Evies Blog

Sam Peckinpah’s ‘The Wild Bunch’ is a masterpiece western. Not the best ever made, but end. So don’t deem I don’t like this movie because I adore it. However, since Mexicans are its villains, perhaps you’d be eager to read an notion from this side of the border.

The Mexico of ‘The Wild Bunch’ looks more like a metaphor than a accurate state. It is both Heaven and Hell; the theatre where the bunch will gain Death but also Redemption. Accordingly, every Mexican depicted in the record is either a saint or a monster (no middle ground here, except for the Mexican member of the Bunch, who is aptly named “Angel”, although a fallen one) . This serves the myth splendidly, for it’s meant to be an memoir ballad and not a travelogue, but it does jolt the Mexican viewer because the “gracious Mexico” is portrayed so idyllic it’s unreal, while the “poor Mexico” is very, very accurate; in fact, no American movie has captured the peruse, sound, feel, texture and carnage of the Mexican Revolution as this one has (even if the grandiose final scene, where the Bunch kills hundreds of heavily armed soldiers all by themselves and none of the four falls down even when riddled by bullets, defies all logic!) . Perhaps that’s why it was banned in Mexico aid when it was released in 1969.

Funny, for it was filmed in Mexico as well. The Texas bordertown you watch at the begining of the account is actually Parras, Coahuila, and many of its citizens acted as extras in the movie: white ones as “Texans”, brown ones as -what else? - Mexicans! Don Raúl Madero, brother of Francisco I. Madero, the man who started the Mexican Revolution, appears …as a Texan! Even the two German officers are Mexican! So, as you can observe, we Mexicans advance in all shapes, sizes and colors, and hardly fit these two plain “edifying peasant”-”greaser bandito” stereotypes American movies seem so comfortable with! I hope some day Hollywood realizes this and “scuttle the extra mile” to relate us for what we are: a very complex and diverse society. Neither saints, nor monsters, and certainly not mere bowling pins!

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P.S.: Many gargantuan Mexican directors, all personal friends of Peckinpah, appear in the film. Emilio “Indio” Fernández (Mapache) and Chano Urueta (Angel’s grandfather) were the best of our cinema’s Golden Age. Fernando Wagner (German officer) was also a competent theatre director, and Alfonso Arau (Herrera) is best known for his international hit ‘Like Water for Chocolate’. Jorge Russek (Zamorra) was an outstanding photographer for National Geographic, and Sonia Amelio (Teresa) is a world-aclaimmed dancer (she was even awarded with an “Order of Lenin” support in the Soviet Union) . And impartial for the report, the word “Mapache” (”racoon”) stands for “coward thief”. No Mexican general, no matter how contaminated, would expend, I enjoy, such a nickname! And since Mapache is “a killer working for Huerta”, the action takes location in 1913, not 1916 (Huerta was ousted in early 1914) .

There’s not mighty that can be illustrious about Sam Peckinpah’s incandescent 1969 western anecdote “The Wild Bunch” that has not already been written. It was an unanticipated, influential work where all things came together, but for a moment, the waste product a big, sweeping canvas of intimacy between comrades, violence between combatants, desperate inflame amidst changing times. Piece Kurosawa, section Siegel, share Fuller, allotment Ford, Peckinpah combined his inspirations with a healthy dose of 1960s rebellion producing the ultimate work of his generation, and one of the greatest westerns in history. It was Peckinpah’s broad fortune that the factual actors were available for this film - William Holden and Robert Ryan in the twilight of their memorable careers, Ernest Borgnine with honest enough youth to be a perfect and accurate presence, Edmond O’Brien chewing up the scenery with tobacco-stained teeth, and of course Peckinpah friends Strother Martin, L.Q. Jones and Warren Oates in salty supporting roles. It was also his colossal fortune cinematographer Lucien Ballard and composer Jerry Fielding were also on hand to participate in his steadfast vision.

Peckinpah also had something to demonstrate at this point in his career, when he was collected a hungry director with a vision, before alcoholism, disillusionment and celebrity region took beget. He hid nothing from viewers, and his contradictory heart was laid bare in “The Wild Bunch.” The direction and editing during the violent moments of this film - the opening bank robbery and the concluding battle with the Mexican army - are some of the most unforgettable scenes ever keep on film. But ironically, and this was usually the case in most Peckinpah films, it is the serene moments one remembers. Pike (Holden) and Dutch’s (Borgnine) uncomfortable conversation next to a campfire; The Bunch riding out of Angel’s village as if in a funeral procession; Deke (Ryan) taking Pike’s pistol from it’s holster, gently holding it in his hand; and of course Pike standing in the doorway and mouthing two simple words, “Let’s go.”

And of course you have The Sail, in which Holden, Borgnine, Oates and Ben Johnson quietly initiate loading their guns, cocking them, arming themselves, smiling at one another, standing shoulder to shoulder. There’s not mighty left for these forgotten outlaws who have lived past their time. Objective a code of honor, unbiased their self respect. And so they Breeze into the heart of the Mexican army to retrieve their comrade Angel, a prisoner and personal enemy of General Mapache. These surviving members of The Wild Bunch are free to go, but Angel, youthful, love-struck, rebellious, was one of them. They are not going to leave their comrade.

Buy,Download, Or Stream The Wild Bunch! Click Here

After viewing the astounding documentary “The Wild Bunch: An Album In Montage” and seeing the rare footage of Peckinpah literally improvising The Run, walking alongside Holden, Borgnine, Oates and Johnson, inventing by instinct, one realizes how fiercely creative this man was as a director. This film was his moment in time, his vision, his plan, Peckinpah’s nightmarish and improbable dream.

Peckinpah never really made a film quite like “The Wild Bunch” again. Of course, no director ever really has before or since. His uneven career of 14 films, some apt, some not, has been renowned and honored. Peckinpah the man, adorned in former jeans and bandanna, certainly perpetuated his myth-like position. But in the raze, you will always have “The Wild Bunch,” an unforgettable film, raw, gritty, whiskey-soaked, sublime. I yell whenever I look this film. I scream in fright. All things came together for Peckinpah on “The Wild Bunch,” and the moment is everlasting.
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