Chisum (1970)

Chisum is the kind of big, confident Western that knows exactly what it’s selling: John Wayne at ease in the saddle, a wide-open frontier photographed with handsome, old-school style, and a slow-building sense of justice that turns into a rousing payoff. Andrew V. McLaglen keeps the storytelling sturdy and clear, letting the Lincoln County conflict feel like a real community being squeezed, not just another excuse for gunfire, while the supporting players add grit and personality around Wayne’s calm, commanding center. The vibe is classic studio Western—square-jawed heroism, dust, whiskey, and intermittent bursts of violence—more “solid entertainment” than revisionist soul-searching. If you want a twisty, morally gray modern Western, this may feel traditional, but if you’re on the fence and in the mood for a reliable, crowd-pleasing Wayne outing, it’s an easy yes.

Chisum is clearly trying to be a big, old-school John Wayne Western that folds the Lincoln County Land War into a crowd-pleasing legend, with familiar faces like Billy the Kid and Pat Garrett orbiting the Duke’s steady moral center. The problem is it often plays more like a greatest-hits scrapbook than a gripping drama: formulaic conflicts, tidy mythmaking, and a few “and then this happened” stretches that sap tension. If you want a nuanced, historically grounded take or sharp character depth, this can feel a bit gimmicky and unspectacular despite the stakes. Still, if your comfort zone is straightforward 1970s studio Westerns with solid scenery, reliable shootouts, and Wayne doing Wayne, it delivers a relaxed, watchable ride.