1969 movie
Rating: 19/20
Plot: Wild West outlaws are forced to flee to Bolivia with their girlfriend after a relentless posse begins to track them down. Crime doesn’t pay, but it sure is a lot of fun.
Since seeing this again, I’ve engaged in an internal dialogue trying to determine what to make of Burt Bacharach. On the one hand, the “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head” montage with Newman and Ross riding a bicycle seem completely out of place, and things get even sillier when it morphs into circus music and Newman’s performing stunts. Even in a movie with a comedic tone throughout, right up to the violent climax, it just doesn’t fit in. In fact, it’s a scene that I’m not sure would fit in any movie ever made. Another scene dirty with Bacharach once the character reach Bolivia also seems a little too kooky and misplaced. But then I think, “What the hell? Burt Bacharach is the shit, and Paul Newman’s bicycle stunts are about the greatest thing that’s ever appeared on the silver screen, and if you want to argue about it, I’ll slap you in the mouth.” And when you start threatening to slap your own mouth, it’s just not an argument worth having.
This is one of those movies I’d probably tell people is one of my favorites, and it’s really all about watching two superstars at the top of their games with a script by the great William Goldman that they both deserve. Newman and Redford’s rapport and comic timing are perfect as these flawed anti-heroes. Newman’s a little less than a tough guy, more brain than brawn here although it’s his character’s belief that he’s smarter than he actually is that makes him vulnerable in the end. But Newman’s coolness bleeds into that character, and you know that it really doesn’t matter all that much with Butch because live or die, he’s doing exactly what he’s been placed on Earth to do. His character’s established wonderfully at the beginning–after the brilliant opening scene with the sepia photographs and newsreel footage–when he discusses the beauty of the old bank. Redford’s characterized just as beautifully when he’s cheating or not cheating at cards and then gets a chance to show off his quick-draw. And he gets a mustache which almost matches his hair. Man, those cats are cool together. This scene between them might be one of my favorite scenes of all time:
Butch: Well, that ought to do it.
Boom!
Sundance: Think you used enough dynamite there, Butch?”
And then Strother “I’m not crazy; I’m just colorful” Martin comes in and steals the show! Coming in this late and outshining the combined powers of Newman and Redford can only mean that Martin’s performance as Percy Garris is one of the best supporting character-actor type roles ever. Katherine Ross is not able to keep up with the pair as the “teacher lady,” but her first appearance, where the camera just leers and we get a beautiful close-up of buttons, is coolly erotic. And I love how the bad guys–er, good guys–are never seen, all a barely-spotted white hat and thunderous hooves. As we all know, bad guys are more menacing when you can’t really see them. Of course, this simple story is about a lot more than just two cool outlaws trying to escape their deserved fates. It’s about how the times they are a-changin’ and how some, like our protagonists, are unable to adapt and therefore left behind. This is really a story about guys afraid of evolution, and that posse the boys can’t shake is the future. Some guys can’t escape their past. These guys can’t escape their futures. That opening scene with Newman reminiscing about the beauty of the old bank establishes the idea while the bicycle–eventually abandoned in a mud puddle–and the Bacharach lounge-pop seems to represent it. Jeff Corey’s Sheriff Bledsoe says it best: “Your times is over and you’re gonna die bloody, and all you can do is choose where.” Breezy dialogue, an extended chase action sequence through lovely scenery, bicycle stunts, and an iconic final shot. This is about as enormously entertaining as a movie can be.
