Enlightening Eastwood's Pale Rider

Enlightening Eastwood’s Pale Rider

By Jim Banholzer

With special lights from Brad Nottingham & Professor Tom Trusky
Click here for revised versions

Watching Clint Eastwood movies, particularly his well-crafted Westerns are almost like enrapturing religious experiences for some people. Each of his movies project priceless lessons, even when he plays an antagonist such as the callous elephant hunter in White Hunter, Black Heart. Astoundingly enough, Clint filmed much of Pale Rider right here in Idaho with a theme as ageless as the Boulder Mountains. Clint plays a nameless preacher protecting a poor prospecting town from a gang of ruffians sent by a greedy mining corporation, to intrude on their claim. This striking film -the first of Clint’s that he produced -was created in 1984 around Boulder City north of Ketchum and over by the Vienna Mine near Smiley Creek. Pale Rider was the predecessor to Clint’s 1992 Academy award-winning Unforgiven.

Each time I watch Pale Rider, I focus on the recognizable background terrain, sometimes freezing specific frames to find my way around in the mountains. As Brad Nottingham was a local then he reminds us, “For Pale Rider, there were some filming issues evident in the film as you see it today, which brought comment: it was filmed in our typically beautiful late Indian summer, and some of the riding scenes were filmed just before and after an unpredictable early season snow, which frosted the upper parts of the ranges, while quickly melting off the lower elevations. As a film viewer, a period of time that seemed to be about a week, appeared to toggle from summer to winter, which brought some criticism, I remember, but any of us mountain folk wouldn't give it a second thought.
In addition, Clint made tremendous effort to restore the site that was disturbed by the building fronts, construction crew, and later the feet pounding of the actors and production crew on the little ridge and river drainage near the quaking aspen groves. Winter seemed to come quickly that year and for a bunch of us, it was hard to spot evidence of the film set trampling that next spring, though we tried. We also tried to find some kind of film crew item or something. Lon and I located "the rock" that one of the miners was chipping on in an early scene from the film.
When it finally came out, Pale Rider sort of stunned people, because it was a break from the Eastwood tradition. He played an even quieter, low-key character, and I remember people being confused about connecting a "preacher" role to him. Others, expecting the active dashing and violent Dirty Harry traditions found this movie kind of slow and spacey, features I didn't mind at all this time. I just soaked in the scenery that I knew was almost in my backyard. I had driven my old Buick Wagon up there, and forded the rocky river crossing half a dozen times, hiking up to some of the "real" old mining cabins and diggings.
Soon afterward, a local man, David Butterfield had us typeset and produce an exhausting field guide to good locations across Idaho, including information about accommodations, prices, in order to drum up more filmmaking interest from Hollywood. After the book was published, I remember that there wasn't much response, until the Bruce Willis engine began churning up sleep Hailey in the 90s. I still have not rented that weird, forgotten-about movie (Town & Country (2001)) filmed in Bellevue that included Warren Beatty that had a fly-fishing connection, nor the one about Hemingway, but I did see that odd Twin Falls picture(Breakfast of Champions (1999)) that Willis was working on when his marriage to Demi was fast unraveling.”

While I read Brad’s insights, it occurred to me that filming of this motion picture was a significant enough event that it should be commemorated with a historical sign. Folks I spoke with at The Idaho Transportation Department were receptive to this idea and may soon designate a spot along Highway 75, once the historical committee approves proper text for the legend.

I passed this suggestion on to Tom Trusky, Head of the Idaho Film Collection, and Professor of English at Boise State University. Tom was enthusiastic about the potential Pale Rider tribute and expanded it with a “Statewide Movie Signage Proposal”. To quote Professor Trusky, “The tourist / publicity value of such signage is apparent – and locals might appreciate such knowledge, too, if they are unaware of their cinematic heritage. As well, given the recent interest in bringing film production to the state, such signage would not only be public acknowledgement of Idaho’s considerable contribution to the film industry but also serve as a reminder to contemporary filmmakers of the Gem State possibilities.”

It would be nice if the Idaho Department of Transportation eventually expands Tom’s Statewide Movie Signage Proposal with a further plan. As technological -capabilities continue to advance in affordable ways; it would be uplifting to see Idaho embrace the next generation by attaching to our historical signs, interactive items. For instance, when traveling up Highway 75 past the North Fork Store, when reaching the perimeter of interest where Marilyn Monroe’s Bus Stop was filmed, an alert could be made available for interested traveler’s “duzz-all” digital devices. A short holographic film of Marilyn hypnotically dancing with a billowing skirt on driver’s dashboards would keep dozing dad’s chipper and alert, lending to driver safety. Then, for the next fistful of history, when reaching Pale Rider’s phantom hill, the sounds of bullets whizzing by ears could be the subsequent alert, then up to Galena Lodge, for a quick passerby browse over some books about the area’s rich history. Proprietors of the Sawtooth valley could smilingly profit by making related material available to help satisfy recently whetted travelers appetites. Inexpensively solar powered Kiosks could develop from these informative signpost-pullout areas. They could be further engineered to include emergency communications devices. A camera-eye imbedded within the untouchable hologram could help prevent vandalism and if tampering is detected, could be set to announce, “Go ahead, make my day!” Stranded drivers in remote areas where cell phones don’t work could come to know these signposts as secure places. One might even hope that drivers passing the Pale Rider signpost would be reminded to take after the nameless preacher and help their fellow man in need.

Certainly, ITD already has some technologically savvy leaders aboard. This is the third time I have had a positive experience with ITD leadership, which leads me to believe that innovativeness is embraced in their daily working environment. These leaders could take our ideas to the next realm by showing us how signpost pullouts could transformed into something that truly enhances the landscape.

By merging the information superhighway with our back road signage, Idaho could show the world how we are on the cutting edge along with being able-bodied enough to cut through bureaucracy in the meantime.

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More of Brad Nottingham’s insights on “Good Guys” can be found in the Idaho Film Archive on Pale Rider: http://www.boisestate.edu/hemingway/film.htm

A long day spent tinkering with “time saving” devices

Jim Banholzer

Remember the good old days when you used to drive down your (much less expensive to maintain) gravel driveway and drop off an annual firewood load onto your porch? Now with an electronic starter for your gas fireplace. You’ll never have to worry about keeping your axe sharp or ask where you wheelbarrow machinery is again. Or will you?

If the fragile lifeline of gas or electricity the feeds this valley were to suddenly cease due to fire, severe windstorm, earthquake, massive computer crash or some other disaster, you’ll be wishing that you’d stuck with that old fireplace, because this will be the time you will need it the most.

Unless that long suppressed “free energy” whirls around soon, you may find yourself soon winding around in the crawl space like a bull snake on your belly, to duct tape some hand warmers onto your frozen water pipes.

Well, brush off those coveralls now, because you can merely e-mail your local utility companies and find out when power and gas is expected to arrive back in the valley. Oops, their servers are down! Well perhaps you have a satellite connection and possibly a small generator. Now you’re okay -right?

In the meantime, your brother has been laboring in the flickering candlelight. He’s pushed your faux logs with the blazing Sun Valley logos aside. And now he’s breaking a sweat in this crazy freezing indoor weather, trying to reverse engineer the fireplace back into simple caveman days. He’s already pulled the gas piping system apart. Now you have agreed it’s time to go out and cut up some deadwood to get a real blaze a-going. Just need a little gas for the chainsaw from the gas station. Oops, that’s not going to work, because all the fuel pumps are inoperable. Where’s that handsaw then?

Finally you get going. Siphoning what little gas you have left in your car’s tank ought to be enough fuel to cut up a couple nights wood. You’re chugging up Phantom Hill and suddenly see some plentiful yellow pine deadfall. You quickly pull over to the side of the road, but are sucked in by a snowbank. No darn shovel in the car either, because you’ve been relying on that gas snow-thrower at home. No other vehicles seem to be coming by and you’re not quite sure how long a hike it is back to town, because those GPS receiver batteries drink up battery juice faster in this cold weather and now they’re done.

So, you decide not to hoof it back. You won’t be returning to a warm house anyway. Still no cars come by. It’s been hours. Eventually you dig out with a clipboard, but by now, your car battery is dead. Can’t push-start the rig either because you invested in the extra convenience of automatic transmission!

Your car clock is kaput and you never wind up that old family heirloom in the glove box, grand-pop used to rely on for years. After waiting for an eternity, a nameless lumberjack wearing preacher’s clothes gives you a jump-start and helps hoist a couple of the best yellow pine logs into your back end. After sensing that you’re fit to drive back, he drives off into the mountain mist. You try to wave your hand out the window for thanks, but the electronic windows are frozen shut. (Lucky thing you didn’t slide off into the Big Wood River)

In the immense quiet, you descend again down Phantom Hill. There’s been absolutely no traffic since your encounter with the nameless preacher. You’re almost home, when the traffic light turns red to let through some phantom traffic. You don’t mind though, because you suddenly realize the red light means that electricity has returned!

You’re glad to be back on your super-addiction to the grid and worked up a nice appetite to boot. If no one calls your recharged cell phone, you’ll have time to purchase some farm-raised salmon for supper. How convenient it is for those struggling fish to be spared that arduous nine-hundred mile journey from the Pacific has somehow become the accepted wisdom. Tame schoolchildren speak of how nice it is for those truckers to have driven the salmon clear around those dangerous dams in their newly approved 300 foot long hot-dog rigs.

In the meantime, you download some holiday music and hyper-record it into gifts in less than a minute. Some day you say to yourself -after the yuletide turns- you’ll make time to absorb a festive Christmas song or two. Then you pause for a millisecond and tinker with the idea, just what are some other cool labor saving gadgets that can be quickly grabbed up to help speed up the holidays this year?