Somewhere between The Alamo of 1960, directed by and starring John Wayne, and The Alamo of 2004, directed by John Lee Hancock, is a definitive Alamo movie yet to be made. Wayne's version, which has aged badly, made the mistake of shining too much light on John Wayne himself -- the man and his ideals. He actually upstaged his own character, Davy Crockett, a legend he tried to make even more legendary by essentially playing himself. Crockett and other heroes of the Alamo were placed on high pedestals, but unfortunately the movie resorted too often to speechifying and playing out unrealistic events that were supposed to highlight the men's resourcefulness. 

By contrast, the tone of Hancock's The Alamo is completely opposite. Here, the main players in this famous story -- Davy Crockett (Billy Bob Thornton), Sam Houston (Dennis Quaid), Jim Bowie (Jason Patric), and Col. William Travis (Patrick Wilson) -- are seen as flawed men, somewhat shortsighted, their makeshift allegiance a product of the circumstances. Talks about fighting for what's right are limited, and inspiration is in short supply. When the siege begins, the movie shows the increasing desperation of the situation, with the men's resolve to fight strengthening almost directly as a response to their acceptance of their doomed fate.

Unfortunately, this film fares little better than Wayne's version as an entertaining movie, largely because it shares the same general weakness -- it goes too far in what it's trying to do. Wayne's movie is practically a sermon on how a man can do right, conspicuously endeavoring to immortalize its heroes; Hancock's movie is a de-mythifier, a story about tough but hardly noble men who may have defended the Alamo less from ideals and more from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. An intriguing angle to be sure, but here it feels mean-spirited, almost like telling a youngster Santa Claus isn't real.

The film's worst myth bashing involves an inexplicable hatchet job on Davy Crockett. Although the legend of Crockett may be exaggerated, why go out of your way to spit on a well-renowned historical figure? What did Crockett do to incur the screenwriters' wrath? He's shown here as a man who is a victim of the stories others tell about him -- when faced with questions about those tall tales (leaping rivers, riding lightning, etc.), he reacts with a sheepishness that makes you wonder how any of those stories ever got started. Crockett arrives at the Alamo not expecting conflict and clearly flinching at the thought of battle. When the opposing Mexican army mentions his name in fear, General Santa Anna (Emilio Echevarría) responds with laughter, and, because of the way Crockett appears in this film, the audience is inclined to laugh with him. About the only things Davy is good at are fiddle-playing and smiling disarmingly.

If this characterization had been done to give us some kind of insight into the man and his decision to stay and fight, then it might have worked; instead, we're given the impression that Crockett remains only because it might make him look too shameful if he didn't. One scene is very telling of the debunker's agenda this movie carries: one night, at a meal during the siege, a young man asks Crockett about his participation in previous wars. In front of the assembled men, Davy relates how he's fought in only one battle and how it resulted in burning Indian women and children, whose screams carried on into the night. After hearing this, the men all seem rather dejected. Now, in a situation like this, wouldn't anyone in his right mind know better than to tell a story that will decrease morale? Instead of giving viewers something that makes sense in a story about men fighting impossible odds, the movie goes out of its way to present this instance of bringing Crockett down to earth -- and that's too much of the wrong idea, in my opinion.  

What happened at the Alamo is, after all, a story of legend, undeserving of a "reality" treatment that makes it taste like bitter historical medicine. People need legends; they need myths, and the Alamo provides a fascinating one. A lot of folks today don't seem to know much about it anymore, and its symbolism -- its tale of a doomed garrison fighting for an ideal, for independence, at the cost of their lives -- makes it a great subject for a current movie. It's sad to see the opportunity squandered in this fashion. Even the John Wayne version had characters who made you feel bad when they died; in the new movie, so little time is spent getting to know the men in general that once they start dying anonymously, we barely care. By the time the movie tries to give us noble reasons for the men's decision to fight, it's too late -- its attempts at rousing the audience ring false, and its coda featuring Houston getting his revenge on Santa Anna feels forced.

In this age of overloaded information, legends and myths are precious things. Even if a "realistic" approach had to be taken, better to show the roots of such legends, rather than spend so much time making them ordinary. I'm still waiting for a movie about the Alamo that's worth remembering.

(Released by Touchstone Pictures and rated "PG-13" for sustained intense battle sequences.)

Review also posted on www.windowtothemovies.com.