Pop culture does this weird thing every now and then where some obscure character, artist, historical figure or object becomes mainstream. One of the oddest and strongest examples of this phenomenon comes from the mid-‘90s when Wyatt Earp became a household name. Earp is a real person and was a 19th-century lawman in Dodge City, Kansas before getting gold fever and chasing the shiny metal to the edges of white settlement in wild spots such as Arizona and Alaska. But by 1994, he was more well-known in US-American households than most US Presidents; almost everyone over 30 knows more of Earp’s biography than, say, Rutherford B. Hayes, his contemporary.
The main reason for this sudden, inexplicable popularity was the release of two films about Earp in 1993 and 1994: Tombstone and Wyatt Earp, respectively. The former starred Kurt Russell as the intrepid sheriff-turned-gold-miner while the latter featured Kevin Costner. These were arguably two of the three most famous US-American actors in the world in this time period, so these films were ubiquitous and seen by most everyone. Both were long (a combined 5 hours, 22 minutes!) and neither are really all that good. For hard-to-determine reasons, Tombstone was the crowd favorite and became lauded as the superior film. For a whole generation of boomer fathers, it is among the greatest films of all time. This reputation is unjustified; it is neither good nor the best Wyatt Earp-centric film of the ‘90s.
Tombstone is a film without a director. George P. Cosmatos—veteran of awful but imminently fun Sylvester Stallone action movies of the late ‘80s such as Cobra—is the credited director, but he famously flaked out and did not actually helm the film. In interviews over the years, Russell has revealed that he was largely in charge on set. The lack of leadership and artistic vision at the top—not that the director of Rambo: First Blood Part II should be automatically assumed to have artistic vision, it must be said—are evident in Tombstone. The film is really an achievement in editing, as the disparate scenes are only barely held together through carefully crafted cutting. The script makes little sense and summarizing the action or locating narrative threads is hard to do even for someone who has seen the film several times.
Ultimately, this does not matter as much as it should. Typically, elements such as directing and screenwriting are considered rather vital to the filmmaking endeavor. Tombstone, on the other hand, is mostly carried by sheer vibe and charisma. The plot is nonsensical, but the cast members are able to finish most scenes as only a little muddled on their talent and presence. Russell as Earp is menacing, Sam Elliott and Bill Paxton as his brothers keep the dialogue rolling and Val Kilmer has perhaps never been more fun than he is here as Doc Holliday (in contrast, Wyatt Earp features Dennis Quaid in the same role and he was doomed to mediocrity by how radiant Kilmer is in Tombstone). Really, Russell and Kilmer are the only reason anyone remembers or thinks about this film anymore. Both are capital-S Stars in this one. And they had to be, without a script or a director.
What most people are unwilling to admit is that Wyatt Earp is better. Costner was born to do two things on camera: throw a baseball and ride a horse. His Earp biography is actually directed, by Star Wars stalwart Lawrence Kasdan, and actually makes sense. It lacks the cool of Tombstone, mostly because Quaid is so completely outclassed by Kilmer, and because the film is much more epic in scope and runtime. Tombstone knows that what makes Earp fascinating is his association with Holliday and the shootout at the OK Corral. But vibes can only go so far. Wyatt Earp makes sense, seems to have a script and tells a complete story. Tombstone is whiskey-soaked poker scenes, a couple of cool gunfights and nonsense.
Really, the true mystery of the strange Wyatt Earp moment in 1993 and 1994 is why anyone would make a film about him, let alone two of the biggest stars in Hollywood. Earp is no Jesse James. Perhaps the lack of directorial interest in the projects reveals just how vacuous Earp’s biography is, cinematically speaking. Because neither Earp film is really very good, even with all the star power devoted to them.
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