The Man In The Seventh Row

by Brian Pendreigh

  Horst Buccholz – Chico – is the first to approach Brynner about joining up. He has the right clothes – a black hat and a leather waistcoat with silver bits – and he has a gun, but perhaps not the right demeanour. The proud, young, hot-headed Mexican is not what Brynner wants, not yet, though Brynner will be convinced in due course.

  The first man hired is Brad Dexter – Harry Luck – though in the public consciousness he is very much the seventh man, the odd one out, the obscure one who was not and never would be a member of that party known as film stars. Harry is convinced that Brynner's story about defending Mexican farmers is a cover for something grander – gold, cattle, maybe payroll.

  Brynner and the Hardy boys meet up again with McQueen in the saloon. He has been offered a job in a grocery store as a clerk. He has heard of a job defending a village in Mexico, but cannot find out what it pays. Twenty dollars for six weeks, says Brynner. That is ridiculous, says McQueen. Brynner explains it is the village of the men with whom he is drinking. One of the Mexicans says that they appreciate McQueen's position, and that working in a grocery store is good, steady work. McQueen asks Brynner how many men he has. Brynner raises a single finger. With a look of weary resignation, and a furrowed brow, McQueen raises two fingers in a gesture that is apparently meant to signify that he will be joining Brynner, though it could be interpreted as a comment on the proposed scale of remuneration.

  Together they ride out to an isolated homestead where a man named O'Reilly is chopping wood for his breakfast. With a single blow of his axe the powerful figure of Charles Bronson cleaves a log in two. A friend of Harry Luck, he is used to hiring out his services for a lot of money, $600 or $800 a time. But right now $20 seems a lot.

  Waiting for Brynner in his room is a southerner dressed like a gambler, with a white shirt, a black lace tie, grey waistcoat and black gloves. Robert Vaughn, the man who would become The Man from UNCLE. Right now he is Lee. Brynner thought Lee was looking for the Johnson Brothers. In a southern drawl, Lee declares that he found them.

  Six. They need one more.

  By a railway halt, two cowboys argue over whether 'He can' or 'He can't'. The audience has no idea who 'he' is, or the subject of the dispute. The one who claims 'He can' warns the other to keep his voice down or 'He' might hear. The second one, an arrogant, hectoring man, does not care. He is prepared to bet two months' salary that 'He' cannot do it. The doubting cowhand lumbers over to a long slim figure lying asleep in the dirt, with his back and head propped against the bottom of a fence, and his hat pulled down over his face to shield it from the sun. Long and slim, the figure looks almost liquid; like it is in the process of melting and, as it does so, has slipped down from an upright position to one that is very nearly horizontal.

  The cowhand calls him Britt and kicks his boots. The camera switches to a close-up of the prone figure, but the audience still cannot see his face, because of the hat pulled down over it. And yet they see a little of it, a thin face with prominent cheek bones and a dimple in the chin.

  He slowly, deliberately, raises a forefinger and pushes his hat back on his head to reveal the slim features and blue eyes not of James Coburn, but of Roy Batty. Anna hardly stirs. She is not aware of ever thinking that she might see Roy again in any film other than Braveheart. If she had tried to rationalise it, she might have expected to see him in Yul Brynner's role in The Magnificent Seven or Steve McQueen's, but somehow she is not surprised he should turn up in one of the other parts. The moment where Britt's features are hidden behind the pulled-down hat is a perfect, teasing introductory scene for him. The character raises a finger and it seems the most natural thing in the world that it is Roy.

  The cowhand says he doesn't believe Roy can do what he claims to be able to do. The audience still does not know the nature of the claims. Roy does not answer, but pulls his hat back down over his face. The cowhand kicks his feet again. Roy rises languidly, and without a word lays a blue metal mug on the fence beside him and gestures for the cowhand to stand opposite him, next to a telegraph pole. Roy holds a knife in his right hand, by his side. At a signal from an onlooker Roy throws his knife at the pole and the cowboy shoots the mug off the fence.

  Roy retrieves his knife. The cowhand claims he won. Roy says nothing, just coolly, calmly, walks away. The cowhand insists Roy confirm that he was faster.

  'You lost,' says Roy, matter-of-factly, walking away once more and settling down in the dust with a fresh cup of coffee. Once more he pulls his hat down over his face. The cowhand stands in front of him, calling him a liar and a coward and challenging him to do it for real. He shoots between his legs and threatens to kill him. They go through the ritual for a second time. By the time the cowhand's gun clears his holster, Roy's knife is embedded in his chest.

  Britt is the best there is, with gun or knife, he cares nothing for money, he enjoys only the danger and the competition. But, if he is the best, with whom does he compete?

  'Himself,' says Brynner in that cold, matter-of-fact way that he has. Britt uses words even more sparingly. Over the space of two scenes, he kills a man, he turns down the chance to join Brynner's band and then he changes his mind and reappears. And he uses only nine words: 'You lost,' 'Call it,' 'Chris' and 'I changed my mind'. But he invests those words with so much power and authority he makes Chris seem verbose.

  Now we are seven.

  The Magnificent Seven ride south to Oliver Hardy's little village. Chico makes a speech, Steve McQueen bemoans the absence of young women, Harry falls in with the local card game, O'Reilly befriends the children, including Johnnie, a white-skinned, red-haired boy, who is always climbing, climbing trees, climbing up on roofs, climbing to the top of the bell tower of the modest little church. Lee has trouble with his nerves. Yul Brynner talks with the old man of the village. He is not a farmer like the others, or even a Mexican. He is a plump, jolly figure, with a white bushy beard. A central American Santa Claus.

  Britt shoots Wallach's scouts, shooting the last one out of the saddle just as he is about to disappear over the hill. Chico proclaims it the greatest shot he has ever seen. But Britt is disgusted with himself: he was aiming for the horse. Chico finds the young women of the village, hiding from the American mercenaries, and he finds romance. And Wallach comes back.

  He is confronted by Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen and Roy Batty. Wallach and Brynner trade short, threatening sentences, like boxers finding each other's range. Wallach scoffs at the idea that his band of forty could be intimidated by just three gunfighters. Harry and Lee step forward. Five. And Chico. Six. And O'Reilly announces his presence on a roof. Seven. Wallach is still not impressed. Unfortunately for him he does not know they are not just any ordinary seven, but the Magnificent Seven. He needs food for the winter and they have not solved his problem. Brynner says solving problems is not their line.

  'We deal in lead,' says McQueen, and the Seven show Wallach's men a sample of their mettle.

  Wallach retreats and regroups. Chico infiltrates his band and passes himself off as one of them. He even manages to talk to Wallach himself, for Chico is a master of disguise: he knows that all he needs to do is put on a sombrero and Wallach will mistake him for one of his band. Chico reports that Wallach's men are starving and will be forced to attack the village again. The villagers are disheartened. There is a defeatist element among them.

  Brynner and his men go to attack Wallach's camp, but the bandits are gone. The Seven ride back to the village to find Wallach is already there. He lets them live. He takes their guns, but only as a gesture, and he even promises to return them in the hills outside the village. All they have to do is ride away.

  Britt straps on his gunbelt.

  'Which way are you heading?' asks Harry.

  'Back,' says Britt.

  'But they won't even help. They don't want us. You must be crazy.'

  'I never got a chance to say goodbye,' says Britt. 'I can't ride on till I say goodbye.'

  One by one the others gather around his ta
ll, lean figure, strapping on their guns too. McQueen says he belongs in the village. Brynner tells Lee he does not need to go, that he does not owe anything to anybody.

  'Except to myself,' Lee drawls, stepping down from his horse to collect his guns.

  As day breaks over the desert landscape, figures move silently through the village. So slim is Britt that he looks like a figure made from twisted wire. With his gun drawn, he takes up position behind a wall. McQueen, it is, who is suddenly confronted by one of the bandits. And the shooting begins.

  Brynner races around the village, his rifle blazing. Britt stands firm behind his wall, picking off bandits whenever they show their faces. Chico disappears into a building. There are gunshots and cries from within. A few seconds later he emerges from the other side and rushes off, leaping walls like a hurdler. The old man rushes at a bandit with a machete, no, not a machete, a meat cleaver, and expertly turns a bandit into a side of beef. O'Reilly takes up position on a roof, where he is joined by little, red-haired Johnnie, who throws condoms, filled with water, onto the bandits below.

  McQueen goes down, shot in the leg. He pulls himself up, dragging his injured leg behind him. He ties a make-shift tourniquet around it. Harry dies in Brynner's arms, with Brynner assuring him that they were really there for the gold. Lee faces up to his own personal demons, kicks open a door and confronts the bandits within. He steps outside again and just stands there, with his pistol in his hand, waiting to be shot. He pirouettes as the bullet hits him and he goes to make peace with his god. Never again would Robert Vaughn produce a performance to match this one.

  Wallach has Brynner in his sights, but the latter, as unexcitable as ever, spots him and shoots him. Wallach turns, spins, falls, bounces, overacting to the very end. Brynner stands over him and Wallach dies with the word 'Why?' on his lips. Brynner says nothing. Some things cannot be explained in words. Some things just are. Brynner spins his pistol and drops it into the holster.

  Britt blasts away. He drops to the ground. He seems to be hit. But, no, it was almost as if he knew there was a bullet with his name on it coming. And he drops just before it arrives. He defies his fate, defies his script, and lives on. As the battle ends, just as victory is achieved, O'Reilly becomes the final casualty.

  The dust settles. The music slows. Brynner strides. The farmers return to their fields. Johnnie and the other boys place flowers on O'Reilly's grave beneath a simple wooden cross, one in a row of three. Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen, Horst Buchholz and Roy Batty prepare to leave. But first they go to see the old man.

  For the first time in the film Roy seems to hesitate, unsure what to do. The old man throws his arms around him. They look at each other, needing no words to say what must be said between them. The old man's eyes point to the house and Roy walks forward alone. On the floor is a little, coffee-coloured girl, singing to her doll, an ET doll. She is singing 'Over the Rainbow'.

  She looks up, wide blue eyes looking out from her dark face.

  'Dada,' she shouts and she races towards him. He catches her and spins her round. For the first time he smiles.

  'I'll look after her,' says a voice from the doorway. 'I promise, Roy.' The old man is a dark shadow against the brightness of the Mexican day.

  For a long time Roy just squeezes his daughter to his breast, as if he fears that if he relaxes his grip she will disappear. Tears run freely down his cheeks. From his pocket he produces a little box and gives it to her.

  'Dada, I wondered where that had gone,' she says with glee, turning the handle to produce a twangy rendition of 'Singin' in the Rain'.

  With one finger, Roy pushes his hat back on his head.

  'Grandad will look after you now,' he says.

  She looks up at him.

  'Bye-bye, Dada,' she says. 'See you later.'

  'Adios, Rosebud,' he says, and he walks out without looking back.

  The others are already mounted. Seeing the watering of Roy's eyes, Brynner asks if he is alright.

  'Aye,' says Roy. 'Of course. It's those damn cats again.'

  On the edge of town they stop. A young woman looks forlornly after Chico. Bynner nods to him and says 'Adios'. Chico rides back to where the women are making flour from maize. He unstraps his gunbelt and joins them.

  Only three of the Seven remain on the little hill at the edge of town. They exchange looks.

  'It's time to say goodbye,' says Brynner to Roy. 'Your trail leads in a different direction.' Roy nods. Brynner and McQueen turn their horses and Roy watches them go. He rides towards the camera and then past it or over it or through it, but anyway he too is gone.

  The camera cuts to a shot of the old man and the little girl standing hand in hand. The words 'The End' appear over a shot of Brynner and McQueen riding off together. They died long ago. But there they are, up on the screen, larger than life.

  ***

  Anna searches in her bag for a tissue. Finally she summons a single, whispered word, issued through stifled sobs.

  'Goodbye.'

  31

  As Anna digs down to the deepest recesses of her bag for her keys, she realises that the familiar music she heard in the stair is coming from behind her own door; familiar because she was hearing that music only an hour ago, the swell of Elmer Bernstein's violins sweeping the Magnificent Seven to their destiny. She is sure that she did not leave the television on and she knows that housebreakers do not normally watch television, not even when The Magnificent Seven is showing. Her hand is shaking slightly and she has difficulty getting the key into the lock.

  Obviously little Roy would not settle at her sister's house and they have had to bring him home to more familiar surroundings. She shouldn't have left him for the night. How ironic that The Magnificent Seven should be playing on television. And would Roy be 'watching' it or was he asleep in bed?

  As soon as she enters the room she sees that the film has reached the scene where the cowboy challenges Britt to pit his knife against the cowboy's speed on the draw. The long, slim figure of Britt lies asleep on the ground with his head propped against the fence and his hat pulled down over his face. The cowhand kicks Britt's boots. Britt slowly, deliberately, raises a forefinger and pushes his hat back on his head to reveal the thin, almost emaciated features of James Coburn.

  'Hello,' says Roy, emerging from the kitchen, with a Budweiser in one hand and a glass of whisky in the other. 'I hope I didn't startle you.'

  He hands her the whisky and she knocks it back in one.

  'Of course you startled me,' she says. 'You disappear for a year and then one night I come home and you're drinking my beer and watching a western on the television, as if ... as if . .'

  Words fail her.

  'Not just any western,' he says. 'You look well, Anna.'

  They stand there facing each other, Anna clutching her empty whisky glass, Roy holding the bottle of Budweiser at his side, as if they are playing out some weird parody of Britt and the gunfighter on the television. The cowboy collapses with Britt's knife in his chest and Anna goes to refill her glass. When she returns she notices for the first time that Roy has removed a picture from the wall. He is perched on the couch, with the remote control in his hand. Laid on the armrest at the other end of the couch is the picture.

  'He looks just like his father,' she says.

  Roy looks up and his eyes follow her gaze to the photograph of the little, chubby-cheeked baby in an all-in-one blue suit, staring doubtfully at the camera. Draining her second glass of whisky, Anna realises her hand is still shaking.

  'I called him after you.'

  'What?' says Roy. 'Britt?'

  'No, Roy, Roy. You are Roy Batty, not Britt whatever his name is.'

  'Yes,' says Roy, as if he had not considered it before. 'I am Roy Batty.'

  He flicks the channel control. Chinatown is playing. Chinatown, with Faye Dunaway and Jack Nicholson.

  'I've been away,' he says. 'I had to go away.'

  He changes channels again. Dustin Hoffman is tryin
g to order a hotel room for his liaison with Anne Bancroft, but seems unsure of his name when it comes to registering.

  'I had to say goodbye,' says Roy.

  Anna nods.

  'I know,' she says. 'I know all about the old man.'

  Blade Runner is moving towards its climax on the television. Harrison Ford's grip is giving way. He is about to plunge to the street below. Rutger Hauer reaches out an arm and saves him.

  'I'm back now,' says Roy, talking to Anna, but keeping one eye on the television. 'I think I'm better now.'

  'Have you come to stay?' asks Anna.

  'With you?' he asks. She nods.

  'That would be presumptuous of me,' he says. 'I didn't know if you wanted me to come back and stay. But ... but the way back ... It brought me here. And then I saw the baby. I could see his picture on your wall from there.'

  He points a finger at the television, which is once again playing The Magnificent Seven: Eli Wallach confronts Yul Brynner and Steve McQueen and James Coburn.

  'We don't really know each other,' he says.

  'Oh, I think we are beginning to,' she says.

  Roy flicks the channel on the television again, to Blade Runner. Harrison Ford, battered, bruised, still alive, is musing on why Roy Batty – Rutger Hauer – saved his life, that maybe in the end he loved life more than he ever had before, that all he wanted was to know where he came from and where he was going. And then Ford returns to his apartment and finds Sean Young waiting for him.

  Maybe in the end the other Roy Batty, the one with Anna, realised that he too loved life too much to let it go. Or at least thought it worthy of another chance. Maybe he found some answers in the movies, about where we come from and where we are going.

  Anna knows where he is now, and will not let him slip through her fingers again.

  'I don't know how long we'll have together,' she says. 'But then again who does?'