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The 1990 Wolves marked the beginning of the impressive revival of the western, one which would last until 1992’s Unforgiven. Both films would win Best Picture and inspire a disastrous teen-ification of the genre with movies like American Outlaws. The story is compelling, Costner’s performance is top notch, and his direction is impressive. But what’s most notable is that this cowboys and Indians flick doesn’t demonize the Indians.
Here, Dunbar makes the cautious steps toward peace a show stopper, and even though Dances with Wolves has its share of bow and arrow battles and buffalo hunts, it’s the peacetime tale that is ultimately the most memorable part of the film. (Not to mention, the movie has one of cinema’s great, memorable lines from Chaykin “Sir knight? I’ve just pissed in my pants and nobody can do anything about it!”)
Wolves is not without its lingering problems. The “romance” is on the mild side and difficult to relate to. Costner’s voice over is stilted, sounding like he’s reading from the back of a bag of frozen brocolli. And John Barry’s Oscar winning score is appropriately grand, but without even checking I could tell it was lifted wholesale from the brassy baritones he used in, of all places, A View to a Kill.
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