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The Ballad Of Cable Hogue sees Sam Peckinpah in jolly form. There is nothing here to trouble the censors, a bit of violence here and there - and some nasty human traits seam through the story, but this is purely a funny and touching movie that again deals with a Peckinpah fave theme of the Old West passing. Only difference is here he has his tongue firmly in cheek as he observes the thirst for finance sweeping across the country.

Cable Hogue is a prospector left for dead in the desert by his two double-crossing partners Bowen & Taggart. Wandering across the desert talking to god, Hogue collapses during a sandstorm and finds mud on his boot, after digging down for a while he finds the miracle of water (though Hogue badly misspells this on his advertisement). An encounter with preacher Joshua convinces Hogue to go patent his spring and make a killing selling water to the passing stagecoach trail that runs by his newly found oasis. After striking a deal in the town of Dead Dog, Hogue is set up nicely while into the bargain he falls for gorgeous prostitute Hildy. The film cheekily (just like Hogue) has established itself as a fine piece by the time it takes it's dark turn. It seems that revenge is the new found recipe on the Cable Springs Menu.

This was Sam Peckinpah's favourite film from his own CV, it's his most personal, he apparently saw a lot of himself in Cable Hogue, and with that in mind the film does gain a bit more emotional heart. But strikingly, it's the humour in there that shouldn't be understated, this was the director at one with himself, and the result is lyrical deftness. The cast are great, Jason Robards is wonderful in the title role, Stella Stevens as Hildy shows a fine actress at work. So much so it only makes me lament that she didn't have a great and industrious career post Cable Hogue. Peckinpah faves Strother Martin, L.Q. Jones & Slim Pickens reward their loyal director with impacting shows, while David Warner as the confused sexual predator preacher Joshua practically steals the film with his hedonistic leanings.

Don't go into this film expecting a blood and thunder Western and you will be pleasantly surprised at its thematic heartbeat. Different sort of Peckinpah, but it's also essential Peckinpah. 9/10

Peckinpah followed up his masterpiece, "The Wild Bunch," which featured slow-motion violence, with this gentle comedy western featuring fast-motion comedy. Robards is wonderful in the title role, a good-natured loser who hits upon a goldmine by stumbling upon a water spring in the desert. Stevens looks hot and has one of her best roles as a hooker with a heart of gold. The great supporting cast includes Martin and Jones, who seem to have picked up right where they left off in "The Wild Bunch." While enjoyable, it is perhaps a little too low-key to sustain a running time of two hours, and the ending is rather contrived. The soundtrack includes a couple of tuneful songs.

Extremely appealing fable from the celebrated director Sam Peckinpah, who works from an often poetic script by Edmund Penny and actor John Crawford. Here he and a very fine cast create some endearing characters worth getting to know. He also revisits the theme of the changing times in the American West (the story is set in 1908, and our characters marvel at the sight of a car). It crosses genres with ease - Western, drama, comedy - and even at 122 minutes, never feels padded out.

Jason Robards is excellent as the title character, betrayed by his lowlife associates, Bowen (Strother Martin), and Taggart (L.Q. Jones), and left to wander the desert on his own. Cable crosses the desert for days, almost certain to perish due to lack of water. Then, by miracle, Cable discovers an underground well of water. He travels to the nearest town to use his very meager funds to buy two acres in the area, and crafts what turns out to be a thriving way station in this desert wilderness. He also makes the acquaintance of wistful prostitute Hildy (Stella Stevens) and lustful preacher Joshua (David Warner).

Robards's compelling performance anchors this saga, as Cable courts the vague hope that someday Bowen and Taggart will stop by his place for water and he can get some revenge. The gorgeous Stevens - who does some rather tasteful nudity for the picture - flourishes in one of her best ever roles as Hildy, too, yearns for something more out of life. Warner supplies quite a bit of lecherous comedy relief, as he can't help helping himself to the ladies. This solid assemblage of actors also includes Slim Pickens, Peter Whitney, R.G. Armstrong, Gene Evans, Kathleen Freeman, and Vaughn Taylor.

Lovely, sun baked photography and a lush score by Jerry Goldsmith are other positive attributes to this poignant film, considered by some to be one of Peckinpahs' finest efforts.

Eight out of 10.

I didn't even know this was a Sam Peckinpah movie when I watched it. It has been programmed regularly on Cable TV here in the UK, and I idly switched over to it one Sunday evening. Cowboy movies in 2012? You must be joking! However, I was sufficiently hooked to watch this guy left for dead in the desert. It looks like Jason Robards, so it has to have something going for it. He finds a muddy puddle in the desert. OK, a cliché about this guy building up a prosperous business from scratch. Well, not quite. The clichés never happen. Instead the dialogue is interesting, poetic, never predictable. The character of Cable Hogue has depth and empathy. David Warner hoves into view as a disreputable preacher, dressed in black and thin as a gutter. In the nearest town we meet the hooker, played beautifully by the delectable Stella Stevens. OK, there are elements of slapstick which never quite work, but you feel the movie has something beyond the conventional western. When I discovered it was by Peckinpah, I immediately thought - yes, this is the work of a great director. Not a full-blown symphony, perhaps a string quartet (though by all accounts it cost enough to make). It leaves you with a feeling of satisfaction, tinged with melancholy. That coyote at the end has a collar - perhaps a symbol of the taming of the wilderness.

In direct response to the controversy which erupted over the unprecedented violence and gritty realism of The Wild Bunch, Sam Peckinpah did what many of the greatest American filmmakers have done over the years. His next project would end up being almost intentionally counter to the previous film.

The result was The Ballad of Cable Hogue, a small-scale, intimate tale that is equal parts a nostalgic look back to the Old West and a tribute to the kind of man capable of surviving and thriving in such an environment. Jason Robards is touching and firm as the title character, left for dead in the prologue but able to fight through his misfortunes and create his own oasis. Along the way, he encounters a most unusual and shifty man of the cloth and a prostitute with a heart of gold. Stella Stevens is really wonderful as Hildy, one of the best examples of this most ancient of Hollywood screenplay clichés. Her romance with Hogue is both sincere and sad as Peckinpah uses this as a template for how the romantic West quickly found its way into decline and obsolescence.

Peckinpah may have gotten a lot of flack for The Wild Bunch but this film received almost just as much criticism, ironically for being almost exactly not what he had come to be known for. However, some forty years later, Peckinpah's true vision of men unable to conform to the regularities of society shines through. Gorgeous photography, solid acting, a beautiful score and themes of survival and memory point to this as one of the most brutal Western director's gentlest and personal triumphs.