"3:10 To Yuma"

After decades of celluloid adoration, the western, some said, died back in the mid-'60s. Gene Autry and John Wayne and Randolph Scott had gotten too old, and Gary Cooper rode off in '61. Seemed maybe Hollywood had moved along. But then came Butch and Sundance, "The Wild Bunch" and some foreigner named Sergio Leone. We were back in the saddle again.

The Hollywood western has managed to come and go several times since then; notable efforts included Kevin Costner's "Dances with Wolves" in 1990 and Clint Eastwood's "Unforgiven" two years later. Even the lavish '80s gave us a few good moments thanks to the Larry McMurtrypenned mini-series "Lonesome Dove" in '89.

The new millennium's already played a few good hands with the genre, looking at new angles for new stories (with no "Brokeback" references intended). Costner again scored with "Open Range" in 2003- if not a great western, certainly a watchable compilation of many old themes. Last year's underrated "Seraphim Falls" had some decent moments. And many are anticipating Brad Pitt as Jesse James in a film opening later this month.

Maybe the western never really dies, just crouches amid the rocks like some renegade bushwacker, waiting for the right moment to spring. I suspect the startling remake of the classic "3:10 To Yuma" may be the varmint's current moment of choice.

I am, by the way, a fan of the genre, and my favorite westerns have never been about blazing guns (just as my favorite war films haven't been about the wars nor my favorite sports films about the sport).

Among my personal cowboy favorites, I list efforts like "The Ox-Bow Incident" and "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance"- and also, conveniently enough, "3:10 To Yuma." Fifty years ago Van Heflin and Glenn Ford starred in the film, about a rancher who secretly holds an outlaw in a nearby town, until the Yuma-bound train stops and the killer (Ford) can be shipped off to prison. But the outlaw's gang discovers where their boss is hidden, and the trouble begins.

I considered the film more a battle of wits than a battle of sixshooters, and even though the effort was rife with flaws (e.g., those apparent opportunities for the wily, wanted Ben Wade to escape or for gentle rancher Dan Evans to back down without guilt), it still made a remarkable story.

Director James Mangold has cast Russell Crowe in Glenn Ford's boots, and Christian Bale plays Dan Evans, a destitute Arizona rancher who needs the $200 bounty to save his spread and his family and who agrees to keep vigil on Ben Wade, secretly stashed in the nearby town of Contention, awaiting the 3:10 to Yuma. But the law's attempt to trick Wade's outlaw friends fails, and Evans must soon confront the value of his own soul.

This new version is sharper, more astute, far more emotionally complicated than director Delmer Daves' original film- but also far more explosive. Expect a much higher body count in the remake, which manages to hold true as it radically departs from the original script.

That's not to say Mangold's film is flawless: There are a couple of puzzling decisions that, while they don't ring entirely false, might raise an eyebrow or two. Then again, these are desperate men in a desperate situation and any pretense of rational thought has long vanished.

Crowe's character and Bale's make exceptional adversaries- and the Biblereciting, quickkilling Ben Wade may bring another Oscar nomination for Crowe. Much like Glenn Ford's performance, Crowe's depiction of the outlaw is understated, one might even say gracious. And despite the easy smile and the twinkle of his eye, Ben Wade is, by his own admission, a man without redemption, and he spends most of the film proving the point.

Yet most provocative in "Yuma" are those rich, rare moments when Wade and Evans compare spiritual notes, only to discover they aren't so different after all. "3:10 to Yuma" may be classified a Western, but its underlying story isn't so easily corralled.