In at least one element, The Magnificent Seven far outstrips its inspiration, Seven Samurai: the music. Elmer Bernstein’s theme here has become THE soundtrack I associate with a western, and I was half surprised to find that it came from this film and not from Bonanza or a John Ford movie. This bold, soaring music is the sonic version of the big, open spaces of the West. It’s fair to call it classic, with no reservations.
The rest of The Magnificent Seven falls short of the source material, though. Sturges tries to preserve the epic breadth of Samurai, but having to cut 1/3 of the running time of the original clearly forces some cuts in scale. We don’t meet all the gunfighters and get to know them; they become more like shallow stereotypes or one-note-nellies than the characters in Samurai. More to the point, we don’t see these samurai, er, gunfighters, interact with each other significantly, so there’s none of the team growth we see in Samurai. Ultimately, we’re not as invested in these characters as we are in Kurosawa’s. For example, Harry, who is supposed to be Chris Larabee’s old friend, only has one major dialog with the leader, and that consists of doubting him. Harry’s one-note is to constantly question villagers about the ulterior motive that Larabee doesn’t have, but there’s not growth or dramatic outcome from it. Likewise, Lee’s sole trope is to fret about fear through his little screen time. He never has any real interaction with any of the team members, though his courage suddenly emerges at the end (for some reason….). The team of The Magnificent Seven doesn’t build, and as viewers, we’re far less involved with them than we are with the samurai.
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