This western's got the guns, horses, saloons ... and macho sensitivity

After screening 3:10 to Yuma, a fellow critic rolled her eyes in my direction and laughed at what a "testosterone-fest" the movie was, what with the guns and the fights and the guns and the explosions and the guns.

I shrugged it off. It's a western, I figured. Whaddya expect, pilgrim ... Meryl Streep as a frontier midwife who brings literacy to the Sioux nation while winning the heart of a dashing cavalry officer? (On second thought, I might better copyright that idea ... it ain't half-bad.)

Well, 3:10 to Yuma has none of that. It's full of guns and horses and spittin' and drinkin' and nekkid women and cussin' and dirt. This is a bonafide "lawless West" pictured here, and it's no place for a lady.

Of course, that's one of the things that's eating at rancher Dan Evans (Christian Bale) as the story begins: the feeling that he's doomed his wife and two sons by bringing them west, only to face drought and destitution. Evans' herd is struggling, and Hollander -- the greedy land baron who holds the deed for Evans' land -- is set on driving the family off so he can sell the land to the railroad.

But the railroad has its own problem, specifically Ben Wade (Russell Crowe) and his gang of outlaws. Wade and his men have heisted $400,000 from trains and stagecoaches, and despite the best efforts of bounty hunters and lawmen, no one seems able to stop them.

On a particularly luckless morning, Evans and his sons are out trying to gather back their scattered cattle when they stumble into the aftermath of Wade's latest holdup. After some cautious conversation, Wade chooses to spare their lives and rides off. Evans sends his boys home and rides into town to find a doctor for the only survivor of the robbery, a Pinkerton agent named Byron McElroy (Peter Fonda), and to confront Hollander about his debt.

Evans charges into the town saloon, prepared to mete out justice with his rifle, but he finds only Wade, emerging from an upstairs tryst with the barmaid. Wade sweet-talks Evans, tossing him a few dollars for being cooperative earlier, but his cockiness gets the better of him; he lingers too long and is captured. Fearing reprisal from his gang, the authorities plan to send Wade immediately to the station at Contention -- a three-day ride -- and the prison train to Yuma. All they need are a few good men to get him there. The offer of $200 to ride escort is too beneficial for Evans to refuse, despite his wife's entreaties. As night falls, Evans and the others head out, each man knowing their mission could end long before they reach Yuma and that crucial 3:10 train.

For keeping with so many other western hallmarks -- guns, horses, saloons, etc. -- there's one thing about 3:10 to Yuma that is conspicuously absent: the sweeping western vista. Part of just about any classic western is a scene or three that seems to be in there for no other reason but to showcase the vast expanse of the unexplored frontier. Nature in all her majesty, endless skies, awe-inspiring buttes and valleys, that sort of thing. But 3:10 to Yuma has practically none of that. The landscape is a blur, an afterthought, because this movie is a story that's told intimately and internally, revealed only in the faces of the lead actors.

Evans is a coward and a cripple, not a man of action. He's the reluctant hero, only stepping up because it's the last chance he may get to preserve his land and his family, to say nothing of his pride. Bale portrays Evans' desperation brilliantly; he wrestles with his conscience throughout the story and grows visibly stronger as more and more of the responsibility for Wade rests on his shoulders.

Wade is in many ways Evans' opposite. He is arrogant and cock-sure. His moments of contemplation and generosity early on in the film are born out of conceit. Crowe fits the part naturally, exuding both charm and swagger.

But as the story progresses, the influence of each man on the other becomes apparent. Each confesses to the other (if indirectly) the weaknesses that have made him the man he is. And, in the end, each provides what the other has needed: for Evans, it's respect and confidence; for Wade, it's a chance to be more than the "bad man" he claims to be. And while I wouldn't go breaking out the tissues just yet, there's enough macho sensitivity therein to make any labels of "testosterone-fest" seem disingenuous.

A great group of actors rounds out the cast well, particularly Ben Foster, who disappears into his performance as Wade's amoral lieutenant, Charlie, and Alan Tudyk in an understated role as a shy veterinarian drafted into the escort party.

The original 3:10 to Yuma -- starring Glenn Ford in a rare "bad guy" role as Wade -- has become a classic in the genre. If there's any justice (and there's no justice like frontier justice), this updated version is sure to join it.

There's little time for eatin' on the way to Contention, and to my knowledge there's nowhere in St. Louis serving up "shot varmint." But while Iron Barley may not have sawdust on the floor and a hitch for your horse, it makes up the difference with an untamed menu and genuinely tasty vittles. You can go all-out ranchero with a strip steak and a side of toasted barley, or ditch the cowboy oeuvre completely with the one-of-a-kind Ballistic Elvis Sammiche. Either way, it's first-rate grub that you won't have to pawn your wife's jewelry -- or rob a stagecoach -- to enjoy.