Top-shelf Charles Bronson thriller that had me yelling at the screen about a dozen times—and I mean that in a good way. I had no idea that gangsters shooting up a pile of watermelons could make me curse so much, but this film did it. It’s got a likable loner hero who gets kicked around by damn near everyone else in the movie and a pack of villains who desperately need to eat a bullet for lunch. This isn’t perfect, but it does suck you in. What it sometimes lacks in sense, it makes up with pure swagger.
Chuck Bronson here is Vince Majestyk, the toughest struggling melon farmer in all of Colorado, if not the entire western United States. He’s a decorated ‘Nam vet, but also an ex-con over a dubious violent assault (a bar fight, which we know full-well that a reserved guy like Chuck didn’t start). This means that the small town police department already don’t like him because of his record. Also, the local, wet-behind-the-ears wannabe crime lord has it in for him because Chuck resists his efforts at weaseling into his melon profits. Along the way, Mr. Bronson further crosses paths with, and humiliates, a big-time professional hit man who now wants revenge. About the only people on his side are the migrant workers he hires.
Meanwhile, none of the bad guys realize that Bronson is a war-hardened badass and a clever strategist behind his calm exterior. They all think that he’s some yokel who’s gonna be an easy kill, but he’s the furthest thing from it. The moment that he figures out the game, he’s five steps ahead of everyone else and the jerks don’t stand a chance. As bullets fly and a few cars get run off of cliffs, not too many of them live to see wah-wah guitar licks go out of fashion in film scores.
Screenplay by Elmore Leonard, who also wrote the novelization (from what I understand, the novel came after the screenplay). There are some parallels here with First Blood. Trade Stallone’s muscles for Bronson’s wrinkles. Also, trade Stallone’s crying scene for Bronson’s romance with pretty Mexican melon-picker Linda Cristal. If you’re just watching the movies, it’s tempting to call this film a forebear to Rambo, but Rambo actually came first via the 1972 novel First Blood by David Morrell. Both characters were created from the same hot and bubbling late 60s, early 70s cultural soup. They were two survivors of an unpopular war who now just want to be left alone. But people won’t leave ’em alone. One thing leads to another and these guys end up, against their wishes, back in combat all over again, but this time on home turf. They can’t call the police because the police are part of the problem. On the bright side, both Majestyk and Rambo are pretty good at killing.