Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid

Sam Peckinpah's "Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid" has much in common with "One-Eyed Jacks"; Marlon Brando's take on the Billy the Kid story, which was based on Charles Neider's novel, "The Authentic Death of Hendry Jones".

Although Neider's book, ridiculously renamed "Guns Up" in a Pan paperback edition (the one I read), is a fictionalised account, it is an unforgettable masterpiece, invoking a unique sense of nostalgia for the Old West. Peckinpah loved the book and was inspired to write what turned out to be the first screenplay for "One-Eyed Jacks", later made by Marlin Brando who changed just about every element.

Although Peckinpah dropped out of that project early, when he finally got a chance to make his version, he moved a long way from Neider's book. In fact, the script moved closer to the historical record. However, although Neider's book is not credited, it's obvious that Peckinpah tried to capture its spirit.

The story tells how Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid once rode together, but eventually found themselves on opposites sides of the law. When Billy brutally escapes from jail, in one of the film's best sequences, it sets in motion a ruthless hunt by Pat Garrett, which can only have one ending.

Peckinpah actually frames the film with the death of Garrett. This sequence along with others have the trademark Peckinpah slow motion deaths with arching blood spray - techniques that had already become a little hackneyed even by 1973.

However, the central problem was in Peckinpah's casting of Kris Kristofferson. Not so much, as many reviewers have suggested, that at 37 he was too old to play Billy the Kid, but more because he just didn't project the necessary sense of danger; he comes across as too affable, too laid back. Brando in "One Eyed Jacks" gave a stunning performance as a man with a dangerous edge, and although it might seem unfair to compare the two, that lack of threat is a key weakness in Peckinpah's film.

Bob Dylan is in the movie and also provides a couple of very nasally songs on the soundtrack; his presence isn't just anachronistic, it's bizarre.

On the other hand, James Coburn is just about perfect as Pat Garrett, and the rest of the cast is probably the greatest coming together of iconic stars from western movies ever - Chill Wills, Slim Pickens, Jack Elam, LQ Jones, Katy Jurado, Gene Evans, Paul Fix and others - one of the joys of the film is in spotting them.

Apparently the film was badly cut by the studio. Despite that, and some strange decisions by Peckinpah himself, the film is nothing less than interesting. But because of all the tampering, like Brando's film, it misses out on greatness. As for Neider's book, it still awaits the right filmmaker to give it the definitive treatment on the screen.

This movie begins with a very cruel opening scene. For kicks, Billy the Kid, his friends and Pat Garrett are shooting the heads off chickens. Unfortunately, it appears as if the scene is 100% real. Now the blood and headless chickens didn't sicken me, but killing any animal for entertainment's sake seems sick--and is one of the few cases where I'd agree with the PETA folks. At least in other Sam Peckinhaph films where you see killing, it's all fake and it involves people who have a choice in the matter.

"Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid" is a revisionist film. Instead of all the old clichés of westerns, it keeps a few and introduces some new ones. In some ways it appears more realistic than earlier westerns, but to a retired history teacher like me, it's still a real mess. First for the good. Most of the folks in this film DON'T wear cowboy hats, they are often pretty filthy and some of the killing is far from glorious--such as shooting your enemy in the back. You certainly didn't see this in Roy Rogers' films and it's nice to see SOME attempt at realism. Now for the bad. Although the film looks more like the real West, it promotes a stupid stereotype of the bandit as a hero. The real-life Billy the Kid was a pretty ugly guy (based on the one surviving picture of him) and a murderer. He was NOT a hero of the people who fought against the evil cattle barons--he was just a cheap hood. But, here in "Pat Garrett...", he's handsome Kris Kristofferson and he is a force of good in a West filled with evil. He murders, but the men are enemies of the people and rapists. Instead, the lawman Pat Garrett is the nasty bully--the creep given a gun and told to kill for corporate America. If you think about it, this is a western for the Occupy Wall Street folks...but not history teachers!

Apart from all the inaccuracy, is it a good film? Maybe. It all depends on what you are looking for in a film. If you want the usual Peckinpah slow-motion violence with lots of unrealistic blood, swearing and occasional nudity, then you'll probably like the film very much. If this sort of stuff turns you off, then the film may be tough going--even with some nice performances. As for me, I found it all to be slow...very slow. And, since I'm not particularly a Peckinpah fan, I felt like it was a decent time-passer and nothing more.

Sam Peckinpah really is not the full problem or liability with Pat Garret & Billy the Kid, though he's not totally innocent in what shortcomings come with the film. The story by Rudy Wurlizter provides a mix of extraordinary scenes and some all-too laid-back ones or scenes that don't feel like there is any real dramatic pull or total interest in the dialog. The other great scenes, which make up the most memorable bits of the film, provide Peckinpah with enough to put his distinctive visual style and subversive approach to character dynamics and conventions of the Western genre, but the parts end up becoming greater than the whole. The version I saw, the 2005 cut, doesn't seem like it would do any more or less better with fine tuning, and it does feel like a Peckinpah movie more often than not. The story is simple, and has been told more times than one could try to count unless in historical context of the genre: Billy the Kid is a murderous criminal out on the lam, and Pat Garret, the sheriff, is out to get him by hook or by crook. The twist that Peckinpah provides at the core is that it's not a completely intense thriller with a lot of chases, but more of a journey where the two men- who before becoming Dead-or-Alive Wanted-man and newly appointed Sheriff were sort of on friendly terms (as first scene shows well and clear)- are not in a big rush to meet their fates, even if the whole experience is starting to make things all the more embittered.

Pat Garret & Billy the Kid does provide, at the very least, some very great scenes throughout- some of the best I've seen in any Peckinpah film- and is a reminder of why the director was an important figure, and remains as such, in American cinema. Scenes like the river-side bit where Pat Garret shoots at the same bottle floating in the river as the guy with his family on the river-raft does; the astoundingly dead-pan shooting scene between Billy (Kris Kristofferson) and Alamosa (Jack Elam) where they sit down for a peaceful meal and go to it without much of a fuss in front of Alamosa's family; the scene with Garret getting the man to drink in the bar too much as Alias (Bob Dylan) reads off the products on the other side of the room in order to shoot him down; the scenes (in the 2005 cut that seem fairly important) showing Garret and his attitude towards women, either with his wife or with the prostitutes. It's a shame then that after the first twenty minutes or so, which includes that unforgettable shoot-out (one of the best in Peckinpah's Westerns) as Garret first corners Billy at the hide-out and drags him off to a not-quite jail before his escape, it then goes sort of up and down in full interest.

It's not that I wouldn't recommend Pat Garret & Billy the Kid, far from it, and especially for fans of the genre looking for a grim turn of the screws on one of those old-time mythic Western stories. The only main issue is that, in an odd way, the other side of the coin that Peckinpah and his writer are working with here- subversion- has the side of almost being too at ease with itself, of being too comfortable just rolling along. This might be in part due to the leads themselves; Coburn, to be sure, is a pro as always and is especially good in the almost anti-climax at the Fort, but Kristofferson is not very well-rounded, and comes off as being sort of all grins and smiles when he should be living up a little more to his reputation. It's so against-the-grain of the old-west that it comes close (though it doesn't, contrary to what Ebert said in his review) to being dull. Luckily, Peckinpah never lets it get too uninteresting, and there's always something to look forward to, like the touching, actually poetic final scene with Slim Pickens, and seeing the likes of Stanton, Elam and Robards in various roles.

Dylan, on the other hand, is sort of a double-edged sword here. The music that he provides for the film, which includes guitar segways, lyricism and some classic songs (with 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door' just the right effect when used), is one of the very best things about the movie. But his presence as "Alias" is not as good. He seems to be there more for the sake of being in a Western, or a Peckinpah movie, and taking aside his shtick about feeling like he was a character here in a previous life or whatever, he's almost a non-entity, and alongside the seasoned character actors and old pros at doing this it doesn't feel quite right. This being said, he's not too much of a deterrent, and it's great having the music put to scenes that wouldn't be the same without it all. And, of course, it's Peckinpah all the way, with the men in a sort of damned state of affairs, knowing deep down that the chosen paths are not very easily traveled, and always surrounded by the most distinct, brutal and realistic violence possible. It's the kind of Western I probably wouldn't pass up if it came on TV and I had a good shot of whiskey, though it doesn't reach the level of practical perfection like the Wild Bunch.

I enjoyed the film very much, in part because Peckinpah continues his theme, as he did in "Ballad of Cable Hogue" and "The Wild Bunch", of the illusion of who is "good" and who is "evil." Also, Peckinpah mourns the passing of people such as Garrett and Billy; at one point Garrett says to Poe, "This country's getting old, and I'm to get old with it." Garrett knows that he and Billy, among others, are to disappear from the West as big business and civilization advance, and Garrett tries to avoid this by selling out to Chisum (Barry Sullivan) and the Santa Fe Ring. But Garrett is a torn man; he is trying to avoid the tide of history by avoiding the eventual meeting with Billy, while also trying to avoid the financial forces (e.g., Chisum) that are making individuals such as himself disappear, so that big business will take over. The entire film is really a depiction of Garrett and Billy avoiding each other in order to resist historical forces that they would have a better chance of surviving if both of them left New Mexico or if both of them were on the same side. However, Garrett feels that aligning himself with the ranchers is better for survival, but in the end the hand that fed him, so to speak, is the same hand that destroys him. A truly poetic, and quite elegiac film, one that I feel is underrated among Peckinpah's films.

I have seen this film twice with a 20 year gap in between. Seeing the movie a second time, you begin to wonder not about the main characters but about the tertiary ones. For instance, where is Mrs Garrett? Pat Garrett tells someone to inform her that he is coming home. Is this one of the characters chopped off by the studios?

The Katy Jurado character of a rifle shooting sheriff's wife seems only half developed, though the actress gets important billing in the credits.

The Harry Dean Stanton role is again a short but interesting one getting out of bed to provide room for Billy's sexual needs.

The Alias character played by Bob Dylan is mysterious. He watches and is smart and reflects the young generation. Why does Billy ask him to read the list on the wall? What was Pekinpah doing with these characters? He was not a fool--he wanted to develop the characters that were probably chopped off.

Would Pekinpah have chosen another actress to play Billy's love interest if Rita Coolidge was not married to Kristofferson at the time the film was made? The kids in the film provide the antidote to the lethal violence--in their angelic responses, visual and aural.

I commend the work of Canadian Roger Spottiswoode (editor turned director) in trying to put the film together the way Pekinpah would have preferred it. The version I saw recently has additional scenes but not the one with the death of the Katy Jurado character, which apparently Spottiswoode restored. Now the film's major achievements are photography, screenplay (the growing moustache of Garrett is an example of detail), and somewhat brilliant direction.

Evidently cinematographer John Coquillon liked to work for Pekinpah (Straw Dogs). Coquillon's work is superb here but strangely his later works do not show the same spirit behind the camera. Could he only deliver with Pekinpah and not with others?

I found this film a fine work, philosophical and aethetically satisfying. From what has been seen, I suspect Pekinpah had a better film in mind that never left the studios. Coburn and Kristofferson did justice to their roles, developing them as an actor could. The film in my view is one of the most interesting westerns I have seen giving importance to the legion of subsidiary characters. I only wish they were fleshed out even more. This film is not mindless--it makes you think. Now that's entertainment.