Dean Martin in Hollywood’s greatest Valentine’s Day film

What’s the perfect movie for Valentine’s Day? Well, “Rio Bravo,” of course.

According to Quentin Tarantino: “There are certain films in which you spend so much time with the characters that they become your friends.”

But what makes “Rio Bravo” a bonding experience for lovers is its timelessness.

To paraphrase Italo Calvino, “a classic film is a film that never finishes saying what it has to say”.

“Rio Bravo” celebrates the virtues of loyalty, kinship and camaraderie of heart.

And the kingpin of this greatest of all westerns is none other than Dean Martin.

Yes, Dean Martin – the comic crooner turned dramatic actor.

Valentine’s Day, which has its origins in the Roman festival of Lupercalia, recalls the artistic talent of Publius Ovidius Naso.

When it comes to cinema, no artist has embodied Ovid’s concept of Ars est çare artem – “Art is to hide art” – more than the man born Dino Paul Crocetti.

Yet Dino’s sense of sprezzatura, or effortless showmanship, has sometimes baffled critics.

One of those doubting Thomases was Terry Teachout, the late Wall Street Journal drama critic.

Nearly 18 years ago, I took this fearsome Renaissance man to task in the pages of American Cowboy.

While agreeing with Terry that “Rio Bravo” is “the most entertaining film to ever come out of Hollywood,” I said that the center of gravity of the film was not John Wayne but Dean Martin.

Martin’s Oscar-worthy performance as the alcoholic deputy brings a raw sensitivity to this Howard Hawks western. Dino avoids the drunken pagliaccio. Instead, it portrays Dude as a fallen hero seeking redemption – a lawman reclaiming his honor and the kinship of his peers.

Duke Wayne’s John T. Chance gives his deputy a strong shoulder to lean on, but Dude is the agent of his own absolution.

Martin also conveys an uncommon warmth in his whimsical exchanges with Walter Brennan’s older deputy, Stumpy. And Dean’s lilting baritone elevates the cowboy melodies of “Rio Bravo,” “My Rifle, My Pony, and Me” and “Cindy.”

In an essay for the British Film Institute, Matthew Thrift argued that while “The Young Lions” and “Some Came Running” – Martin’s previous films – “proved the adaptability of Dino’s movie star charisma, it was ‘Rio Bravo’ that gave him the against-type role of his career.”

Thrift quotes Ward Bond’s Pat Wheeler, who is surprised by the drunken deputy’s unkempt appearance: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that before.” »

Indeed, “the Dean Martin, beaten and humiliated, who slips into this [film’s] a wordless opening with a thirsty, sweaty, skin-burnt Texas sun, is a far cry from “the coolest man who ever walked the earth,” as more than one YouTube hagiography of Martin would have it.

Richard Corliss, longtime film critic for Time magazine, explained the method used for Dean Martin’s theatrical art: “[Martin] spends most of 1959’s “Rio Bravo,” his best film, staring ruefully at a bottle of whiskey he would like to empty. Defeat shines in his eyes; it’s the rare cinematic portrait of an alcoholic that sidesteps both sensation and feeling.

In an interview with Peter Bogdanovich, director Howard Hawks explained what makes this film such an iconic western: “The whole point of ‘Rio Bravo’ isn’t Wayne; it’s the story of Dean Martin – it all happens because of the drunk.”

And mirabile dictu, American Cowboy editor Jesse Mullins informed me that Teachout had come to appreciate my version of “Rio Bravo.”

So today, after sending a dozen roses to your loved one and sharing a romantic candlelit dinner, screen the cowboy classic that will warm your hearts while lifting your spirits.

Iaconis, president of the Italic Institute of America, is writing a novel about Harry S. Truman.