My gosh, this is one gorgeous picture.
"The Iron Orchard" is as beautiful a film as I've seen in awhile. Set in the wildcatting days of the Texas oil boom of the 1930s through '50s, it's a fictional story that hews true to life about a country of outsized egos and ambitions. It's based on the 1966 novel by Tom Pendleton, which was a pseudonym of Edmund Van Zandt Jr., himself the son of a prominent oil family who lived the life and then wrote about it in secret.
Directed by Ty Roberts from a script by Gerry De Leon, "The Iron Orchard" is beautifully shot by cinematographer Mathieu Plainfossé, a painterly film of sunlight and sweat that recalls Terrence Malick's "Days of Heaven." The musical score by Duncan Thum carries us along on a stream of strings and urgent chords. The gorgeous vintage cars and clothes (courtesy production designer Mars Feehery), combined with a comely cast, make this movie a true visual splendor.
Alas, at times the dialogue and storytelling don't measure up to the pretty pictures. A few scenes fall flat under the weight of stilted performances or poor pacing. The script hurries when it ought to tarry, and the other way around.
A B-picture with A-list production values, "The Iron Orchard" didn't make much of a splash at the box office earlier this year, but it's certainly worth a look on streaming or video.
Lane Garrison plays Jim McNeely, a self-described poor kid from nowhere. He fell in love with a girl from a rich family, Mazie (Hassie Harrison), but was rejected because his grocery store checker salary did not measure up. So he heads out to the Texas Permian Basin to strike it rich in the oil business.
Of course, he has to start at the bottom working for the massive, indifferent Bison Oil Company. Assigned to a work gang digging and toiling in the merciless sun, he is pushed around and picked upon by the sunfreckled veterans, and eventually learns to stand up for himself. Gregory Kelly pays Cap Bruner -- love that name -- the work gang leader who seems to be half bear, half bull. And has the temperament to match.
Jim also finds an unexpected friendship in Dent Paxton (Austin Nichols), the college-educated foreman. At first Dent advises Jim to pack it in, but sees a stubborn streak in the man that he comes to admire. Eventually the power dynamic of their relationship will shift, leading to conflict.
He catches the eye of an engineer's wife, Lee (Ali Cobrin), and a dance of push-and-pull romance begins. Just as things seem to be falling apart, he scrabbles up enough money to start his own oil company.
The film races too quickly through the rise-to-power section, as Jim seems to go from penny-ante sweathog to Stetson-wearing businessman in just a couple of blinks. Soon he's buying a mansion in Fort Worth and looking to get payback on all the bullies and tilted-nose types who gave him a hard time as a young'un.
Even as the movie stumbles through some of these scenes, the great look of the film and the authenticity of the Texas tale buoy it up to snuff. Garrison is an intriguing performer, sunburnt and seething -- his Jim McNeely is a man with a chip on his shoulder and a fiery passion in his gut. We see him transform from scrappy underdog to the type of boss he once would've rebelled against.
There's a (mostly) nice supporting cast. Donny Boaz is a Johnny-come-lately investor who tangles the interpersonal knots; Allan McLeod plays a meek geologist with whom Jim forms an early alliance; and Lew Temple is terrific as Ort Cooley (another great moniker), an older oil worker who works hard during the day and drinks harder at night.
Like its protagonist, "The Iron Orchard" harbors plenty of faults. But it's a feast for the senses and a quintessentially American tale.