Southern Comfort (1981) ***1/2

The first time that I watched Southern Comfort (1981), five years ago, I wrote that it wasn't really until the last third of the film that it felt like more than just a goofier second cousin to Deliverance (1972) (review), another eviscerated manhood cautionary survival tale warning against backwoods fuckery (in this case National Guardsmen vs. Cajuns). That's not to say that the first two-thirds of the movie, where the excellent cast portray a mixture of machismo, boneheadedness, stone cool, and ineptitude—whilst delivering Walter Hill's snappy dialogue—isn't fun and engaging, but there's a tonal shift that occurs in the final act that ratchets up the tension and pushes the film into the arena of greatness. While I liked the film a bit more on this second viewing (I especially appreciate its foreboding and ambiguous ending), it's still middle tier Hill for me. Ry Cooder's moody, twangy score—featuring slide guitar as murky as the Louisiana bayou of the film—is an all-timer.

Walter Hill Films Ranked