Deadwood

After 13 years in development hell, the conclusion to HBO's critically acclaimed Western series has finally arrived with "Deadwood: The Movie." For ardent viewers of the original series, this 110-minute return to the well will feel like much more than just hanging with old friends.

Writer David Milch was adept (maybe even the best) at fully visualizing a universe that felt like a novel – one in which, despite the bloodletting and action, the real struggle inherited by each character was about staying true to one's self when faced by the crushing tide of modernity. And even though the film may be a tad inaccessible to those who didn't watch the show, Milch knows how to pack every line of dialogue with multitudes of meaning that speak to deeper emotional truths. Truths are laid bare not just by dialogue, but also by something as simple as a hand movement or labored exhale.

Picking up ten years after the series abruptly ended, "Deadwood: The Movie" opens on a big landscape shot of the town at the center of it all. As Calamity Jane (Robin Weigert) stumbles into the shot to opine about her lost lover Joanie Stubbs (Kim Dickens), that familiar opening theme swells. Then, the story descends into the 1889 celebration of South Dakota's statehood, with Senator George Hearst (Gerald McRaney) presiding as the master of ceremonies. The story doesn't pick up on direct conflict until about an hour in, as it revels in opening old wounds to see if the same souls occupy the tired and weary bodies of Deadwood.

To save you from spoilers, let's just say that Hearst has his eyes set on using his considerable political power to bend the denizens of Deadwood to his will. Al Swearengen (Ian McShane), Sherriff Seth Bullock (Timothy Olyphant), and a slew of other familiar characters won't let that go down on their watch. As much as the story becomes preoccupied with arriving at a destination that feels final, Milch, in classic fashion, sets his sights on staying true to the cast of characters he so painstakingly detailed. The scriptwriter recently announced that he is suffering from Alzheimer's, which makes the proceedings even more heartbreaking. That loss of self he was so incredible at portraying through his dialogue and direction ends up taking on another life in "Deadwood: The Movie."

If there was any definite in the series and in the movie alike, it's that mortality comes for us all. No matter what we do to try to escape, it will prove futile. Such is the plight that so many of the performers in "Deadwood" are used to shouldering, but never able to shake. Reports that Milch interfered less during the production of the film prove to be one of the project's greatest strengths. Every cast member has been itching to get back into their boots for one more foray into the moral and physical muddiness that Milch's work calls for. Here, they get that and much more.

In one particular scene, Calamity Jane says she felt the ghost of her old friend Wild Bill inhabit her body after an act of swift vengeance. Joanie Stubbs reassures her that the action was carried out by her own will, that nobody made that decision for her. What may seem like boilerplate reasoning for character motivations in other narratives feels like an entire chapter about growth and identity.

That scene mentioned above only lasts seconds, but like pretty much every sequence in the film it begs and rewards further introspection – again, something Milch was able to do expertly. Director Daniel Minahan rightfully lets the cast and dialogue carry everything, even down to specific shot choices. The closing shots in a multitude of sequences show normal human action, but they feel like they're being played in slow motion. That's the kind of Americana that Milch excelled at, and it's a pleasure to see it on the screen in all its glory. Open the damn canned peaches, because "Deadwood: The Movie" is the conclusion we almost certainly didn't deserve.