Lonely Are the Brave

"I don't need a card to figure out who I am. I already know."

Kirk Douglas considers Lonely Are the Brave (1962) his best movie, even though it flopped upon release. Perhaps Douglas and director David Miller were ahead of the curve, as similarly bleak contemporary Westerns found success later that decade. Regardless, it's an effective showcase for its star, even if its story beats don't always work.
Jack Burns (Kirk Douglas) drifts across the Southwest on horseback, hostile towards modern society. He visits Jerry (Geena Rowlands), wife of his friend Paul Bondi (Michael Kane) who's doing time in prison. Taking pity on Jerry, Jack gets himself arrested and tries to convince Paul to escape. Paul refuses, leaving Jack to go on the lam himself. Sheriff Morey Johnson (Walter Matthau) leads a posse after Jack, finding his men outclassed by the modern cowboy.
Based on an Edward Abbey book, Lonely Are the Brave is a grim affair, even compared to successors like Hud. Miller's central image contrasts Jack and his faithful horse Whiskey with modern society, whether fleeing helicopters or trapped in the middle of an intersection. Jack so despises modern society he refuses to carry a driver's license, bemoaning the individual's fate in a modern world. Sheriff Johnson comes to respect Jack even as he tracks him into the mountains, a living anachronism refusing to compromise his values.
Perhaps Dalton Trumbo's script is overly on the nose, not only giving Jack overripe monologues against progress but establishing an obvious subplot with a tanker truck that foretells tragedy. Brave shades subtlety in other ways: Jack drops racial slurs but extends bonhomie to everyone, while Johnson's more irritated with his deputies than Jack. Paul proves most interesting of all, with firm personal principles. He's willing to serve jail time if it means keeping his family intact, a commitment Jack can't grasp. Here, we wonder if Jack's principled or merely selfish.
David Miller enjoyed a long, if not especially distinguished directorial career, and Brave showcases his best work. Along with photographer Philip H. Lothrop, he contrasts Jack with striking New Mexico scenery, casting his protagonists against rocky cliffs and picturesque desert vistas. Interior scenes sweat with grit and violence, as in the sharply choreographed bar brawl between Jack and a one-armed drunk (Bill Raisch). The climactic cat-and-mouse game anticipates First Blood, complete with the gag of the hero downing a helicopter with primitive weapons. Jerry Goldsmith contributes a richly tragic score.
Kirk Douglas dominates the show, playing Jack as a bitter tough guy, his good heart compromised by fatal stubbornness. Douglas relishes the role's physical aspects, performing some dangerous fight scenes and mounted stunts, yet he always finds room for subtle humanity. His scenes with Whiskey suggest a hidden tenderness, along with his moving interactions with Jerry. And Jack's final, wordless scene in the rain is some of Kirk's greatest acting.
Walter Matthau gives a commendably subdued turn, with Geena Rowlands quietly tragic, her furtive glances and quiet affection suggesting a hidden backstory we barely glimpse. George Kennedy has a memorable early role as a sadistic deputy. TV fans can spot Carrol O'Connor, Bill Bixy and Bill Raisch (The Fugitive's one-armed man) in supporting turns.
Lonely Are the Brave's main flaw comes in being overly schematic, with broadly stated preachments and an ending telegraphed far in advance. Nonetheless, the film makes room for subtlety and genuine emotion between its expansive action scenes, culminating in a rain-swept tragedy that's genuinely moving.