The Lone Ranger: Pirates of the Wild West -

The Lone Ranger: Pirates of the Wild West

Johnny Depp’s Tonto is a lost cause, a slapstick noble savage chasing his own authenticity


Johnny Depp (left) and Armie Hammer in 'The Lone Ranger' / courtesy of Disney Enterprises

I’m old enough to remember watching The Lone Ranger on TV as a young boy in the 1950s. It was one of two western buddy series that were popular in the extremely limited universe of this new black-and-white miracle called television.  The other was The Cisco Kid. Both involved a cartoon-like minority sidekick—Tonto, the The Lone Ranger‘s virtually mute Native companion, and Pancho, the jolly Mexican who served as the Cisco Kid’s second banana. (I assume both Tonto and Pancho are uncredited clones of Don Quixote‘s Sancho Panza.) Now Johnny Depp tries to turn the old cowboys-and-Indians business on its head with a blockbuster adventure that elevates Tonto from silent sidekick to the story’s true hero. He is introduced with a corny framing device. In a natural history museum, a young boy in a Lone Ranger costume stumbles across a diorama of “The Noble Savage in His Natural Habitat,” featuring a relic of an aged Tonto, who suddenly comes to life and starts to tell the boy the “truth” about the legend of the masked man.

It’s an awkward set-up for an overcharged agenda—an attempt to correct a cliché of frontier history and create an all-you-can eat western stocked with every cliché in the book. At the heart of it, Depp takes on an impossible task, trying to breathe life into the wooden stereotype of Hollywood’s noble savage with an oddball mix of hocus pocus and deadpan farce. His newly empowered Tonto, of course, is no mere sidekick. He actually creates the Lone Ranger, as he rescues an earnest lawman named John Reid (Armie Hammer), the sole survivor of a criminal ambush, and hands him his mask and his outlaw mission. Throughout the movie, Tonto is in charge behind the scenes, while the blustering Lone Ranger serves as his not-too-swift straight man. In the blockbuster biz, this is known as an origin story—designed to originate a hero, and maybe a franchise.

But it seems doubtful this $250 million epic will do well enough to justify sequels. There’s no modern precedent for a blockbuster western. The landmark westerns of the past few decades have been high-pedigree Oscar dramas, such as Dances With Wolves, Unforgiven and True Grit. As for a western franchise, there hasn’t been one in living memory, unless we count Star Wars. Of course, this isn’t just a western. The movie’s transparent intent is to cast Depp as the outlaw anti-hero of a frontier Pirates of the Caribbean, a Pirates of the Wild West. But the actor seems to be in over his head, as he struggles to to restore the dignity of a Native character who never had any dignity in the first place—though in the TV series he was at least played by a Native, Canadian Mohawk Jay Silverheels.

In an previous piece—A white man as Tonto—is that kosher?—I speculated about Depp’s latest trickster incarnation, wondering if he could get away with playing such a meta stereotype. I’m not sure he does. He’s dancing as fast as he can, trying to animate a wooden Indian, but he only seems to dig himself in deeper with every move. Depp never seems fully comfortable in the role, and not just because he’s got a dead bird on his head. Tonto, who is so clearly akin to Pirates‘ Jack Sparrow, lacks Sparrow’s blithe authority and stumbling self-possession. As his anxious eyes dart from whiteface warpaint (a more impenetrable mask than the Lone Ranger’s), Depp seems to be hiding behind a cautious reverence for a mystical Native America. His Tonto, a trickster/sage willing to play the white man’s fool, is more of a totemic construct than a character, a slapstick Indian chasing his own authenticity. And when he speaks—something the original Tonto rarely did—his “accent” sounds contrived, still rooted in a toxic stereotype. (The formula: speak perfectly good English with a halting cadence and omit the articles.) It’s unoriginal, and a far cry from the brilliant, rubbery diction that Depp pirated from Keith Richards to create Jack Sparrow. Hammer, in fact, shows more wit and poise than his co-star, even though his character has been demoted to a bit of dufus.

And the movie? Produced by Pirates mogul Jerry Bruckheimer and directed by Pirates veteran Gore Verbinski, it’s a rollicking action adventure that leaves no trope unturned. This is a western made by a guy who wants to pay tribute to every western ever made, in case he never gets another chance. Verbinski cooks up a dog’s breakfast of styles, with homages running the gamut from John Ford to Sergio Leone. And in case you don’t catch the Leone references, the score generously quotes Morricone. There are also bouts of antic comedy that owe a grand debt to Buster Keaton, plus enough special effects and impossible stunts to qualify our heroes as bona fide superheroes, though they have no special powers aside from mythic branding.

The philosophy behind the movie, which stretches to two-and-a-half hours seems to be the same one that inspired the all-you-can-eat Vegas buffet. Just give ’em lots of everything. There’s a full declension of villains, including a railway baron (Tom Wilkinson), a cavalry officer (Barry Pepper)—and a butt-ugly cannibal played by a snaggle-toothed William Fitchner. This western is no place for a woman, but a couple of actress flit in and out in thankless roles, including Helena Bonham Carter as a sharp-shooting peg-legged madam. Oh, I almost forgot. A horde of rabbits with fangs also make a brief and mysterious appearance in the desert. Why? Who knows. The filmmakers have boasted that this movie, unlike Pirates of the Caribbean, takes place in the “real” world, without supernatural elements. But I guess when someone suggested rabbits with fangs, they just couldn’t help themselves. There’s no logic to the story, just a bunch of stuff. Even the Lone Ranger’s eventual transformation from bumbling greenhorn to virtuosic cowboy action hero just happens, with no real explanation .

On the plus side, the movie offers ample spectacle, with stunning vistas that give Utah’s iconic Monument Valley a starring role (though the story is set in Texas). And much of the action is thrilling, if preposterous. A lot of it takes place on a train, an iron horse that absurdly competes with the flesh-and-blood variety as the Lone Ranger rides Silver along the top of the rail cars. Overall, I have to admit enjoying the stunts, the horses and some of the extravagant set pieces—just grateful to be watching humans and animals tearing up a natural landscape, rather than aliens and zombies warring over the apocalypse. The movie’s pièce de résistance is a climactic action sequence set to a rousing, marathon version of the William Tell Overture, the TV’s show theme that made everyone forget William Tell. It’s a fabulous payoff to a shambling mess of a movie. Having watched the TV show so often, and at such a tender age, I felt as if my entire DNA was joining in. How younger audience might respond, I have absolutely no clue. And I suppose that’s true of the whole picture.


The Lone Ranger: Pirates of the Wild West

  1. Tonto and Qui no sabe both can mean stupid in Spanish. Who made up these names?

  2. beautifully written brian….just touching on the whole minstrelsy thing whose deep irony is only dimly grasped today……do ya think we’ll see the tonto character from this film make an appearance in the next pirates of the carribean?

    • Beautifully written, my a$$.

      This Brian guy writes like the most stuck up worm I have ever had the misfortune of reading-seriously, how many times & in different ways can a person call something or someone wooden?

      And BTW, what’s so offensive Brian about Depp using a native accent-do you think they don’t have one? What’s with the “…rooted in a toxic stereotype…’ comment?

      You are so wrapped up in your misguided white man guilt & pretentiousness as to render your drivel worthless.

      • Holy bile, JeyRome! As a review this was indeed well-written: the good parts, the bad parts, why things were working or not. Ultimately he punts because he loved the Lone Ranger as a kid: fair enough. “Rooted in a toxic stereotype” is 100-year-long tradition of natives portrayed as monosyllabic savages… by white guys. Try to keep up.

        • Naw, he’s just over-inflated & pretentious & I guess if you like your men that way that’s up to you.

  3. I agree 100% with Brian, I was really hoping this movie would be good enough to kick start a series of brand new reinvented, modern western movies that could be enjoyed by the modern age. I believe a hero that must rely on his wits and skills is a little more believable than one who can rely on “powers” or mechanical suits to do the fighting for him. Don’t get me wrong all of these new superhero movies are quite entertaining and capture the veiwer. I just think that the world, especially the youth in the world could use a new form of hero, one that could be real with no special powers or gadgets who fights for the greater good. A more old fashioned type of hero. However, I have trouble seeing any director try and take on a western like this anytime in the near future based on this movie.

  4. Excuse me, but since when Depp has a good diction? He never did. He lacks that very specific acting skill as the few others. He has horrible diction in Pirates but then again – how this could be said about the favorite and obedient actor of Jerry Bruckheimer, right? The truth is: when Depp plays a sidekick or a catalyst and comic relief character – that is his place. He fits that type of roles under the proper directing. However, he can’t carry a movie on his own. Look how badly it turned with Pirates when Bloom and Knightly decided to leave the franchise. It ended the POTC that many fans love and brought some rubbish called On Stranger Tides. Sparrow stopped being interesting and the personage was OOC. Depp is typecasted and he can’t get out of it. In The Lone Ranger we see the same Depp Sparrow, only now he is painted black and white and has a dead crow on his head.

    When in the movies as such Bruckheimer decides that everything and everyone in the movie have to work for his favorite Depp – that leads to ruin. Because Depp doesn’t work for everyone and for everything. He can’t play a stragiht good guy hero to make it interesting. He is not Orlando Bloom or Harrison Ford. Indiana Jones movies don’t work without Indiana Jones and POTC movies don’t work without Will Turner. There are rules that even Jerry Bruckheimer’s money can’t break. Thankfully.

    The Lone Ranger needed a strong hero that could give Depp a support, something to play of. Not otherwise. Simple as that.