The Dead Don’t Hurt (2023)
The Dead Don’t Hurt is a Western romance set in the 1860s that follows Vivienne Le Coudy, a French-Canadian immigrant who falls for Danish carpenter Holger Olsen. The pair settle in Nevada, but their budding relationship is disrupted by the Civil War and the violent machinations of the local townsfolk.
Viggo Mortensen’s sophomore directorial effort shows promise but ultimately falls short of its potential. The film’s non-linear structure, while ambitious, muddles the emotional impact of the story. It’s a shame, really, because there are moments of genuine beauty and raw emotion scattered throughout.
Vicky Krieps shines as Vivienne, bringing a quiet strength and complexity to her character that elevates every scene she’s in. Her performance is the heart of the film, and you can’t help but cheer for her as she navigates the harsh realities of frontier life. Mortensen, pulling double duty as director and actor, delivers a solid if somewhat understated performance as Holger.
The film’s cinematography is a real treat for the eyes. Sweeping vistas of the desert and intimate, candlelit interiors are equally stunning. The attention to period detail in the costumes and set design helps immerse you in the world of the 1860s frontier.
But for all its visual splendour, The Dead Don’t Hurt struggles to maintain momentum. The pacing is uneven, with long stretches that drag and fail to advance the plot or deepen our understanding of the characters. It’s like watching a beautifully composed painting dry—pretty to look at, but not exactly riveting.
The supporting cast does their best with what they’re given, but many of the characters feel one-dimensional. Solly McLeod’s Weston Jeffries, in particular, is so cartoonishly evil that he borders on caricature. It’s a missed opportunity to explore the complexities of human nature in a lawless frontier town.
One of the film’s strengths is its exploration of themes like resilience, the impact of violence on individuals and communities, and the struggle for independence in a male-dominated society. These ideas are woven throughout the narrative, giving the film a depth that’s not always present in traditional Westerns.
The score, while competent, doesn’t quite hit the mark. It often feels generic and fails to enhance the emotional resonance of key scenes. A more distinctive soundtrack could have done wonders to elevate the film’s most poignant moments.
Look, I wanted to love this movie. It’s got all the ingredients for a compelling Western drama—star-crossed lovers, corrupt officials, stunning landscapes. But something’s off in the recipe. Maybe it’s the choppy editing that disrupts the flow of the narrative, or perhaps it’s the heavy-handed symbolism that occasionally veers into pretentiousness.
At the end of the day, The Dead Don’t Hurt is a mixed bag. It’s got flashes of brilliance that’ll make you sit up and take notice, but they’re buried under layers of mediocrity. If you’re a die-hard fan of Westerns or Viggo Mortensen, it might be worth a watch. For everyone else? You’re not missing much if you give this one a pass. It’s not a total bust, but it’s not exactly going to knock your boots off either.