"If they move, kill'em"

The title of my review is taken from the movie and it reflects the simplicity of the characters depicted in it. And yet something painfull is happening to these men, these bad men. 19th century has just ended, new technologies and inventions and therefore new customs and a new life style are emerging. Like in every such transitional period a Nietzschean "revaluation of values" is also taking place. The outlaws and their manners in the movie are simply revalued. So much so, one of their former fellows is now in the hunt to catch or kill them hired by the law enforcement. This new world has no place for them and having lost the spot they can set foot, they now don't know what to make of themselves. The problem they face is not the angry townsmen who are following them behind, nor the tyrant Mexican army officer. The problem they face is themselves! When they finally hit the Mexican soldiers they know it is a total suicide, but it is their way out. They literally do for the hell of it. The movie was good in picturing the violence at the time but judged with todays standards it might look pedestrean. It's not a Kill Bill! For me the most emotional moment was when they entered the Mexican villiage and met the red autombile and had a discussion about it. It is the moment where every meaning in this nihilistic movie, in which there is no meaning, crystallizes. Peckinpah in his mind has lived in that Texas Mexico border and many of his characters were either the victims of a revaluation of values era or those who were tired of living and afraid of dieing. Wild Bunch is the best of his style.

"Mr. Thornton, it's them." DUH!

I finally get it - it's a comedy!

Most Barcalounger Western fans consider director Sam Peckinpah's western to be a seminal work in the genre. I guess this is because Peckinpah depicted people being shot as though they were actually taking a bullet. Prior to this, characters in Westerns would clutch their stomachs, call out for their Mommas and fall to the ground in dramatic Shakespearean fashion. Why critics thought this film was especially groundbreaking probably has to do with the fact that most film critics are lucky if they can make it to the popcorn stand and back without breaking a sweat. In other words, their range of actual experience is semi-limited and seeing somebody get realistically shot seemed new and cool at the time.

And of course it's all the rage now to glorify a director of Peckinpah's "vision", much like Stanley Kubrick. Movies don't have to entertain anymore, or make any sense as long as they're different and The Wild Bunch is different-as far as I know we even have the genre's first two gay killers in LQ Jones and Strother Martin. Now these two are FUNNY, but not as funny as General Mapache with his finger superglued to the trigger of a Gatling gun. Now THAT was funny!

Yes, the Western was dying as a genre in 1969 and the characters in the film were dying as viable villains and that does lend itself to overzealous analysis. Thats fine, but over 3600 scene-to-scene cuts/edits goes way past the point of reasonableness. It leaves the viewer dizzy in the wake of a director's blatant self-indulgence and disregard for his audience and honestly it's just plain tiresome to watch.

My Opinion: Overrated with a capital "O" as well as overlong. I will give credit to the director for his obvious passion for creativity, but does it work-NO! Aside from the blood and guts this film's departure from the tried and true western formula leaves you flat- there aren't any "good guys" in this movie. There was no one to root for or against-you just don't care one way or the other. This movie is totally pointless and the director knows this, it's a joke on the audience exemplified by the whiskey bottle scene where Warren Oates is left holding the empty bottle with nothing to drink- it's a metaphor for what you are left holding at the end of the movie-NOTHING.

Even the famous "walk" into Mapache's compound for the showdown is hilarious...with shotguns casually cradled in their arms and a dumb grin on their face these guys look more like they're going duck hunting, not marching to their almost inevitable demise. "Glory through stupidity" is what I think the director is trying to convey in this scene.

And although the big gun fight may have been groundbreaking at the time, I find it just doesn't make this movie into a classic all by itself. The entire rest of this film is mediocre at best. The bridge scene is the clear highlight of the film but where are the multiple camera angles when you really need them? Not only is this NOT the greatest Western of all time, and not even close to being one of the top 50 Westerns ever made, it's not even Peckinpah's best Western - that honor belongs to "Ride the High Country," a much less grotesque and far superior film.

Final analysis: It's a joke on the public and the critics, all who refuse to say anything negative about this film. The final shoot out is hysterical and it offers William Holden's best line of the movie..."Bitch." Take a cue from Edmund O'Brien and Robert Ryan in the final scene....they're laughing along with the rest of the cast via flashbacks and so am I at anyone who thinks this is some sort of masterpiece. Is it creative film making-yes, does it pass for entertainment-NO, is it any good-Hell NO! To those of you that insist this is the "greatest western of all time" I submit you don't know a hell of a lot about westerns. My suggestion to you all is to go rent the Trinity series, Lucky Luke, and Zachariah-you'll find them just as appealing as they are stupid and irrelevant, much like the Wild Bunch. Oh yeah, and don't forget to pick up a copy of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid while you're out, it's even worse. 2 black cats

nihilistic, disturbing, a feast of blood and squalor

Contemporaneous with "Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid," and facially similar, the two films reflect polar opposites in the Western pantheon. The former glamorized two handsome, dashing rogues. The latter deglamorized the entire romantic notion of the Western, dousing it with blood, malice and squalor.

Both films present the loyalty of hard men at the end of their eras. Prostitutes, love affairs, capers and courage are brush strokes both employ - yet where Butch and Sundance flee the horsemen of the apocalypse all the way to Bolivia, the Wild Bunch grab it - in the form of the climactic gatling gun - and turn it upon a horde of soldiers, in the process subverting every cliche of Western heroism in favor of brutal, mechanized slaughter.

In a way, the Wild Bunch both condemns and glorifies a bloodthirsty gun culture at its zenith, treating every character with penetrating ambivalence. The tone fits a world where real violence is too often done without real purpose.