Brad reviews Samuel Fuller’s RUN OF THE ARROW (1957), starring Rod Steiger and Charles Bronson!

Posted on November 23, 2025 by Bradley Crain

RUN OF THE ARROW opens up on April 9th, 1963, with confederate sharpshooter O’Meara (Rod Steiger) shooting a Union lieutenant named Driscoll (Ralph Meeker). This turns out to be the final shot fired in the Civil War as General Lee is in the process of surrendering to General Grant. It also turns out to be Driscoll’s lucky day, as a slight warping of the bullet causes O’Meara’s aim to be off just enough for him to survive. With no more war to fight and with a heart full of hate for the Yankees, O’Meara declares himself to be a man without a country and decides to head out west towards the land of the Indians. As part of his travels he happens across Walking Coyote (Jay C. Flippen), an aging, renegade Sioux scout who’s headed back home to die. Walking Coyote takes O’Meara under his wing and teaches him the Sioux language, as well as many of their customs. When they’re captured by a band of Sioux warriors led by Crazy Wolf (H.M. Wynant), and are being prepared to be killed, Walking Coyote invokes the “run of the arrow”, a ritualistic game that could save their lives. Unfortunately, no one has ever survived the run of the arrow. But today, it seems there’s a first time for everything, as O’Meara survives just long enough to be found, hidden, and saved by the beautiful Indian squaw Yellow Moccasin (Sarita Montiel). Yellow Moccasin nurses him back to health and presents him to her tribal chief, Blue Buffalo (Charles Bronson), who spares his life since he survived the run. Blue Buffalo also welcomes O’Meara into their tribe and allows O’Meara and Yellow Moccasin, who have fallen in love, to get married and adopt the mute orphan boy, Silent Tongue, as their own son. Things seem to be going well until Sioux Leader Red Cloud (Frank DeKova) and Army General Allen (Tim McCoy) reach an agreement that allows for an Army Fort to be built in a narrowly defined area. While the construction of the fort is entrusted to an honest man of integrity named Captain Clark (Brian Keith), the agreement is ultimately sabotaged by the murderous Crazy Wolf, and then further by the Indian hating Captain Driscoll… yes, that same Union soldier that O’Meara shot on the last day of the war! When the fighting starts again, will O’Meara prove himself to truly be a Sioux warrior willing to kill American army soldiers, or is a part of his heart still with his country?

Director Samuel Fuller’s RUN OF THE ARROW is a movie about the damage that occurs when human beings allow their hearts to be so filled with bitterness and hate that they quit caring about other people. It’s also about what happens when those same people run into rational people of good will, and we find out if they’re still capable of even considering the possibility that their own hate has blinded them from the truth. In other words, it’s a film that’s possibly more relevant today than it was when it was made in 1957. Bitterness and hate is represented by the characters of O’Meara (Steiger), Crazy Wolf (Wynant), and Lieutenant Driscoll (Meeker). O’Meara hates Yankees, Crazy Wolf hates the white man, and Driscoll hates the Indians. The rational people of good will are the characters of Yellow Moccasin (Montiel), Blue Buffalo (Bronson), and Captain Clark (Keith). Yellow Moccasin saves O’Meara, when everyone else would have just let him die. Blue Buffalo engages in honest conversation with O’Meara and even welcomes him into their tribe. Captain Clark shows O’Meara an empathetic ear and kindness when so many others have told him to just get over himself. The actions and fates of the characters play out against this dynamic of hatred versus humanity, with the results underscoring just how tragic it is when people focus on the things that separate us rather than the things that unite us. It’s all so unnecessary, but it’s also a realistic vision of the world we live in. The film also struck me as particularly violent for a 50’s western, which also underscores that reality.

Some of the performances are very effective in the film. Rod Steiger’s Irish, confederate Sioux is an interesting character and the actor gives it his all as you’d expect. I’m a big fan of Steiger and his performance here only solidifies my respect for him. Brian Keith’s Captain Clark arrives fairly late in the proceedings and comes across as a tough, but honest man of integrity at a point when the movie really needs him. He has an excellent scene with Steiger where he debates the old confederate’s reasons for renouncing his citizenship with both sound logic, empathy, kindness and a hint of likable sarcasm all at the same time. It’s one of the best scenes in the film. And likewise, Charles Bronson, the most buff Hollywood Indian to ever strip down to a loincloth, comes across as a reasonable and kind tribal chief in his dealings. Bronson had played Indians before, but he was usually more of the renegade, warpath variety, so it was nice seeing him as a good guy here. H.M. Wynant took the renegade Indian role here which you might have expected for Bronson at the time. He’s suitably fierce but one-dimensional. The same can be said for Ralph Meeker as Lieutenant Driscoll. He’s pretty much just a stereotypical jerk. He’s good at being a jerk though! And Sarita Montiel, voiced by Angie Dickinson, is quite the beauty as Yellow Moccasin. We discussed H.M. Wynant and RUN OF THE ARROW with author Steven Peros on the “This Week in Charles Bronson Podcast.” Check out that interview below:

I’ve recently heard RUN OF THE ARROW compared to Kevin Costner’s DANCES WITH WOLVES, and there are definitely many similarities. I won’t go into all of those here, but one of the things I appreciated the most about RUN OF THE ARROW is the fact that the movie makes its feelings known about politics. In a movie filled with characters who have had their lives upended by the various decisions of political leaders, director Samuel Fuller has crafted a story that focuses most sharply on defining the quality of men based on what’s in their “hearts.” When it’s all said and done, oftentimes the only control we have is the way we respond to the events in our lives, and that’s not politics, it’s personal. To drive this home, in one of their conversations, Walking Coyote tells O’Meara that he could have been a chief if he had wanted to be. When O’Meara pushes the old scout on why he didn’t want the position, Walking Coyote responds with, “Because I hate politics!” On that point, I couldn’t agree more.

Review: Silent Night (dir. by John Woo)

Posted on November 23, 2025 by Arleigh

“I can’t speak, but I’ll make them listen.” — Brian Godlock

Silent Night (2023) finds John Woo making his first American action film in two decades, since the disappointing Paycheck in 2003. While it’s definitely a step up from that sci-fi thriller misfire, Silent Night still doesn’t quite reach the heights of Woo’s Hong Kong classics or even his best Western productions like Face/Off. This latest outing is a lean, mostly dialogue-free revenge thriller that has Woo’s fingerprints all over it—a mix of balletic violence and emotional anguish—but it also shows the limitations of trying to recapture that old Woo magic in a very different cinematic landscape.

The story is simple: Joel Kinnaman plays Brian Godlock, an electrician whose son is killed in a gang shootout on Christmas Eve, and he himself is shot in the throat, losing his voice. The film then follows Brian’s quiet but brutal quest for revenge a year later. The choice to tell this nearly wordless story is a bold gamble, and for much of the film, the absence of dialogue adds power to the emotions and the tension. Kinnaman’s physical performance carries most of the weight—his grief, anger, and determination are all conveyed through body language and expression. This is one of the biggest strengths of Silent Night: Woo’s ability to communicate story and feeling visually, which harkens back to the silent films of early cinema, blending with his signature poetic violence.

That said, the silence also highlights the script’s thinness. The supporting characters, including Brian’s wife (Catalina Sandino Moreno) and a sympathetic detective (Kid Cudi), feel underdeveloped, serving more as plot functions than full people. This narrow focus on Brian’s pain and revenge means the film sometimes feels emotionally shallow beyond the core trauma. Compared to Woo’s earlier work, where secondary characters and relationships added layers of complexity and intensity, Silent Night is more singular and direct, for better and worse.

When it comes to action, Woo shows he still has the chops. The gunfights and hand-to-hand scenes are meticulously choreographed, emphasizing realism with a solid dose of stylized flair. It’s a return to the grounded grit Woo displayed in some of his earlier Hong Kong films, leaving behind some of the higher-octane operatic excess of his best-known Hollywood hits. The violence feels impactful and earned, avoiding cheap spectacle for a more tactile, bone-crunching effect.

Still, Silent Night doesn’t quite have the scope and scale of Face/Off or The Killer. It lacks the grandeur and intricate storytelling that made those films iconic. Instead, it’s a tighter, moodier experience that prioritizes emotional atmosphere over plot complexity. This stripped-down approach is refreshing to a degree, but it can also become monotonous—especially since the lack of dialogue and limited character development demand more patience from the viewer.

Comparing it directly to Paycheck, Silent Night is a clear improvement. Paycheck was widely regarded as a forgettable action film that failed to capitalize on Woo’s talents, stuck with a muddled sci-fi plot and lacking the emotional firepower Woo excels at. Silent Night ditches the high-concept sci-fi for a more grounded, personal revenge story, allowing Woo to bring more of his hallmarks to bear—the intense physical performances, a palpable sense of loss, and carefully crafted action sequences.

However, it’s important to temper enthusiasm with the fact that Silent Night is not a full return to Woo’s prime Hong Kong cinema or his best Hollywood days. It’s missing some of the poetry, charm, and iconic bravado of movies like Hard Boiled or Face/Off, where Woo’s characters felt larger than life and the action was operatic and unforgettable. Here, the film often feels restrained, even muted, perhaps reflecting a director adapting to new cinematic expectations but also struggling to fully bring himself back to the forefront in the American industry.

Silent Night is a worthwhile viewing for fans of John Woo and action cinema looking for something different—one part homage to classic revenge tales, one part experiment in silent storytelling. It’s emotionally raw, visually precise, and markedly better than Paycheck, but it also lacks the fire and inventiveness that made Woo a legend. It’s a step forward and a reminder that even the greatest filmmakers can evolve and sometimes falter. If Woo is finding his voice again, it’s decidedly quieter but still unmistakably his own.