I have lost count of how many times I’ve seen the last twenty minutes of The Man Who Would Be King over the last thirty years. I’ve never seen the beginning. This is a macho film, filled with adventure, saber rattling, and the wholesale slaughter of extras. John Huston immediately pulls you in—you feel the heat, the cold, the sweat, and the gunpowder. Decades since this film’s release, its crisp, clean story still holds up. I can now rightfully claim it as one of my favorites and suggest it for fathers who want to share some good clean killing fun with their sons. It would’ve been a ten but I had to knock off one point for blatant colonialist racism.
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