By Jalen Maki
I have seen Tombstone, conservatively, eleven thousand times.
Everyone has those movies that were just on while they were a kid. If Tombstone isn’t squarely at the top of my list, then it’s easily among the three movies I’ve watched the most times in my life. And can you blame me? It rules.
Tombstone is a 1993 Western film directed by George P. Cosmatos and starring Kurt Russell as famous lawman Wyatt Earp, Sam Elliott and Bill Paxton as Wyatt’s brothers Virgil and Morgan, and Val Kilmer doing the best work of his career as John “Doc” Holliday, a former dentist-turned alcoholic gambler dying of tuberculosis. The cast also includes an absolute who’s-who of ‘80s and ‘90s dudes, including, but not limited to, Michael Biehn, Powers Boothe, Thomas Haden Church, Michael Rooker, and Billy Bob Thornton.
The plot of the film is pretty easy to wrap your head around: Wyatt, renowned for his years working as a peace officer, decides to turn in the badge, put away the trusty ol’ six shooter and head to Tombstone, Arizona, with his wife, Mattie, along with Virgil and Morgan and their spouses, to retire and put down roots. Upon arrival, the brothers run into their old pal Doc, who’s in the Southwest in hopes that the dry climate will help alleviate his illness. Just when they think they’ve finally found a place to settle as a family, the boys discover that there’s trouble a-brewin.’ A band of outlaws called the Cowboys, led by Curly Bill Brocius (Boothe) and Johnny Ringo (Biehn), also hang out in Tombstone, and the only thing they like more than wearing matching red sashes is breaking the law. As you can imagine, the Earps and the Cowboys don’t exactly hit it off, and the town ain’t big enough for the, uh, several dozen of them. Horses are ridden, cards are played, whiskey is consumed, smack is talked, tensions are escalated, and guns are shot; so, you know, pretty standard procedure for a Western.
Ultimately, Tombstone is a story of family, brotherhood, friendship, loyalty, vengeance and morality. But maybe more importantly, it’s also a story about how dudes rock, and how it’s simply cool to be a tough guy. This definition doesn’t apply so much to the Cowboys in my opinion, considering if I had 20 or so armed pals around me at all times, I’d be much more inclined to run my mouth and generally be a menace to society. Wyatt, Doc, Virgil, and Morgan, however, don’t have this luxury. In a town living in fear of the wrath of bad men, few have the guts to back the Earps in their righteous stance for peace and justice. What our protagonists lack in numbers, however, they make up for in unwavering male unity represented in the form of guns, duster coats, stern looks, intense monologues, and striking facial hair. Speaking of which, the mustaches in this film are two things: 1). Absolutely incredible; and 2.) Totally authentic. Russell and Elliott are two of our best Facial Hair Guys, and the rest of the cast comes in clutch, rocking some the sickest ‘staches, beards, and goatees this side of Serpico.
For a movie that’s bursting at the seams with macho energy and masculine stoicism, Tombstone is also surprisingly (and sometimes downright gut-wrenchingly) tender in its exploration of the relationships between its main characters; specifically, the friendship between Wyatt and Doc. These two belong among the likes of The Lord of the Rings’ Frodo and Sam and Thelma and Louise as one of the all-time great film companionships. When seeing the two interact early on in the movie, it seems like they were fast friends from the jump and pick up right where they left off with ease, but it’s not hard to imagine that Wyatt and Doc could’ve rubbed each other the wrong way upon their first encounter. Wyatt’s steady, no-B.S. demeanor is pretty much the polar opposite of Doc’s breezy personality that’s filled to the brim with idiosyncratic humor and charm. The push and pull between their temperaments is both fun and believable because at a more foundational level, Wyatt and Doc are very similar: they each have a strong sense of right and wrong, and they’re unshakably faithful to those they care about.
I mentioned earlier that Kilmer is doing the best work of his career as Doc, but I’d put his performance in Tombstone up against any performance of the ‘90s, and to go one step further, any performance in a Western. Kilmer oozes charisma and swagger, and when he’s onscreen, it’s impossible to take your eyes off him. His physicality as a drunken, dying, gun-fighting gambler is second-to-none, but there’s something deeper beneath the pistols and sweat-stained shirts: a heartbreakingly convincing rendering of a man who’s finally forced to face his own mortality after years of living like the sun might not rise again. In their war with the Cowboys, Doc’s aware that he’s got nothing to lose; if a bullet doesn’t get him today, his sickness probably will tomorrow. What makes Doc such a tremendous character and friend is that his impending end doesn’t make him reckless with the lives of the people that are important to him. If anything, it makes him even more resolute in his belief that he’s doing something that matters and that he has to make every day he has left mean something for the greater good. At a key point in the movie, ahead of a duel with the famed gunhand Ringo, Wyatt seeks advice from Doc. Knowing he’ll likely lose, Wyatt goes anyway, but Doc beats Wyatt there and takes on Ringo himself. Doc puts himself on the line, but he doesn’t do it with nihilistic abandon: he makes a calculated decision that ultimately saves Wyatt’s life.
As the fight wanes, and as Doc’s condition worsens, Wyatt has to confront what life without his best friend will be like. In the end, losing Doc marks a turning point for Wyatt. He’s not only saying goodbye to his longtime companion, but to his former self, and both men know it. While Wyatt is understandably upset about this, Doc tells his pal to relish in the hope of the unknown and honor his memory and their friendship by going out and living for both of them. The final scene between Wyatt and Doc is the culmination of one of the most palpably believable and devastatingly beautiful portrayals of friendship ever put to film.
Tombstone has funny a way of sneaking up on you. One minute, you’re watching some classic testosterone-fueled Western violence and debauchery, and the next, you’re wiping tears from your eyes, trying to remember the last time you texted your best friend. Tombstone remains an all-time classic to me because it simultaneously nails two things: Superficially, it rocks unbelievably hard, but more profoundly, it’s an incomparable depiction of the depths of devotion to friends and family. And if you’re not moved by that…you’re an oak.
Follow Jalen on Letterboxd at www.letterboxd.com/jalenmaki182/ to see what he’s been watching, and read more at www.medium.com/@jalenmaki.