Film Review: Peckinpah's 'Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid' (1973)

This Peckinpah film features a lot of shooting and killing, which ultimately, all seems kind of pointless.; it also showcases a great performance by James Coburn.

Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (1973), directed by Sam Peckinpah from a script by Rudy Wurlitzer; starring James Coburn, Kris Kristofferson, Jason Robards, Richard Beck, and Jack Elam.

This film is a continuation of themes from Peckinpah’s earlier masterpiece, The Wild Bunch (1969). The main theme being that while the American Old West was a dirty, nasty, violent, and disease-ridden place, the fact that it died was very, very sad.

Pat Garrett features a famous soundtrack written by Bob Dylan (who has a small role in the film) and probably the largest and best cast of redoubtable Western character actors ever assembled: Jack Elam, Matt Clark, L.Q. Jones, Chill Wills, Slim Pickens, Richard Jaeckel, and Katy Jurado. Plus, it also features numerous ubiquitous character actors who played across all genres, such as R. G. Armstrong, Harry Dean Stanton, and Elisha Cook, Jr.

The large cast is part of the problem, unfortunately. These famous faces--which have starred in so many of the best Westerns ever made--are trotted out by Peckinpah, given a few words to say, then disappear. It’s hard to keep track of them or how they impact the story.

Coburn stars as Pat Garrett, who lives in territorial New Mexico in the early 1880s. As portrayed by Coburn (and Peckinpah), he's a hard man, an ex-outlaw who smells change in the air as civilization encroaches on the West. He doesn’t want to be left behind, so he joins the other side, and accepts a job as a sheriff. The forces of civilization --represented by banks and railroads--offer Garett big money to hunt down his old friend, Billy the Kid (Kris Kristofferson in his first leading role). He does and Billy is sent to jail, but escapes after killing two lawmen (played by Clark and Armstrong.)

Then we follow Coburn and Billy separately as pursuer and pursued, until they finally meet up — bloodily— at the end. Although we are told repeatedly that Garrett and Billy were once the closest of friends, we don’t see any flashbacks that show the development of their relationship. Ultimately, viewers just don't care.

Coburn turns in his usual excellent job, but Kristofferson—looking bloated in the face and skinny-fat in his physique— is another matter. (At the time, he was in the full throes of his epic alcoholic days and was drinking a fifth and a half of whiskey per day.) He isn’t terrible--it was only his third film and he was learning his craft—but he’s simply no competition for the dominating performance turned in by the old pro, Coburn.

Nihlism is Fun and Cool.

Partly, the fault lies in how the Billy the Kid character is written and directed. He's a nilhist with no redeeming qualities, no past, no family, and no reason for us to care about him at all; the only positive relationship he really has is with a Mexican girl named Maria (played by Kristofferson's real-life wife at the time, Rita Coolidge). But even then, this relationship is not developed, and viewers get the distinct impression that Billy would kill Maria, too, if she got in the way.

He's given the opportunity by Garrett to leave the territory and live, but he doesn't take it, because he's a Rebel with a capital "R." This kind of attitude was all-too-common in films from the late 70s-early 60s time period.

Despite the unattractive nihlism of his character, Peckinpah continually tries to push Billy at the viewer as a lovable anti-hero we all have to admire...for what? Because he’s "cool," that's why. It's that type of 70s coolness that needs no other justification. Which gets to be very tedious, as this movie drags on.

And drag it does. Clocking in at just over two hours, it feels like three. I watched it back-to-back with a rewatch of Alan J. Pakula's Sophie’s Choice, which is thirty minutes longer. Sophie’s Choice sailed along and felt like the shorter film.

There are numerous repetitive scenes of either Garett or the Kid riding out, encountering one or more famous Western actor, then blasting away. The cinematography provided by John Coquillon is flat, colorless and gritty--obviously intended—but it doesn’t give much relief from the tedium of the overall film. (Coquillon shot four films for Peckinpah, including Straw Dogs (1971).)

The 122 minute version I streamed is not the theatrical version that I saw as a kid in 1973. That version contained major chops demanded by the studio. Without having the ability to make a side-by-side comparison, I suspect the studio’s instincts were correct in wanting it chopped. There’s way too much dead air in this film.

The theatrical version was not a hit in 1973. It got mediocre reviews, which diminished Peckinpah's legendary reputation. For years, it was one of those movies that are more famous for their soundtracks than for the merits of the actual film.

That changed in the VHS era, when the longer version was released on video and film fans and critics began to reconsider it's stature. Almost a half-century later, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid is now considered one of Peckinpah’s best films. There is also a 116-minute version floating around, which was also assembled during the VHS era, that I’d like to see. This version is supposedly the closest to Peckinpah’s original cut.

When I was 13, I thought that Pat Garrett's nihlism was "cool". Now that I’m grown up, and can see how 70s nihlism contributed to the sick and violent society I see all around me, it holds no charms for me at all. On disc and Amazon.