Other Critters Worth Cash Money When Skinned

I sit down from time to time, usually after I've just accidentally killed one of the myriad deer roaming the New Jersey frontier, or gazed upon the mounds and mounds of garbage lining the streets of New York, and I let out a tear very similar to the one that only a truly downtrodden Indian can feel:

Then, I turn on Jeremiah Johnson, and I realize he's not crying about pollution-he's crying because Robert Redford led an army through his sacred burial ground. This happens usually once or twice a week.

Clearly, the genius of Sydney Pollack that would one day produce Dustin Hoffman in a dress was hard at work when he blessed us with this face plant into the wild west. Immediately, the audience is made aware of just how epic their experience is about to become with an overture that blows my mind each and every time. It speaks to me deeply and succinctly, saying "Goddamn your popcorn and your Raisinettes-if you so much as crinkle a wrapper I will shred your fingertips with a cheese grater". And I listen. I empty my bowels, put my film viewing robe on, dim the lights and restart the film.

After the overture, the song gets even better, and that's because now, instead of just the instrumental frontier music, we're given a frontier narration, about a young man who goes by the name of Jeremiah:

As beautiful a man as he might be, the Robert Redford we're supposed to be doing a character study on is not what one would call an impressive sight. Sure, it looks like he was in charge of something in the past with a cap as ridiculous as that, but for all we know he was a train conductor who decided that the pin he found in a thrift store in The Village would like nice on his hat. He probably has a hole punch in his shirt pocket like the rest of his NJ Transit team.

Of course, that must be why he can't fish, and the best luck he stumbles upon is finding a dead guy who happens to be frozen to a gun. Thankfully, he subsequently stumbles across Bear Claw, played by Will Geer, who happens to be completely out of his well-bearded skull. This is the point in the story where I would have opened my Raisinettes if the movie hadn't yelled at me earlier, but that is absolutely fine by me, because I get to bring my full attention to the short documentary on bushy beard growing that the Bear Claw related scenes become.

I have a thing for a good beard, which would explain my strange attraction to the entirety of the Lubavitch sect, and lumberjacks of all sorts. As such, I'm happy to say this is one movie that omits nothing when it comes to chin-dwellers. If I learned anything from the first act of this tale, it's that the best way to grow a beard is to fight grizzly bears, eat them, and then wear them as a hat, all the while believing you are one.

Now I have a character I can study. Any one person with facial hair greater than or equal to a Fu-Man-Chu is certainly worth observing. With the beard and the eccentric mountaineer training under his belt, Jeremiah is a whole new man. He's now free to wander the land without a constant fear of starvation, so he's free to work on the finer style points that enhance not only his survival, but my own ideal wardrobe. What mountain man would be complete without the above pictured bear boots, or a left-parted intentionally messy yet meticulously styled mop-top?

Not this one.

The movie gets a bit Hemingwayesque for a while, as Jeremiah begins to grow a couple of mute tumors. Not much is said, but when it is, you listen, and you listen hard. You listen so hard it hurts. And what you learn is that if you adopt a mute kid who just saw a mass murder, you can name him whatever you want. You also learn that Indian women make wonderful parting gifts.

At this point, anyone who watches this movies is sure to ask themselves "I wonder what this movie could possibly be about?" or "Is this even a real storyline, or is Sydney just messing with me?" and neither of these questions would be answered. The makeshift family settles down and builds a cabin, and when they're done, the same questions come up, and still no answer.

Just as you've given up all hope and accepted the fact that the cabin-building scene is probably the climax of the movie, thinking about how you should never have listened to the overture and eaten your popcorn loudly and sloppily, this fellow shows up:

And BAM-entr'acte. Thankfully, we get a moment to contemplate.

For some reason, Paul Benedict, who is dressed as a reverend and is presumably playing one, needs Jeremiah to desecrate an Indian burial ground. Jeremiah, having just removed his beard and with it his common sense, decides it would be most excellent to pull an Easy Rider-acid-tripping-in-a-graveyard act, and leads the reverend and his slightly larger posse right on through.

Skip ahead, and we find ourselves in the middle of an Indian-slaughter montage that makes the Rocky IV bearded Russian training scene look like child's play. And so Jeremiah lives. Lives are taken, friends are made, and beards are grown, but still he plods on. I don't think I've given away too much, because there is barely a story here, but I wanted to give a mood to the film that would entice you to see it, because yes, it deserves the attention it commands. Either way, it is certainly worth watching, if only for the beards.


(Note: this man is not in the movie)