The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

A powerful new western recreates the last days of the mythic outlaw, writes Michael Dwyer

SUCH was the celebrity Jesse James attracted as an outlaw that his exploits were generating myths in songs and dime novels even during his own short lifetime, and in a hit touring play shortly after his death in 1882. It was inevitable that film-makers would be drawn to his fascinating, flawed personality, and that he would become a character in dozens of productions from the silent movie era onwards.

James was first portrayed on screen by his own son, Jesse James Jr, in a couple of 1921 westerns, and later by Tyrone Power and Audie Murphy. James Dean, Robert Wagner, James Coburn and Rob Lowe have played James in TV dramas. Robert Duvall memorably portrayed him in The Great Northfield Minnesota Raid (1972), and Colin Farrell took the role in his second Hollywood movie, American Outlaws (2001).

None of those earlier films match Andrew Dominik's admirably ambitious and expansive picture of the last seven months of the outlaw's life. At the recent Venice Film Festival, the jury gave Brad Pitt the best actor award for his thoughtful, authoritative performance as James, despite formidable competition from Casey Affleck's revelatory, subtly detailed portrayal of his sycophantic killer, Robert Ford.

Working from a novel by Ron Hansen, Dominik's screenplay begins early in September 1881, as Jesse and his older brother Frank (Sam Shepard) are preparing for what will be their last audacious train robbery. Jesse is about to mark his 34th - and last - birthday. Having killed at least 17 men and made many more enemies, Jesse is fuelled with a deep sense of paranoia, and is as acutely aware of his mortality as he is of his mythologised image.

In the Missouri woodlands hideout of the gang, fawning 19-year-old Robert Ford asks to join them, claiming he is destined for great things. Frank brusquely rebuffs him, but Jesse is more receptive to Ford's obsequious approach and allows him into the gang - and into his life.

Ford is Jesse's No 1 fan, and anyone who has read or seen Misery will anticipate the consequences, even if they haven't been flagged in the title. While it is implicit that Bob Ford's worship may be rooted in lust, Jesse is sufficiently flattered to tolerate Ford's starstruck presence. "I can't figure it out," he says to Ford. "Do you want to be like me, or to be me?"

To be like Jesse James, according to this film, was not to be the heroic Robin Hood figure depicted in some earlier productions, but to be a ruthless, cold-blooded killer travelling the rugged countryside as an angel of death settling scores with steely determination. The only time Jesse reveals a human, caring side is during his infrequent times with his wife (Mary-Louise Parker) and children.

Running close on three hours, Dominik's accomplished western is directed at a perfectly measured pace that exerts a consistently compelling hold. The brooding tone of the elegiac movie finds a perfect counterpoint in the score by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, and it is played out against vast landscapes, magnificently photographed by Roger Deakins.

This is a revisionist western, yet formed in the classical style of the genre. Dominik, a New Zealander, treats the resonant themes with such insight and cinematic flair that it's hard to credit that it is just his second feature film, following the Australian-set Chopper, which also dealt with a real-life criminal in thrall to his notoriety.