Doc Holliday: In vino veritas. (In wine there is truth.)
Johnny Ringo: Age quod agis. (Do what you do.)
Doc Holliday: Credat Judaeus Apella, non ego. (Let Apella the Jew believe, not I.) Romans used the phrase to show contempt for Judaism’s belief that divine power was involved in everyday life.
Johnny Ringo: Iuventus stultorum magister. (Youth is the teacher of fools.)a
Doc Holliday: In pace requiescat. (May he rest in peace.)
Yes, it is just a Cowboy film. Yes, damn, this one grabbed me a long long ago. In a world of much sophistication, surplus views projected to be sound, garrulous ideologies, and then, real, real gravitas. This movie, Tombstone. It just got to me. Humane, sad, tragic, real, real to the eventual digging of all final graves.
This is what conductors do. They apply their soul, their open trembling hands, the longing of their fingers, their intense intrusion in the going of the music to get to, to rescue the essence of the music in its essential longing. And in this case, the movie.
George P. Cosmatos and Kevin Jarre did something special here.
We, we humans, we take on the days and months of life. Then the decades. And in every singular context, it is special, precious. And to tender to bear.
So Johnny Ringo meets Doc Holliday. Johnny, full of anger, proudness, ‘damn, I have shot a lot’ but lost, already butchered by life, the preciousness of a kind soul already finally lost, and discarded.
And on the other side of the table, a similar man. Sad, tragic gradually creeping over his body and soul, night by night.
Bruised. And both knows it. The long lost fight to stand tall. And not succeeding. To be forever the middling man in the ways of a weakening world.
And at a point, one cracks. Perhaps all, crack. But in different ways.
Johnny Ringo, Doc Holiday, you were lucky. I could have walked into that crowded room and stared you bloody both down. And I would have added this one too – ‘Amare simul et sapere ipsi Iovi non datur’.
Sorry guys, then I would have outgunned you. Watching sadly how Johnny Ringo and Doc Holiday just would sank to final grounds.
But, I would have be crying. For theirs souls that just could not stood up to the hellish emptiness of streets. And the shores of their lost souls.
They actually verbalized, asking, for me to obliviate the continuation of pain. Yes, I could have stilled their pains. But mine. I am awaiting another Johnny Ringo and Doc Holiday. To see, to assess, to gun down. Because, we just cannot walk tall. Not more than half an hour. But, the rhetoric is just not stilled so easily.
They are out there on the streets tonight.
