Let’s put this upfront: the cinematography by the late Halyna Hutchins is gorgeous. Hutchins died in a horrific accident on the set of the movie Rust, when a prop gun, improperly checked before it was given to star and producer Alec Baldwin, shot a real bullet – prompting the reasonable question of whether the movie itself should ever be finished and see the light of day. Regardless of the moral quandary, the movie is here, primarily showcasing how good Hutchins was at her job. The first few minutes of Rust quickly accumulates half a dozen gorgeous images in establishing shots, and remains great-looking throughout – visually worthy, at least, of moments that imitate famous shots from classics of the genre like The Searchers and the True Grit remake. (If Hutchins worked on about half of the movie, it seems to have been finished following her visual lead.)
It’s not unusual for a contemporary-made western to work primarily in dusty browns, beiges and blacks in depicting the past (in this case, the Wyoming of 1882), but this movie’s dark tones have impressive richness; much of the imagery looks as if it’s been painted in deep-black shadows. It’s not just silhouettes on magic-hour landscapes that show off Hutchins’ obvious talent, either; in an early prison-break scene, a rescuer emerges from darkness, and the camera slowly pans over to the dead body of a lawman, as if in fearful apprehension.
The prisoner in the spooky breakout scene is Lucas Hollister (Patrick Scott McDermott), a boy not older than 14 or so who has been convicted of murder and sentenced to hang. The already-severe punishment is even worse given his circumstances; he’s been acting as the head of his small household, caring for his younger brother, and the killing happened in process of defending them from a grown man attempting to exact punishment for a scuffle with his own son. Lucas’s rescuer is Rust (Baldwin), who turns out to be the grandfather he never knew he had. A hard-bitten outlaw, Rust informs the boy that he will be brought down to Mexico whether Lucas wants this or not. So begins a protracted pursuit, as a bounty is placed on Rust and his grandson and, naturally, the two grow closer during their journey.
Besides the cinematography, the main revelation of Rust is that Baldwin is apparently one of those actors who has been yearning to do an old-fashioned western; he even has a shared story credit here, in addition to his starring and producing roles. This desire seems common among performers of a certain age, especially in a post-Yellowstone era; Nicolas Cage has done three such lower-profile western pictures in the past few years. Baldwin, however, has apparently persisted beyond his ability to convincingly play a grizzled-loner role; even with a more urbane character backstory (and despite Baldwin’s history of gruffness, on and off screen), his Rust feels too refined and simply not interestingly enigmatic or dangerous enough to carry the film. The emergence of his grandfatherly care is never really in doubt.
Though these scenes between Lucas and Rust are not especially well-acted, they at least have a basic rooting interest. The rest of the movie, which runs an inexplicable 140 minutes with credits, overflows with supporting characters reciting drawn-out dialogue. Despite the efforts to render all of this as colorful, the lawmen, bounty hunters and various scofflaws are difficult to differentiate; this is a movie in desperate need of some recognizable character actors. The fact is, the discomfiting sight of Baldwin firing off pistols during the obligatory gunfight climax (after which the movie continues for a truly stretched-out denouement) isn’t really worth the long sit; it makes Rust feel ghoulish in addition to dull. In an equally uncomfortable paradox, Halyna Hutchins is the movie’s saving grace. Without her work, it wouldn’t be worth a look at all.
Rust is out in US cinemas and to rent digitally on 2 May with a UK date to be announced
