Wild Bunch
Sometimes you can have a situation where a movie that is considered by many to be âgreatâ is thought of as such for having a truly amazing opening scene and an unforgettable finale on top of it, but really everything in between not really proving to have that much of a story along with the fact that the overall enterprise is probably just a bit too long in the tooth when it comes to the running time. A film that is overrated and yet still an important cinematic masterpiece, hampered by a slow story and poor writing but yet still managing to get across its numerous and impressive themes and messages at the expense of the actors and even its own characters. Such is the case with legendary maverick director Sam Peckinpahâs 1969 opus, a Western about the death of the Old West (and those who rode in it), but with plenty to say besides that most notably that of the ugly nature of violence itself which brings us to the historic side of the film. Hollywood had just started dipping its toe in the depiction of onscreen graphic violence in a major film just two years before with Arthur Pennâs Bonnie And Clyde, although admittedly everything that was attempted in it was of a fairly limited nature and the big studios were still unsure about making a full on commitment to that style even after that filmâs success, until Peckinpah stepped up to the plate here and decided that HE was not only going to make the most gruesomely violent film made up to that time (and still one of the most violent of all time today), but he was also going to depict that violence in all of its ugly, grotesque glory, and in so doing make the appropriately ironic statement that both he and the film itself were actually ANTI violence, because Peckinpah crazily figured that if one could see just how horrific cold blooded murder was from all points of view, then who would commit such acts in real life? The film opens with a little something along those lines, as the filmâs title gang of outlaws quietly ride into a small town dressed like Calvary soldiers and head towards a Wells Fargo bank that they intend to rob. Little do they know though that the whole thing is a setup, as a gang of bounty hunters across the street prepare to ambush them as soon as they come walking out. But wait! A bunch of Bible Thumpers on an anti alcohol crusade are marching down the street in a procession that includes women, children, and even a band. Worse, both sides have managed to see them coming, along with having spotted each other. And as soon as the parade of innocents and potential hostages have moved into place between the two parties, does the gunfight actually begin, and horrific it is indeed, as Peckinpah uses editing tricks to cause us to get completely lost in the bloody carnage, not even allowing the viewer to discern which of the characters (if any) that weâve already become familiar with have just been shot up into dogmeat, but when it comes to unarmed innocent bystanders caught up in the crossfire, then well, letâs just say let the bodies hit the floor. Reportedly this opening scene was said to be so graphic and intense for audiences back in 1969 that they were literally vomiting in the aisles, having never seen anything like that before onscreen, and certainly not in a genre as classic and oldschool as the Western. Once the surviving members escape and get settled, weâre finally able to meet them formally, starting with their leader, Pike Bishop (William Holden, who does receive the benefit of having his character fleshed out by the script), considered to be âthe best of the bestâ when it comes to robbing and stealing, but is also said to have a near sixth sense when it comes to the art of avoiding getting himself captured. First established by being shown shooting a wounded compadre who âcanât go onâ, we also come to learn that the man has a rock solid code of honor that he expects the others to respect as well, and Holden himself (an incredibly underrated actor in the history of American cinema who never really has gotten his due to be considered worthy of iconic status) gives probably one of his best performances here, using his own strength and conviction to keep the others together during the toughest of times. Then we have Ernest Borgnine as Dutch Engstrom, easily the heart of the film just by his sheer loyalty but yet a classic case where everything good about the performance emanates from the legendary Borgnineâs own personal contributions to the character and not really from the script itself, as Dutch is an underwritten role yet it is Borgnineâs own presence and charisma that makes it noteworthy, most notably in his quiet anger and desperation at seeing one of his own subjected to beatings and torture upon capture. Next up is Warren Oates and Ben Johnson as the two wild brothers who are also members of The Bunch, again not very well written either but still redeemed by Oatesâ crazed intensity and Johnsonâs stoic orneriness, with the two of them having a particular fondness for prostitutes, anywhere and anytime that they can get them, with the pair taking a dip in a barrel of wine with three professional ladies (all played by real Mexican hookers) being their shared highlight of the film. Edmond OâBrien takes the role of Sykes, said by Holden to have once been a proficient killer and thief in his own right, but is now reduced to being a crazy old coot who kind of serves as almost being the gangâs mascot and resident prophet of doom (sadly ironic since OâBrien was already deep into the stages of the Alzeimerâs that would eventually kill him). Then throw in Jaime Sanchez as the young Mexican member (and budding revolutionary whose hot blooded temper is his biggest weakness) and you have this group, all the time being pursued by a team of bounty hunters led by Robert Ryanâs Deke Thornton, a former member of the gang (and best friend of Holdenâs), saddled with a group of absolutely dirty ass misfits including Strother Martin and L.Q. Jones, all of them being forms of life so lowly that they actually start whooping and hollering at the sight of a dead man because now they can strip him of his boots and other belongings, which doesnât make Ryanâs decision to pursue his old gang any easier (as opposed to a long prison sentence) as just one look at these vermin that heâs forced to carry around is guaranteed to make him miss his old compadres. As said, outside of the outstanding bookending sequences of the film, there really isnât much of a story for a near 2 and a half hour film, with the most notable highlights being a handful of male bonding scenes amongst the men, a halfhearted train robbery, and the blowing up of a bridge in order to deter Ryanâs people, as the movie establishes that the Ryan character literally knows Holden so well that he can pinpoint his next strategic move with astounding accuracy, but yet the extra long running time does begin to wear on the viewer as we slog towards the end. But what an end! The Bunch makes the acquaintance of a Mexican general (Emilio Fernandez) and his men (which includes Alfonso Arau, best known as the likably crazy asshole from Romancing The Stone) who has commissioned them to do the train robbery in order to obtain some rifles and ammo, but unfortunately the Sanchez character happens to be connected to the revolutionaries that The General is fighting against, and tacitly gets The Bunch to agree to hand over just one box of guns and ammo to the Pancho Villa-led enemies of the men who had hired them, a ruse that The General sniffs out and uses it to apprehend Sanchez while letting the others walk free, a situation which (unlike many more ruthless criminals) neither Holden nor the others (especially Borgnine) can actually live with, leading to their fateful decision (partially based also on their shared feeling that theyâll never truly be free to actually settle down or find a retirement base or tropical paradise to call their own and thus deciding to go out on THEIR own terms) to take a stand for their friend, and then of course we have whatâs commonly known in cinema history as The Walk, with them legendarily striding into cinema history to give The General and his men the bad news. With the death of The Old West comes the stepping down of the tired old men who made a lifetime of surviving in it, and as chaotically stupefying as the ending is with four tough old bastards taking on a whole army, so is it full of ugliness too, with the shooting down and taking hostage of women also being done by our âheroesâ during the siege, but at least in the end, they all went down together for what they believed in, and possibly gained a measure of redemption in the process too, with the final reconciliation scene between Ryan and the only other last surviving member which somehow helps to reinforce the notion that if a beloved way of life as you know it is ending sometime soon, then itâs best to just stick to your guns and live on only your own terms and not by what any others tell you to, and that alone as a final message was just good enough on Peckinpahâs part to get through to all of us and help create a Western classicâŚ
9/10