The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)

Jimmy Stewart is, as always, great—though there’s something almost endearingly absurd about watching him play what I assume is a twenty-year-old while wearing the crows-feet and jowls of a man pushing forty. But somehow, it works. The film’s energy is a little disorienting at first, but before I knew it, it had burrowed into my emotions. By the end, it felt almost transcendental.

What surprised me most was the film’s underlying message—one that quietly resists the pull of wealth and power, placing its faith instead in the integrity of law and the strength of community. That trust is tested, of course, and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance doesn’t offer easy answers. The titular death is subtle and brutal in the way real violence often is—unsanctimonious, stripped of grandeur.

While at times preachy, the overall character of the film is something I really appreciate.