Fifty+ years after a controversial release, the biggest surprise in THE WILD BUNCH is its lack of surprise. Jagged edits, slo-mo violence, squib-happy bloodletting, sullied protagonists; now standard issue for what remains of the Western genre. Not that stylistic absorption has lessened the quality or impact of Sam Peckinpah’s sweeping end-of-an-era South-of-the-Border Western. But the story now reads in an unexpectedly simpler manner, following a gang of aging outlaws on the run after a failed ambush interrupts their attempted robbery. Then ‘romancing’ what they half know will be the end of the line for them by ripping off a shipment of U.S. Army guns & ammo for a renegade Mexican ‘Generale’ and his militia of cutthroat revolutionaries. (Or are they anti-revolutionaries?) What stands out now are the character turns by a stellar cast of prematurely grizzled stars, many of them, like Peckinpah himself, offering a striking return to form: William Holden, Robert Ryan, Edmond O’Brien, Ben Johnson, Ernest Borgnine. (Was the gay angle on Borgnine’s character as clear & straightforward at the time? His relief at seeing Holden come out of a bordello before the bloodbath climax like a suppressed reaction shot from BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN/’05.)
ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: Who but Peckinpah would open a film with a nod toward Shakespeare’s KING LEAR and Luis Buñuel, showing a group of sadistic kids torturing scorpions with attacking red ants before setting the whole mini-corral aflame.
DOUBLE-BILL/READ ALL ABOUT IT: W. K. Stratton probably goes into too much detail in his ‘making of’ book: THE WILD BUNCH, while Peckinpah masterworks like RIDE THE HIGH COUNTRY/’62, BALLAD OF CABLE HOGUE/’70, JUNIOR BONNER/’72 and BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA/’74 go begging for attention.
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