Ralph Nelson made some important films during the ’60s (Lilies of the Field, Soldier in the Rain and Charly) but my favorite has always been Duel at Diablo (1966).  From the opening image of a knife cutting a map to shreds to reveal the movie behind the map, I have always loved this tough hard-edged western.  James Garner is a scout forced into service by his friend Bill Travers, a cavalry colonel charged with delivering wagons of ammunition to a frontier fort in Apache country.  Several civilians go along for the ride, including horse dealer Sidney Poitier, rifle dealer Dennis Weaver and his half-breed wife, Bibi Andersson, whom Garner rescues in the desert at the beginning of the story.  The Apaches attack the convoy, trying to acquire the ammunition for themselves.

Nelson’s film paints a grim picture of the West, which I feel is probably much closer to the truth than the romanticized stories Hollywood usually makes.  The film’s aggressors are the Indians, but they are seen in a very sympathetic light, and are certainly dignified in their quest for freedom.  The racial strife between white and red men is a story catalyst, yet Poitier’s color never elicits a comment.  The key character is Andersson, who has an Apache child; husband Weaver wants nothing to do with her, but Garner cannot help but be drawn to her suffering.  Duel at Diablo pleads for tolerance and understanding, knowing full well that it’s a hard road to getting there.

The other element that draws me like a moth to flame is the music.  Neal Hefti’s score is an odd one, which many critics have called anachronistic.  I don’t care if it is. The main theme, with its sorrowful counterpoint, is so poignant and effective I cannot help but lose myself within it.

This is one of those films for which my personal feelings overwhelm my critical faculties.  I do believe it’s a good movie, but my emotions tell me every time I see it (more than twenty times now) that it’s a great one.  My rating:  ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰.  (7:3).