_It's gettin' dangerous to be poor in this country._

I've been aware of _Heaven's Gate_ for years as little more than a punchline, the butt of a thousand jokes about Hollywood's over-indulgence. It didn't occur to me that it might actually have some worth as a film until I read Mark Cousins describe it as a 'splendid Marxist epic Western' in _The Story of Film_. I made a mental note to watch it, but its forbidding runtime put me off for a long while: here was a relatively major time investment in film terms. I sat down last night to watch it and I'm very, very glad that I did.

I can sympathise with critics who complain about bloated runtimes and pacing, although I've never found myself agreeing. If I love a film, I want more of it; I dream of seeing the full versions of Terrence Malick's films with all of the footage from the cutting room floor. With that preference in mind, I loved the extended fiddling sequence that takes place in the titular roller skating rink or the long, glacial interactions between characters. I enjoyed the mood set by Billy Irvine's speech at Harvard. I relished watching the characters move around the countryside. What really struck me about this film, however, is that it takes the time to really explore the implications of American imperialism and class conflict. Kris Kristofferson's James Averill is a moneyed graduate turned marshal, a class traitor who has been exiled from high society in Wyoming for his views. The complex interplay between him, Ella Watson (a brothel madam who takes stolen cattle as payment) and Nate Champion (a mercenary hired by local rich landowners to kill cattle rustlers) is the beating heart of the film, but is a vehicle to explore the dynamics of class, immigration and law enforcement.

The film is frequently beautiful, especially now that it has gone through a proper colour-correction process, and the attention to detail is astonishing from the authenticity of the costumes to the lived-in feel the entire world has. This world is dirt and blood, the rustle of filthy clothes and filthier skin. So much of the film is about creating a sense of who these people are and what they'd been through; particular focus is given to the Eastern European immigrants who are persecuted for simply wanting to better themselves and doing what they have to to survive.

The performances, so lambasted, are strong throughout. Christopher Walken brings a wild-eyed looseness to the role of Champion, a man confused about what he wants in life. There's a surprising amount of pathos towards the end of the film involving his decisions about where he's going to stand in the end. Kristofferson brings an earnest steadfastness to Averill that makes him believable as a man who's turned his back on what's expected of a man of his class and Isabelle Huppert is typically excellent as Ella, bringing a depth and sensitivity to a portrait of a woman torn between two men, two lives.

I loved this film; I devoured every frame of it, mourned the characters I'd come to be fond of, thought carefully about the issues it raised. It's a great pity that more Westerns can't explore the issues of class, immigration and privilege in the way that this film does when the circumstances of the frontier are so rich for exploration. Thank heavens, then, that we have Heaven's Gate to show us the way.