Popular culture bears its humiliations for those with long memories. It’s bad enough that it’s become necessary to stipulate “Hank Williams Sr.” when mentioning the king of country music, and “Hitchcock’s Psycho” when citing the mother of all slasher movies. Now, thanks to James Mangold’s recent remake, Delmer Daves’s marvelous 1957 protospaghetti Western, “3:10 to Yuma,” which begins a weeklong run at Anthology Film Archives today, requires a similar footnote.

Daves’s “3:10 to Yuma” is, in fact, partially responsible for the creation of a better and better-known picture. It was the original “Yuma,” along with Fred Zinnemann’s “High Noon,” that inspired Howard Hawks to create his beloved 1959 buddies-under-siege movie “Rio Bravo,” which celebrated the community and friendship that Hawks found lacking in Zinnemann and Daves’s pictures.

Male bonding being Hawks’s dramatic stock-in-trade, it’s surprising that the director didn’t take to the subtle courtship that ensues in “3:10” between broke rancher Dan Evans (Van Heflin) and quiet, ruthless outlaw Ben Wade (Glenn Ford), as the former attempts to compel the latter to a rendezvous with the titular train and a waiting jail cell.

Even more puzzling after seeing Anthology’s luminous new black-and-white print of Daves’s film is what purpose Mr. Mangold sought to achieve by reimagining the original’s economical assemblage of parched landscapes and anxious faces as a wide-screen action movie nearly 30 minutes longer than the film upon which it is based.

Mr. Mangold’s “3:10 to Yuma” noisily ladles out a plate of such venerable cowboy-movie clichés as night riders burning a barn and the capture of an armored stage coach within his film’s first 15 minutes. The closest to pyrotechnics Daves’s “3:10 to Yuma” ever gets is a few quick-draw deaths, a brief grapple in a hotel room, an innocent man hanged in shadow, and a rainstorm.

Daves’s film is based on a story by Elmore Leonard and takes place in the same mythic western Arizona setting that Mr. Leonard provided for Budd Boetticher’s similarly elegant and neurotically tinged 1957 oater “The Tall T.”

Despite the cattle herds and horse corrals, it would seem that the only real cash crops coming out of Bisbee and Contention (the towns whose names Mr. Leonard supposedly selected at random) are determination and regret. Blessed with exceptional performances by Heflin and Ford, Daves’s “3:10 to Yuma” plumbs the depths of self-doubt and moral ambiguity behind individual acts of heroism and communal acts of cowardice with an economy, wit, and visual intelligence that are present in much of its director’s under-seen and overlooked work.

Through November 6 (32 Second Ave., between 1st and 2nd streets, 212-505-5181).