“The Dead Don’t Hurt” (2024) |

I realize that the Western genre has fallen out of fashion (case in point, the initial reactions to Kevin Costner’s upcoming frontier epic Horizon, which just premiered at Cannes). Of course, there are those rare exceptions. But they often consist of cynical deconstructions or genre mashups. As for the more traditional Westerns, they’re just not in demand these days, and that’s a shame, frankly.

I’ll admit I’m a bit picky about this, but I really enjoy a good western. And Viggo Mortensen gives us a good one with The Dead Don’t Hurt, a uniquely intimate and emotional drama set within the framework of an old-fashioned western film. Mortensen stars in, writes, directs, produces and even composes the music for this distinctly character-driven film that manages to incorporate the old while still feeling entirely new.

Mortensen opens his film on a shocking note that gives us a candid look at where things are headed. We see an ailing woman named Vivienne (Vicky Krieps) lying on her deathbed, sharing her final words with her husband Holger (Mortensen). It’s a grim beginning that adds a touch of tragedy to the story being told. From there, Mortensen takes us back to the moment the couple first met, and for the rest of the film, he uses this flashback/flashforward technique, unfolding his story in a way that challenges his audience but also rewards them.

The film is set in 1860 before the Civil War. Danish immigrant Holger Olsen sits on a dock in San Francisco, where he had set out to “the end of the world“There he notices Vivienne Le Coudy, a modest but independent French-Canadian woman who has just happily dumped her rich and unbearable fiancé (Colin Morgan). The modest but playful Vivienne is immediately attracted to the quiet and ruggedly handsome Holger. Their mutual attraction soon develops into a full-blown romance, which Mortensen portrays seriously and authentically.

As their relationship grows closer, Vivienne agrees to ride away with Holger and begin a life together in his remote Nevada cabin, which is notable only for its striking simplicity.This is the place you have chosen?” Vivienne asks in a playful, provocative way (one of many ironic, witty sentences that Krieps pulls off absolutely perfectly). In one of several flashbacks within a flashback, we learn that Vivienne was a florist and wastes no time in putting her skills to use by planting, sowing, and bringing her own vibrancy into her home.

But their tender love story takes a fateful turn when Holger, almost on a whim, answers the call to join the Union Army. When he goes off to war, Vivienne is left alone to look after her house while haunted by memories of her father, who left in a similar fashion and never returned. She gets a job in a saloon in nearby Elks Flats, a small frontier town run by its corrupt mayor, Rudolph Schiller (Danny Huston). In reality, he is nothing more than the lapdog of a greedy landowner named Alfred Jeffries (Garret Dillahunt).

But the film’s biggest villain is Weston (Solly McLeod), the Baron’s psychotic son. With his father continually ignoring his violence and cruelty, Weston terrorizes the townspeople and eventually takes a liking to Vivienne. The horror that follows calls into question Holger’s impulsive decision to enlist more, and makes the revelations that await him when he finally returns even more haunting. Surprisingly, these grave events never lead to the kind of emotional reckoning one might expect. That doesn’t detract from the ultimate resolution, but their feelings upon reunion are still a little confusing.

Mortensen’s character-driven script works well with his patient and tactful direction. The result is a film that draws on elements of the classic Western but never makes them the focus. Its nonlinear narrative can make the plot threads a little harder to follow than necessary, but it also deftly contrasts several compelling facets of his story. On screen, Mortensen steps back and makes Krieps the focal point, surrounding him with the painterly lens of cinematographer Marcel Zyskind. Krieps steals the show, bringing grace, passion and spirit to a type of female role we don’t often see in Western films. The Dead Don’t Hurt hits select theaters May 31.