Mario Van Peebles’ Outlaw Posse

There is a relatively new trope in revisionist Westerns, in which a grizzled gunslinger blows into a town founded by freedmen that exudes contemporary values of tolerance and diversity. Of course, he comes to respect their ways, even though he must revert to his bad old habits to defend their dreams. You definitely find this template in the Django series, the Refuge graphic novel, and now again in this film. At least the hard-bitten “Chief” will do his best to keep his shootouts out-of-town in Mario Van Peebles’ Outlaw Posse, which opens in select theaters this Friday.

Shortly after the Civil War, Chief and Angel hijacked a shipment of gold intended to pay reparations to former slaves. They had the usual falling out, resulting in Angel losing both his share of the gold and one hand. Shrewdly, Chief stashed the loot on reservation land, where most white outlaws fear to tread. However, Angel remains determined to re-appropriate the gold and sever one of Chief’s mitts in retribution. For leverage, he abducts Malindy, the wife of Chief’s estranged son, Decker.

To save her, Decker must ingratiate himself into Chief’s gang, now consisting of the fatherly Carson, the young Southpaw (both of whom are white), the knife-wielding femme fatale Queeny, and the minstrel-performer, Spooky. Chief is due to reclaim the gold at the time he and the actual tribal chief agreed upon, but to get there, they must travel through the freedmen’s community led by his former riding mate, Horatio, who isn’t as dead as Chief had heard (that is a common phenomenon in Outlaw Posse).

Weirdly, one of the most entertaining things about Outlaw Posse is the wealth of colorful character actor cameos, like Neal McDonough and the truly great M. Emmet Walsh, who appear in the prologue (which could stand alone as separate short) and then only reappear briefly in a dream sequence. Regardless, they are both perfectly cast. There is also Edward James Olmos popping up as a general store proprietor and Joseph Culp (Corman’s Dr. Doom) as a crooked sheriff. Plus, Cedric the Entertainer plays it relatively straight as newly enlightened Horatio.

Outlaw Posse does not appear to be linked to Van Peebles’ Posse from 1993, but he clearly remembered his way around horses and six-shooters. Frankly, there is no “posse” in Outlaw Posse, so the title seems deliberately misleading. Regardless, as Chief, he is definitely cool, in a steely, world weary kind of way. He can still carry a movie.

Redemption Road: The Music is Legit

There are no pets in this film. They would have died long ago for these characters. They get the blues, give the blues, live the blues, and sometimes even play the blues. The last part is inconveniently difficult for Jefferson Bailey. He fancies himself an aspiring blues musician, but he has a nasty case of stage fright. Unfortunately, he has even worse problems in Mario Van Peebles’ Redemption Road, which screens on the Grio TV.

During his time in Austin, Bailey has been binge-drinking and sleeping with the wife of the loan shark he is into, for far more than he can repay. The aggrieved Boyd is out to collect his interest and then some, so Bailey reluctantly agrees to return to Huntsville with the imposing Augy. Supposedly, he was hired by the estate of Bailey’s grandfather, to bring the prodigal underachiever home, so he can collect his legacy. However, the big man might have an ulterior motive for accepting the assignment.

There is real-deal blues music in Redemption, often played in authentic looking road houses. Thanks to performances from the likes of Gary Clark Jr., James “Nick” Nixon, and Alabama Slim & Little Freddie King, real blues aficionados will forgive the film a lot, including all the cliches in Morgan Simpson and George Richards’ screenplay (which are plentiful). On the other hand, the scruffy white, goatee-wearing Simpson does not look very legit playing a blues musician, not even in hipster Austin.

Indeed, Simpson is by far the film’s weakest link. On the other hand, the late, great Michael Clarke Duncan is perfectly cast as the hulking but sensitive Augy and Tom Skerrit adds some grizzled charisma as Santa, his blues club proprietor crony. Duncan and Skerrit each have some nicely turned confessional speeches, but Bailey’s drama quickly grows tiresome. Still, Luke Perry deserves credit for wholeheartedly playing against type as the violent sleaze, Boyd.

Immortal: Tales Where They Don’t Die at the End

For Larry Talbott (a.k.a. The Wolfman), immortality was a source of unending horror rather than a gift. Some of these characters might very well agree. It turns out there are people out there who just will not die. In most cases, they have the Wolverinish healing powers to go with an unending life-span. They also tend to learn of their rare status at the darnedest times in the shared world/concept anthology Immortal, written by Jon Dabach, which releases today on VOD.

People are hunting people yet again—the cinematic epidemic continues (following The Hunt, Bacurau, The Prey, etc., etc.)—in the first storyline, “Chelsea,” directed by Rob Margolies. However, the stakes are higher this time around, because the prey is a high school track star and the hunter is consciously immortal. In truth, it is rather clever, but viewers would probably appreciate it more if it came at the end of the film rather than the start.

“Garry & Vanessa” directed by Danny Isaacs also builds towards a “hey there, immortality” twist ending, but this time we’re already expecting it from the start. The titular Garry plans to do something extreme to provide for his pregnant titular wife. Presumably, it will not work out exactly as planned. As a modest bonus, we get to see an incredibly tired looking Mario Van Peebles playing a cable guy.

Things unexpectedly get a little preachy in “Ted & Mary,” directed by Tom Colley, wherein our focal couple give a final interview before he administers her assisted suicide. The good part is Tony Todd pays Ted (quite poignantly). The bad part is the third revelation of immortality is extraordinarily depressing.

A Clear Shot: The 1991 Sacramento Hostage Crisis

The Good Guys chain of electronic stores no longer exists, nor does the CompUSA chain that was subsequently absorbed by an online retailer, after buying them out. It probably did not help the Good Guys brand much when one of its stores became the location of the 1991 Sacramento Hostage Crisis. The police response—still considered the largest hostage rescue in American history—is thinly fictionalized in director-screenwriter Nick Leisure’s A Clear Shot, which releases today on DVD and VOD.

Lt. Gomez is the hostage negotiator in charge, but the Sheriff is itching to take control and unleash the SWAT team. Gomez is getting pressure from all sides, but the first on the scene Sgt. “Kappy” has respect for his mentor. He also quickly recruits Officer Advencula to his field kitchen cabinet. Unfortunately, the four hostage-takers are twitchy and dangerously prone to internal strife. Of course, there are also children and pregnant hostages to further raise the stakes.

Clear Shot is a sturdily constructed but not especially remarkable police drama. As Gomez, Mario Van Peebles goes all-in with world-weary understatement and it mostly works. Hao Do and Kevin Bach help humanize the reluctant half of the four gunmen, which heightens the sense of inevitable tragedy. However, the real standout is Marshal Hilton, who develops believable buddy-cop chemistry with Van Peebles and shines in what is probably the film’s most memorable scene (you’ll know it when you see it).