Gunfighter Paradise | Horror Western Review

Poster for Gunfighter Paradise

The intersection of The Coen Brothers and David Lynch is where Gunfighter Paradise, Jethro Waters’s darkly comedic horror western, sits comfortably. A surrealistic look at gun culture, Bible Belt faith, and how grief changes a person, Waters imbues his film with a dark—and desert dry—sense of humor that never undercuts the more horrific and tension filled elements within his loose narrative. 

Gunfighter Paradise is a vibe movie. It’s a meandering slice of life flick anchored by Braz Cubas’s deadpan and stoic performance as the (possibly) schizophrenic Stoner, a man who’s returned home in the wake of his mother’s death with a mysterious green case given to him by his shady uncle. Like the best works of the Coen Brothers, there are plenty of colorful side characters to pop in and out of the proceedings. And like the best works of David Lynch, the film leaves you with more questions than answers. 

Stoner faces zealot neighbors, a pair of Civil War re-enactors, a friendly cable guy, and his late uncle’s psychopathic right-hand man with a cool, dry wit that Cubas delivers perfectly. His expressionless, camo-painted face and mumbling southern drawl play perfectly off a supporting cast that never seems quite sure exactly what Stoner’s deal is. 

The surreal nature of the film allows Waters to explore the psyche of Stoner without getting bogged down with plot points. The narrative remains loose, but the themes run deep. The “god” that speaks to Stoner appears through visions of hellfire and nude women, speaking in a low-pitched, demonic voice. American flags are abundant in his home, and Stoner considers himself a soldier, despite having never served in the military. It’s a complex character, underplayed by Cubas for maximum effect. His emotionally distant performance makes Stoner’s complexities both charming and extremely unnerving. 

At the heart of the film is the relationship between Stoner and Joel (Joel Loften), the cable guy, an old acquaintance that Stoner ends up taking under his wing. Loften is the grounding center of the film. His quietly bewildered reactions to Stoner is the film’s biggest source of humor. A deadly hitman who “has a habit of…smelling things,” a cheeky Arthurian legend homage, and a couch-surfing montage are just a few of the many comedic offerings littered throughout the runtime. 

Aided by a soundscape composed of ethereal score, Christian hymns, folk music, and blues rock, Gunfighter Paradise drips with Southern atmosphere, paying reverence to the region and its culture while also dissecting it. As the title suggests, gun culture is prevalent in the film, but the ending makes clear the destructive power of guns and the dangers of gun worship. 

While the film wears its influences on its sleeve, it’s a wholly unique and promising narrative debut from Jethro Waters. His grasp on tone and character and his eye for beautifully framed visuals make for an always compelling watch, even with the meandering narrative structure of the script. Dry, dark, and deadpan, Gunfighter Paradise is a neo-horror-western for modern America, where the horror comes from the beliefs and mindsets of our neighbors.

Gunfighter Paradise is playing in select theaters Feb. 27.