The Missing is an American Revisionist Western thriller film directed by Ron Howard, based on Thomas Eidson’s 1996 novel The Last Ride. The film is set in 1885 New Mexico Territory and is notable for the authentic use of the Apache language by various actors, some of whom spent long hours studying it. The film was produced by Revolution Studios, Imagine Entertainment, distributed by Columbia Pictures.
The film earned mixed reviews from critics, earning it a 58% rating on Rotten Tomatoes with one critic calling it: “an expertly acted and directed Western. But like other Ron Howard features, the movie is hardly subtle.” Philip French of The Observer referred to the film as Howard’s “finest film to date,” and Michael Wilmington of the Chicago Tribune called it the “best and toughest western since Unforgiven.”
“Ron has always wanted to make a movie he could shoot quickly, in practical locations,” says Grazer. “And he has always wanted to do a western. The Missing allowed him to accomplish both.”
For the visual look of The Missing, Howard was searching for a director of photography who could bring both scope and intimacy to the story. Salvatore Totino had previously shot only contemporary films such as Changing Lanes and Any Given Sunday. “And that was exactly what I wanted,” says Howard, “someone whose work was contemporary and psychologically driven. The scariest, most suspenseful films are the ones that put the audience in the mindset of the characters. That’s what I wanted here. Salvatore did it brilliantly in his other films, and he came up with some off-beat, arresting images that made the audience feel they were right there with the characters.”
Totino brought an energy to his work that was critical to Howard’s vision, according to Grazer. “He is totally in love with the experience of shooting movies and takes you as close to the experience as is humanly possible.”
Totino also strove to re-imagine the genre through the use of innovative camera angles. “I wanted to approach the western in a more unconventional and suspenseful way because it’s also a thriller,” Totino says. “Camera movement and different angles draw the audience into the film. That’s why I stayed away from standard (film) coverage and didn’t rely on over-the-shoulder shots or traditional masters. The idea was that the style should underscore the emotions and the tension.”
Totino’s use of the Steadicam and, particularly, the hand-held camera also freed him to capture nuances in the actors’ performances that would heighten the audience’s empathy and give the action immediacy. “The hand-held camera is very easy to adjust and reframe, so it allows you to be more spontaneous, like a still photographer,” Totino continues. “And Ron gave me incredible latitude. We’d plan a shot and, a couple of takes in, I’d have an idea and start to reframe and he’d let the scene keep playing. It was a fantastically creative atmosphere.”
That kind of give and take in the creative process is essential to Howard’s brand of filmmaking, he says. “Giving people the freedom to explore helps take the film further creatively. That’s the alchemy of filmmaking,” Howard explains.
The rugged New Mexico locations for the film required ingenuity on the part of Totino and his crew. One area was so muddy and remote it wouldn’t support a crane. Other locales were so rocky and uneven that any attempt to lay down camera (dolly) tracks was impossible. As much as it is a character-driven suspense drama, The Missing is also the story of an arduous journey through New Mexico. “This story is a true expedition that starts out in the high country and ends up at the Mexican border in the high desert,” says Howard. “Like the characters, we went from snow to heat waves. That made the story palpable for audiences in grasping the characters’ transitory experience.”
Mother Nature also contributed to the film’s verisimilitude. Weather extremes are part of New Mexico’s tumultuous geological history, which shaped the state’s mammoth sandstone bluffs, rocky hillsides strewn with iron-rich boulders, sandy arroyos and a collapsed volcanic crater that dips into the Jemez Mountains. Early spring is mercurial, and during the two weeks of filming in the Valles Caldera, ice storms and snowstorms gave way to freakishly warm temperatures, resulting in layers of oozing mud. The weather could change from snow to clouds to hail to sun, sometimes in the span of an afternoon. While filming at the Zia Pueblo, an eerie, desiccated mesa of white gypsum, 65 mph winds suddenly kicked up, blinding and choking the cast and crew.
“It was very windy, and we inadvertently consumed sand and dust on many occasions,” recalls Blanchett. “But the landscapes were extraordinary. Maybe it’s because of growing up in the heat of Australia, I love cold weather, so I was happy to start off the movie in snow. And in general, I think it really helped define the nature of the story to start out in snow and end up in sweltering heat, even if it was often uncomfortable,” she notes.
The Hourglass Gap action sequence tested Totino’s ingenuity and, allowed him to pay homage to one of his favorite cinematographers. “Hourglass Gap was tricky but exciting, and the flaming arrows were especially fun,” he relates. “For the tighter shots, we used these long duration flash bulbs. We threw them over the actors’ heads to mimic the fire. It reminded me of that scene in Apocalypse Now, when the young soldiers are tripping on acid and they come across that night firework scene. The only thing that (director of photography) Vittorio Storaro did was go close in on the actors and pan lights on and off of them in the background to approximate fireworks. It looked fantastic.”
Totino shot the film in Super 35 and filled his wide-screen frame with subtle color that he continued tweaking in post-production. He opted for a different color filter for each location. The various hues were used to underscore the emotion of the particular sequence. For instance, in the white gypsum landscape of the Zia Pueblo, with its scenes of tension and violence, he used a blue filter. The bloody, fast-paced shoot-out and rescue at Ghost Ranch were overlaid with a coral hue.
Tommy Lee Jones’ role as Jones is a multifaceted, unapologetic character, a stubborn and deeply conflicted man, trying in his own way to come to terms with his past and reconcile with his family.
“This role is unlike anything else Tommy Lee has ever done,” Howard explains. “It’s a performance of incredible bravery, creativity and imagination. He has created a character of incredible dimension in Jones, a man who straddles two worlds, but is never completely accepted by either of them.”
It is the character’s years of experience with the Apache culture that enable him to track down his kidnapped granddaughter and, throughout, the actor’s commitment to authenticity elevated the performance, according to Howard. “Tommy Lee already had a vast knowledge of the old West and after studying for months with real Apache elders, for whom he showed the highest respect, he became fascinated with every detail of the culture,” says Howard.
“He was a champion of the Apache language, culture and psychology, adding priceless insights and humor to his portrayal, which brought greater truth to the film overall. It was the same kind of passion and knowledge I’d sensed when discussing the space program with Tom Hanks during Apollo 13. Tommy Lee’s input was incredibly valuable, like having another technical advisor on the film.”
Howard also found Jones to be a fearless actor who made unexpected but appropriate choices. “In refining and developing the character, Tommy Lee found so many interesting ways to avoid cliches. He showed a lot of creative ingenuity without sacrificing the authenticity and the integrity of the story.”
What is most remarkable about the performance, says Grazer, is the ways in which Jones uses silence. “Tommy Lee has a quiet power that, when utilized, is palpable. He’s among a small group of actors who not only have star power, but a raw energy that is fraught with danger.”
In constructing a framework for the character, Jones created a man who had been to art school in New York and left his family to paint the people, animals and plains of Western North America. Jones’ character returns to his family “just as one of his granddaughters has been kidnapped,” says Jones. “The kidnappers want to take her to Mexico and sell her, a common practice in those days.”
Even Jones’ initial return to his family is more psychologically layered than one would expect. “Jones has a great deal of self-interest in coming back,” the Oscar-winning actor says. “He is happy that he moved from the European world to living in the indigenous American world. However, he’s had the misfortune to have been bitten by a rattlesnake, and within his belief system, there are serious implications. Reuniting with his family is one of many things he must do to save the life of his soul. So when he comes to take care of his family he’s motivated by survival. But anyone who works hard to take care of their family is, whether they know it or not, motivated by survival.
In the arc of the story, both Jones and Maggie eventually undergo self-enlightenment, says Howard. “They gradually realize that you can’t erase the past, but it doesn’t have to cripple you either. Rather than ignoring one another’s defects, they learn to accept them. Maggie comes to appreciate her father for his attributes and puts the past behind her.”
Equally important to fully exploiting both the dramatic action and impact of The Missing was the presence of Cate Blanchett as Maggie Gilkeson, according to Grazer. “Cate was ideal for this role, because she is sexy, powerful and interesting as an actress. She has an inner strength that makes you feel she could stand up to the bad guys. Very few actresses have that command and level of power.”
As with Jones’ character, Maggie might seem easy to pigeonhole at first glance. “She seems to be a no-nonsense, devout pioneer woman,” says Blanchett. “As the story progresses however, it is clear that, in so many ways, she’s as contrary as her father. Like Jones, Maggie is on an emotional, physical and spiritual passage that reveals every aspect of her character – not just her grit and courage, but also her more maternal side as well as her fragility, her fears, her fallibility and often judgmental nature.”
“The choice of Blanchett was key to creating such a strong, multi-dimensional character,” says Howard. “Her level of preparation, her innate honesty, both as a person and as an actor, really served the material. Coaches like to talk about star athletes who support the team in intangible ways. That was true of Cate. She has great ideas, asks smart questions and accesses her own humanity in ways that are startling to watch and really exciting to direct. It was fascinating to see her develop this role and invest it with so much power. She took it to another level. At the same time as she embodied the stoic, strong women who existed during that era, she was a very contemporary kind of character.”
Blanchett has mutual respect and admiration for Howard. “Ron is astonishing, especially since this was a very hard shoot with difficult terrain and intense emotional scenes,” she says. “He and the cinematographer, Salvatore Totino, did extraordinary things. Ron’s work is always rich with idiosyncrasy, scope and drama. All that is definitely in The Missing.”
There is a complex psychology in the family dynamic between children and parents in the film. “As much as it is set in the Southwest, there is at the heart of it, a story of an estrangement and the journey toward reconciliation and redemption,” she continues. “Maggie sees a lot of herself in her girls, but her relationship with Lilly is troubled. Lilly is older, and Maggie is trying to prevent her daughter from experiencing the same adolescent disasters she herself experienced. And that’s just impossible. She and Lilly are in this constant tussle, so when she’s kidnapped, Maggie is wracked with guilt. She believes in some strange way that it’s her fault that Lilly has gone missing.”
Capturing all the clashing emotions Maggie experiences on her journey “is all about nuance,” says Blanchett. “On both the physical and emotional level, it all comes back to Maggie. As arduous and painful as this journey is, it is also a kind of healing one for Maggie and her family. She goes through so much loss and struggle and yet she and her daughters emerge stronger and are really able to move forward in a powerful, positive way.”
In researching her role, Blanchett read first-hand accounts by pioneer women. “The frontier experience was a harsh journey into the wilderness, and there is a wisdom that comes from that,” says Blanchett. “In reading their diaries, I was fascinated by their resilience and its impact on their femininity. Maggie is someone who has submerged some of her more ‘feminine’ feelings because of her traumatic childhood and the harshness of daily life. There is a damaged quality to her. At the same time, because of her circumstances, she is incredibly physical, and better able to withstand physical difficulties than the emotional ones.”
Maggie’s ranch was constructed in the basin of collapsed volcanic craters known as Valles Caldera in the high country north of Santa Fe, near the national park at Los Alamos. Because of its protected status, the Park Service allowed The Missing access provided there was no disruption to the environment. Vehicles and equipment remained on the road above the location and, on occasion, horses were used to help transport film boxes and camera equipment from one set-up to the next.
While the shell of Maggie’s cabin already existed, visual consultant Merideth Boswell rebuilt the interior and constructed a large porch to go around it. She also had to construct an entire working ranch, complete with corrals, outhouse, animal pens, blacksmithing area, barn and ‘sick’ house, where Maggie performed her healing. The ranch sequence covered a three-day winter period in the film, but was actually shot over 13 days, so Boswell and her crew were constantly melting snow or making snow so that all the shots would match.
All construction had to meet the stringent rules of the Park Service. The modest homestead gave the cast and crew a real feel for what it must have been like to live in such a harsh, isolated environment. Howard elected to film both the exterior and interior scenes at the location. If the scene took place at night in the bitter cold, everyone felt it.
According to Boswell, by 1885 “there was quite a bit of photography, so we had a good amount of available research material.” While she initially based her sets on these research photos, they were modified to conform to the characters. “Much of it was a matter of economics. Ron and I talked about Maggie’s economic situation; we didn’t want it to appear that she was well-to-do. We made the sick house look like it might have been the original homestead with a sod roof. Then she moved into the cabin with a wood shingled roof. In terms of color, I worried about the monotony of everything being weathered, but paint would’ve just leapt out. Plus, paint was expensive. People of limited means put their money into their barns instead, because it represented their livelihood.”
Fittingly, the production moved to Boswell’s other major set during the final filming, a stage where she replicated the Santa Clara Pueblo, a starkly beautiful collection of ancient adobe brick structures. Some exteriors had been shot at the real Santa Clara Pueblo, but because it is a sacred site, Boswell couldn’t tinker with it and had to construct a more film-friendly version for the interior sequences, one that had removable walls and access for lights and gear.
Most of the movie, however, takes place outdoors. When the company moved to Ghost Ranch, a breathtaking expanse of yellow and burnt-orange mesas and craggy hillsides that inspired many of Georgia O’Keefe’s paintings, Boswell constructed her own rocky facade. She created the cave in which Pesh-Chidin hides the captive girls and meshed it seamlessly with the existing natural rock formations. Howard staged a large-scale shoot-out at the same location, which required strategically placed boulders to accommodate the story and the camera equipment. Boswell brought in some fake boulders, which were light enough to move around but sometimes had to be tethered when the New Mexican winds kicked up.
Boswell’s most daunting assignment was the Hourglass Gap, where the film’s action finale takes place. The script describes Hourglass Gap as a massive exterior wall of stone with palisades that shoot up some 500 feet. In the shadows of the rock face is a narrow gap so tight that even a rider-less horse could barely make it through. The actual location, a 20,000-acre ranch known as Cerro Pelon, had a high ledge overlooking a steep, nearly vertical hillside that gave way to a rambling valley of scrub and juniper trees. Boswell’s team built up the hillside and used the man-made boulders. “We built up the sides of the canyon to reflect what Ron wanted, in terms of the action – gunfire and flaming arrows in addition to cameras – so we had to anchor the rocks in concrete and steel. Because it was up a ravine wall, we had to erect this elaborate scaffolding system to build everything. We managed to complete it all in about six weeks,” Boswell says.
Costume designer Julie Weiss says, “The Missing may be set in a specific year, but its issues are timeless. My job was to treat the characters as individuals, a constant, whether the film is set in 1885 or 2085. The costumes are meant to show how the characters would dress themselves drawn from their own scrapbooks, with an occasional fabrication.”
“When a costume designer is lucky enough to have characters like Jones and Maggie played by the likes of Tommy Lee and Cate,” she continues, “the job takes on its own dance as the actors and the characters combine. Maggie’s costumes clothe a woman who is a healer, a mother raising two daughters and someone who works the land. In the beginning, you see her at home cutting wood. You sense her physicality, her rhythm with the elements. It’s hard work but it is also familiar work. Despite her hardships, she walks with such purpose that the audience follows her. The costume designer only need heighten the moment and be careful not to camouflage it.”
Jones’ wardrobe reflected his picaresque travels and his idiosyncratic point of view, says Weiss. While some of his accessories were scripted, particularly the Native American amulets he wears, his straightforward combination of loose-fitting faded calico-print shirts, wool vests coupled with rough cloth pants and moccasins are precisely what a man straddling two cultures might wear. “There was such a richness to the West then, a place that was wild, an odd definition in what now, in retrospect, seems to be a comparatively civilized world. When you see Tommy Lee ride so freely, you understand the connection between men and endless miles of land. You feel the loss and want it back,” she says.
Besides researching photos from the era, Weiss drew inspiration from the colors of the Southwest. The sage green in Maggie’s coat, the sumac reds in Jones’ shirt, the wheat browns in Dot’s dress – all echo the topography. The dyes used are often derived from plants and minerals within arm’s reach – fabrics from the town store, hand-me-downs from families and friends and items acquired through trading, according to Weiss.
In terms of the Native American characters, it is much more time-specific, Weiss says, “Because of when the film takes place, we were able to show what was happening to the Apache nation at that time, how sad it was that they were being forcibly ‘westernized.’ Any time a costume designer is asked to help represent a group where there has been an attempt to dispense with their identity, it is an honor as well as a responsibility. The Apaches were on a part of their journey where their clothing was becoming ‘westernized’ without choice. Through dress, their culture and identity was being stripped away. Although Kayitah and Honesco’s clothes remain closer to their tribal base, availability of materials had become easier. The Apache scouts would often wear pieces of the Calvary uniform. But when the military no longer wanted any part of them, the visual history gets mixed up and you can see it in their clothing, which reflects where they have been rather than who they are.”
Pesh-Chidin, however, knows exactly who he is, and everything about his clothing conveys a sense of demonic power and foreboding, according to Weiss. “Pesh is an outsider. If he is foreboding, it’s because those who know that they have the power to terrify can emit an aura of the abuse of power, an emotional clearing around them. The power of Pesh is toxic. Whatever gifts he had as a healer became tainted. He chose a path of evil pride. He wears his trophies (the tintypes), which are a roster of his victims. Anyone who has to wear his past to shield a misuse of power is someone who should not only shed his costume, but his soul.”
“Julie is a real artist, with broad interests and the knowledge and background to bring all that to her work,” says Howard. “She helped build the characters and sends subtle thematic messages through her work.”
Weiss’ costumes often have a metaphorical aspect. There are the unsettling images of the captive girls being readied for “market” in garish, clown-like make-up and tarted up corsets that make them look like distorted Degas ballerinas. “They become like fun house mirror portraits of beauty, a nightmare drawn by a violent hand,” says Weiss.
“Filming in Santa Fe was like filming in a 24-hour archive. The community helped us with research,” she continues. “There were family albums, photo collections, books of memories, journals of travels describing personal views. Aside from a costume designer’s responsibility to know what is appropriate to a specific time, one also has to combine other elements regarding character. As individuals we dress ourselves and adorn ourselves until the specific personality emerges. And that was my job as costume designer – to respect the ride.”
One of Howard’s boldest gambles in The Missing was the use of Apache dialogue (with subtitles) against a backdrop of palpable action. The reason it worked so well and didn’t interfere with the momentum, says Grazer, “is because we treated it in a very vital way. The characters who spoke Apache, did so in a modern way. There was humor. There was an edge to it. It was how real people would talk, not like characters in a history book.”
In preparation for the film, Jones, Tavare, Baker and other Apache characters had to learn how to speak Chiricahua, a dialect of the Apache language. The Missing contains several scenes with interchanges in this difficult and demanding Apache tongue. “There are five or six different groups of Apaches, each of whom speak a slightly different language,” explains Jones. “We had to study the Chiricahua dialect carefully and thoroughly.”
The actors were taught by teachers who also served as consultants on the film — Elbys Hugar and Berle Kanseah, Chiricahua elders with an impressive Apache pedigree, as well as Scott Rushforth, a college professor with a specialty in Native American languages. “Apache is one of the most difficult of all the native languages to perfect,” explains Tavare. “It has glottal stops, sibilent Ls, and there are some words that, even if you pronounce them correctly, if you punctuate them in the wrong place, mean something completely different.”
“In my mind, there was never any question that the actors playing Native Americans would have to speak Apache,” Howard explains. “We were extremely fortunate that Elbys, Berle and Scott agreed to help us. Elbys in particular, comes from a line of great Apache leaders. Her grandfather is Cochise and her great-grandfather is Naiche. Cochise is well known as a formidable and infamous Chiricahua warrior. Naiche was the chief of the Chiricahua band that evaded the military for many years, along with Geronimo, who is better known. But in truth, Geronimo was just the medicine man.”
The actors went beyond the rudiments of Chiricahua to learn many of its subtleties. “One of the great joys for me was how intriguing and entertaining the culture is and how that comes across in the language,” says Howard. “Much of the humor in the film comes in the interactions between Jones and Kayitah (Jay Tavare) and the Apaches talking about the white folks. They are famous for their dry sense of humor. It’s quite an amazing culture.” In the script, Chiricahua Apaches have given the wandering Jones an affectionate and humorous name. It emerged from a conversation producer Ostroff had with Rushforth. “Dan asked me what the Chiricahua might call someone like Jones, who can’t settle down, abandons his family, and is alone,” says Rushforth. “The Chiricahua hold family in extremely high regard, so I jokingly told Dan that they’d call Jones ‘shit out of luck.’ Dan passed my comment along to Ron Howard, who thought it was funny, and the name stuck.”
The actors studied with their teachers for about seven weeks prior to filming and continued throughout the production. For Hugar, who has compiled two Chiricahua dictionaries with Rushforth, it was a chance to demonstrate the beauty and intricacy of the language, which is in danger of disappearing. “It was an opportunity to show young people that they can learn the language, too, which is important, because it’s dying out,” says Hugar. “When I was working as a curator at a museum, I had a class of about 50 kids and asked how many understood their language and could speak any Apache. Just two of them raised their hands.”
The actors appreciated learning not only the language, but also the nuances of the culture. “It was wonderful to work with the Apache elders,” Tavare says. “Their stories were fascinating and gave me a stronger sense of my character.”
Many of the cast members also had to master loading and firing 19th century guns and rifles, handling a bow and a quiver full of arrows, as well as horseback riding. “We had at least a month and a half to rehearse with (stunt coordinator) Walter Scott,” Tavare says. “We had to look as if we’d been riding all of our lives and were comfortable with the bow and arrow. It’s one thing to ride and one thing to shoot, but we had to do both.” In one shoot out, Tavare continues, he had to ride on his horse and shoot a 15-pound Henry rifle or bow and arrow.
Directed by: Ron Howard
Starring: Tommy Lee Jones, Cate Blanchett, Evan Rachel Wood, Jenna Boyd, Aaron Eckhart, Val Kilmer, Sergio Caldero, Eric Schweig, Steve Reevis, Jay Tavare
Screenplay by: Ken Kaufman
Cinematography by: Salvatore Totino
Film Editing by: Daniel P. Hanley, Mike Hill, Ron Vignone
Costume Design by: Julie Weiss
Set Decoration by: Wendy Ozols-Barnes
Music by: James Horner
MPAA Rating: R for violence.
Studio: Columbia Pictures
Release Date: November 26, 2003
