Abgerechnet wird zum Schluss

Cable Hogue (Jason Robards) is left in the desert without any water.After a few days he finds a springs with lots of water. He offers some water to the stagecoach passengers for money. Until the automobiles take over.He becomes a friend with a preacher Joshua Sloane (David Warner).In the nearest town lives a whore called Hildy (Stella Stevens) who becomes Cable's lover and later they move together.Sam Peckinpah directed a terrific western comedy in 1970-one year after he directed The Wild Bunch.Some people may not like it so much because it isn't as violent as The Wild Bunch but I don't mind, I don't mind at all. The casting in the movie is brilliant.Jason Robards was a perfect man to play Cable Hogue.The movie has many memorable scenes.The Ballad of Cable Hogue left a good taste in my mouth- and I still haven't got it out.

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.

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.

It can be argued that Jason Robards gave his career screen performance in the title role of in The Ballad of Cable Hogue. Borrowing heavily from Lee Marvin's Kid Shalleen from Cat Ballou, Robards is one desert rascal who turns a crisis into a moneymaker.

Old time prospector Cable Hogue is deserted and left to die on the desert by his two partners, Strother Martin and L.Q. Jones. Ready to cash it in, he happens on some water, the only water in a desert between two Nevada towns. With only 35 cents to his name, he takes a claim on the two acres where that spring is and through some wit and rascally charm he gets the stagecoach line to open up a station right there.

In the list of Sam Peckinpah's screen credits this is the only comedy in the bunch and I'm surprised he didn't do more. None of those slow motion hymns to violence are in this film, but Peckinpah does show a good sense of comedy which given the type of stuff he normally did you wouldn't think he would have.

Of course the other half of the credit for The Ballad of Cable Hogue belongs to Jason Robards and the droll performance he delivers. Cable Hogue is a man who's got a good sense of himself and ain't easily trifled with.

Stella Stevens is good as the tart where her heart ought to be. And such Peckinpah regulars as Slim Pickens and R.G. Armstrong round out a very capable supporting cast.

For unusual taste of Peckinpah, you really ought to see The Ballad of Cable Hogue.

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.