One imagines Viggo Mortensen is a big fan of Clint Eastwood’s 1992 “Unforgiven,” given how Mortensen’s “The Dead Don’t Hurt” echoes the basic framework of that classic Western, i.e., a widower and father living on the outskirts of town who would just as soon avoid conflict and violence, but that’s not the way of this world. Not that this film (or for that matter, any other Western made in the last 30 years) can stack up to “Unforgiven,” but it is a lean and brutally authentic tale bolstered by outstanding performances from Mortensen, the versatile Vicky Krieps and a terrific supporting cast.
Mortensen does it all in “The Dead Don’t Hurt.” He’s the director, star and producer, and he even contributes the music, which alternates between Western fiddles and haunting chamber music. Maybe the dead don’t hurt, but the body count does escalate quickly in three scenes early in the film: a number of victims are gunned down in a saloon, a man is arrested and quickly tried and hanged for those killings, and just outside of town, a man buries his wife, who has succumbed to a long illness.
In a storytelling choice that is unnecessary and at times slightly confusing, “The Dead Don’t Hurt” toggles back and forth along the timeline throughout the film. Looking every bit the rugged leading man at 65, Mortensen has an Eastwood-esque stoicism as Holger Olsen, the man who was burying his wife. In flashback sequences, we learn Holger is a Danish immigrant who met Krieps’ Vivienne, a French-Canadian, in San Francisco. They have an instant connection, and Vivienne brushes aside the smarmy dandy (Colin Morgan) who has been courting her and accompanies Holger back to his hometown in Nevada.
Here we meet the usual array of Western archetypes, including the wealthy and powerful businessman Alfred Jeffries (Garret Dillahunt); his dangerously unhinged and violent son, Weston (Solly McLeod); the friendly saloonkeeper, Alan Kendall (W. Earl Brown), and the cheerfully corrupt Mayor Rudolph Schiller (Danny Huston, as always doing work that honors the legendary Huston family legacy).
Holger and Vivienne literally build a home together, but when a group of soldiers fighting for the North in the Civil War come to Nevada to recruit new blood, Holger joins up, much to the shock and disappointment of Vivienne, who points out he’s too old for this war, and also, they’re supposed to be building a life together. Two years later, Holger returns, and let’s just say it might not have been the best idea for him to leave Vivienne alone in this godforsaken town.
As a director, Mortensen keeps things clean and simple, opting for basic medium-closeups in the interiors, and wisely showcasing the vast and awesome period-piece exteriors, with location shooting in British Columbia and Durango, Mexico. (The attempt at realism goes overboard in one curious way; we hear the irritating and over-loud sounds of flies buzzing in nearly every outdoor sequence.) Krieps and Mortensen have a lovely and understated chemistry together; though Vivienne and Holger come from vastly different backgrounds, they are kindred spirits. We know there’s going to be a big showdown late in the story, and the confrontation doesn’t disappoint. It’s a clever twist on the classic standoff, and it concludes the Western fable on a perfect note.
