And to my great surprise, there I ended up sitting transfixed for the film's entire 131-minute runtime. It was only when I stumbled by chance upon an airing of Unforgiven on cable a few years later, on one of those lazy Sunday afternoons when you have no energy to even change the channel, that I reluctantly gave it a try.

Even after both films took home the Oscar for Best Picture in their respective year of release, I still refused to give in. I loved horror and sci-fi and drama, and wanted something that wasn't about 'old people' - why should I care about Lorne Greene in a cowboy hat, shooting at Indians?Īnd that's the attitude I clung to up and through the '90s wave of 'revisionist' westerns, led by such blockbusters as Dances with Wolves and Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven. I can remember my grandfather obsessively watching old reruns of Bonanza, Maverick and The Lone Ranger every night on our little B&W tee-vee, and me just not getting it. As a kid growing up in the '70s, I would say that the western was probably my least favorite genre (well, aside from musicals, but that's a subject for a different review).

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