There hadn't really been anything much like this Western on the screen before Pekinpah put it there. It's not predictable, the way life is not predictable.
I guess there's nothing unusual in the story of two aging gunfighters teaming up for a last job (within the law) with one (Scott) being a bit more relaxed in his morals than the other (McRea). It must be tough to transport a bag full of gold around without being tempted. And it isn't unusual for a movie like this to have a handsome but inexperienced youngster (Starr) tagging along so that he can fall in love with the young woman who joins their merry group. So far it sounds a lot like something Randolph Scott might have made with Budd Boetticher a few years earlier.
But there the expectability just about ends. The acting by all is above par, especially Scott who, for the first time in human memory, is someone burdened with unethical impulses.
It's the script and Pekinpah's direction that make us aware of the fact that there is something new afoot in this ancient genre.
The dialog, for one thing, is full of colloquial felicities. Scott accuses McRae of "ironbound ethics." And the two of them have a hilarious discursive conversation while McRae soaks his tired feet in a creek. Scott joins him and picks up one of McRae's boots, which has a hole through the sole. The exchange is something like this. Scott: "I see you believe in ventilation." McRae: "Those boots were made by Raoul in San Antonio. Special order. I had a hell of a time persuading him to put that hole in there." Scott: "I remember Raoul. Good man. He believed that the boot should always cover the foot." Neither actor cracks a smile while this absurd conversation is taking place. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the story that is unfolding.
There is another distinctly non-lyrical interlude. The three men -- Scott, McRae, and Starr -- deliver Hartley to her boyfriend in the mining settlement of Coarse Gold. What follows is a perversion of everything that was so amusing about "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." Not only does Hartley almost get raped pronto by her boy friend, but his four brothers also expect to share his bounty, and at the wedding dance (in Kate's cathouse) they slaver over her and give her lengthy and disgusting smooches.
McRae and Scott manage to rescue her from the clutches of these libidinous maniacs and ride off with her, but they are followed by the five brothers and in the final shootout, McRae is mortally wounded and left to die. (In the last shot, as he dies, he rolls gently out of the frame and the camera does not follow him.) I think either I or the editor lost something because the first brother, who looks like an inbred geek, is referred to as dead before the shootout, but I don't recall his being dispatched.
At one point, Scott tells McRae: "You know what a poor man's clothes are? The ones on his back when they bury him. Is that all you want?" And McRae thinks for a moment and replies, "All I want is to enter my house justified." This is a pretty good Western from a new talent.
I guess there's nothing unusual in the story of two aging gunfighters teaming up for a last job (within the law) with one (Scott) being a bit more relaxed in his morals than the other (McRea). It must be tough to transport a bag full of gold around without being tempted. And it isn't unusual for a movie like this to have a handsome but inexperienced youngster (Starr) tagging along so that he can fall in love with the young woman who joins their merry group. So far it sounds a lot like something Randolph Scott might have made with Budd Boetticher a few years earlier.
But there the expectability just about ends. The acting by all is above par, especially Scott who, for the first time in human memory, is someone burdened with unethical impulses.
It's the script and Pekinpah's direction that make us aware of the fact that there is something new afoot in this ancient genre.
The dialog, for one thing, is full of colloquial felicities. Scott accuses McRae of "ironbound ethics." And the two of them have a hilarious discursive conversation while McRae soaks his tired feet in a creek. Scott joins him and picks up one of McRae's boots, which has a hole through the sole. The exchange is something like this. Scott: "I see you believe in ventilation." McRae: "Those boots were made by Raoul in San Antonio. Special order. I had a hell of a time persuading him to put that hole in there." Scott: "I remember Raoul. Good man. He believed that the boot should always cover the foot." Neither actor cracks a smile while this absurd conversation is taking place. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the story that is unfolding.
There is another distinctly non-lyrical interlude. The three men -- Scott, McRae, and Starr -- deliver Hartley to her boyfriend in the mining settlement of Coarse Gold. What follows is a perversion of everything that was so amusing about "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." Not only does Hartley almost get raped pronto by her boy friend, but his four brothers also expect to share his bounty, and at the wedding dance (in Kate's cathouse) they slaver over her and give her lengthy and disgusting smooches.
McRae and Scott manage to rescue her from the clutches of these libidinous maniacs and ride off with her, but they are followed by the five brothers and in the final shootout, McRae is mortally wounded and left to die. (In the last shot, as he dies, he rolls gently out of the frame and the camera does not follow him.) I think either I or the editor lost something because the first brother, who looks like an inbred geek, is referred to as dead before the shootout, but I don't recall his being dispatched.
At one point, Scott tells McRae: "You know what a poor man's clothes are? The ones on his back when they bury him. Is that all you want?" And McRae thinks for a moment and replies, "All I want is to enter my house justified." This is a pretty good Western from a new talent.