film set on the sprawling plains of the American heartland in the decades following the Second World War (which unexpectedly factors into the film in an oddly humorous way), and which uses its almost vitriolic sense of humour to pull apart the layers of a number of concepts, such as the idea of traditional masculinity, and the corruption that can overtake one’s soul as a result of endless greed that never seems to abate. Thomas McGuane is one of the foremost authorities on the subject of western storytelling (often presenting it with a more sarcastic edge, if not committing to the absurd humour inherent to the genre entirely), so it only makes the screenplay for Rancho Deluxe all the more effective, since it was composed by someone with an integral understanding of both the original genre and the new directions that it was taking, paying tribute to previous works, while forging a path forward, since it is completely unlikely that the glory days of the genre are behind us, leaving a space for a new kind of western narrative, which encapsulates the many fascinating ideas we encounter throughout this film.
Rancho Deluxe is not the first film that moves away from conventions while still acknowledging some of the more important ideas that fuel the genre, nor is it particularly the best. Instead, it occupies a unique space in which the viewer is both warmly invited into this world, and violently rejected, which is the kind of contradiction that made Perry’s films so compelling. Its an undeniably conventional film, and some of its humour is best described as aiming for the low-hanging fruit – but it never promised to be anything else, and many of its ideas draw on the fact that it is relatively conventional in theory, but that its originality is found in the smallest and most seemingly inconsequential details. Perry had a terrific ability to find the humour in any situation (even in his most gravely serious films – not all of them are good, but they are at least interesting in their own way), and the strong foresight to work closely with McGuane, whose screenplay simmers with a unique energy that allows the pair to critically comment on popular ideas, but in a way that was actively engaging and (most importantly) well-constructed, rather than simply being the product of someone trying to make a bawdy comedy disguised as a riveting western drama – if anything, its the other way around, with the complex ideas from which Rancho Deluxe is constructed being carefully concealed underneath layers of risque humour and surreal comedy, which makes for an oddly captivating experiencing that draws us in, while still keeping us at arm’s length, which is fundamental to how the film successfully challenges and reworks a dormant genre and the conventions that went from being the reason they were so enthralling in the first place, to the crutch on which the entire genre was constructed.
One of the most memorable aspects of Rancho Deluxe is that of the cast, which features a wonderful blend of veterans and newcomers. The two leads of the film are a pair of fresh-faced actors known to us as Jeff Bridges and Sam Waterson – neither one of them were making their debut (they were both relatively well-established by this point as promising young actors), and nothing about this film specifically indicates that it was any considerable step forward for either of them. However, they’re clearly having fun, which is a major part of why the film works. It’s a comedy with a vaguely sinister streak, so it was absolutely vital that actors who could both handle the more serious subject matter, but also find the humour in every situation, were selected. The supporting cast is just as good – Slim Pickens is a scene-stealer as the crotchety livestock detective who takes on the case, but is revealed to be more comfortable in an armchair, away from any danger or effort, while Harry Dean Stanton is the quintessential supporting player, not on screen for very long, but who commands it every time he appears with his wonderful everyman persona, while Clifton James is an effective villain, the embodiment of a pathetic man with delusions of grandeur that is supported by his fortune, which was earned through less-than-ideal methods. It’s a great cast, and Perry has always had a good working relationship with his actors, so much that they might not be at their apex here, but at the very least are turning in strong performances that are both hilarious and self-reflective, which is an interesting method to making a film such as this, especially one as seemingly bizarre with its characterization.
It’s not difficult to overlook Rancho Deluxe – it’s the kind of film that feels very much rooted within a recognizable version of reality, but is ignored based on the fact that it doesn’t demand our attention. The premise being about a pair of mischievous cattle rustlers that terrorize a wealthy landowner just because they see it as an entertaining pastime that can have good profits when done well is not one that lends itself to much direct interest in a general sense – but like many of Perry’s films, it works best when we divorce the subject matter from its execution, with his collaboration with McGuane resulting in a hilariously dark and twisted morality tale in which the heroes don’t learn their lesson and the villains manage to succeed. Taken on the surface, Rancho Deluxe is a fun neo-western, but a deeper analysis reveals how the director and writer were working closely together to create a film that questions the fundamental tenets of a genre that often followed a very traditional structure, which is here turned entirely on its head, and presented as a dark and satirical subversion of expectations. It doesn’t demand much from the viewer outside of a little suspension of disbelief and the willingness to just surrender to the absurdity – and the result is something quite entertaining, albeit more slight than it is complex. However, purely on the virtue of entertaining the viewer and provoking a bit of thought, Rancho Deluxe is a genuinely good time, and proof that the most simple stories are almost always the most effective in conveying a particular message, especially through a more comic lens.