“3:10 to Yuma” hit theaters last weekend, a full-frontal assault of gritty old Western bravado. I vastly enjoyed it, because I?m a big fan of atmospherics and muscular cinematography, and this film offered plenty of both. It was two hours of intensity, a drawn-out display of excessive masculinity, and it does justice to the Western genre.

Logan Lerman and Christian Bale as William and Dan Evans

Yes, masculinity: the gravitational center of the themes in Yuma. There’s hardly a feminine element in the film, and the views and versions of masculinity swirl around in a weird emotional stew. From the violent insecurity of Ben Foster’s Charlie Prince to the idealistic sidekickery of Doc Potter (Alan Tudyk), there’s hardly a side of manhood, both traditional and non-traditional, that isn?t on display.

In some respects, Yuma shows a progressive, complex side of the masculine personality. The patriarchies and personal moralities end up breaking down, upsetting a cluster of well-rendered characterizations the film had been establishing, so that at times, the audience gets a glimpse of the fragile heart of cowboy manhood. In this sense, it reminded me of “Falling Down,” another complex look at moral neuroses (and another gritty action movie), and this association compliments both films.

Still, there?s something scary lingering in the central theme of Yuma: the relationship between violence and fatherhood. As the character of Dan Evans (Christian Bale) develops, the critical viewer may realize that his whole claim to fatherhood rests on his wartime achievements, or the lack thereof. His fatherhood is competitive, and his son calls on him to prove himself by being an alpha male. The call to courage, sounded by William Evans, masks a desire to confront every problem as a war.

The themes of victory and defeat, binding father and son to a shared struggle, could have been timely, had they been addressed more critically. After all, the preeminent American prodigal son is fighting to complete the war that his father started. Unfortunately, the Iraqi outlaw isn?t quite ready to get on the train, or even to have a polite conversation with the United States. Also unfortunate: that “3:10 to Yuma” didn?t really offer much to fathers who don?t want to prove themselves in gunfights.

This shortcoming is excusable, since “3:10 to Yuma” is tied down from two directions: first, by its reliance upon the original material; second, by the Western mentality inherent to its genre. It works beautifully on the screen. I just wish we weren?t reenacting it in the White House and on the prairies of Iraq.