The key to interpreting Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (1973, Sam Peckinpah) is the line of dialogue spoken by Garrett: “This country’s gettin’ old and I plan to grow old with it.” I mean duh. But what makes the film so compelling is how the Garrett character embodies, let’s say this mythical restructuring shift depiction of America growing up; and that in doing so, it seems he’s encumbered with the sole task of getting rid of the Kid; yet throughout the entire course of the narrative Garrett does everything he can to prolong its completion. Because Garrett’s got morals. And he knows once he goes through with it, he’ll lose that part of himself. But he goes through with it anyway. And it’s at that final decisive moment that he suddenly realizes he loses all of himself.
Garrett’s conflict is so profound because he thinks he’s doing what needs to be done according to the law. Although in Peckinpah’s film, the US government establishes a law that’s not about justice, but about the interests of power elites who’ve bought the control to protect their own interests—and of course there’s nothing subtle about Peckinpah’s coda crawl he wants to link this corruption to the present. And in the legend this elegy mourns, it’s of course that much more emotional with the added father-son dynamic Peckinpah imbues it with.
Garrett’s stubborn willful ignorance or denial about the whole thing is his fatal flaw. When he’s in Lemuel’s (Chill Wills) saloon, we see this emphasized when the proprietor confronts Garrett with this painful truth, to which an angered Garrett defensively berates Lemuel because his “eyes ain’t seen nothin’ but the bad side of news since he been in this territory,” then goes on to literally pull the wool over Lemuel’s eyes. Was this darker side of Garrett always there, or did it emerge out of necessity? And by Garrett I mean American justice. Recall the vitriol in Garrett’s spite over the capitalist motivated politicians and power wielding business men like Gov Wallace and Chisum early on.
But James Coburn as Garrett is the best part of the movie. His moral deterioration and cool detached bitter condescension above everyone else is handled perfectly through the performance. And his blackhat costumes throughout with that cigar clenched in his jaws, as stylish as they are, and as much as they fit a stock villain, can’t make us feel like he’s the real bad guy here. Or is he? It’s metaphorical.
And what about Billy the Kid? In contrast to Garrett, every scene the Kid’s in he’s only ever either fucking or killing by the end of it. But in all of the Kid’s scenes, we see him smile. Billy only kills to live. Pat only kills to enforce the law. The irony is that the only time we feel a sense of justice, like they had it coming, is when Billy murders someone.
Notice how every time Billy sleeps with a Mexican woman, it’s sweet and tender. But once Garrett puts on the badge he treats his wife like shit. And while in the scene where Garret has sex with every prostitute in the house in that montage, although equally sweet and tender, he will later lock all six of them in that same room and then throw them in jail. These moral ambiguities allow for a more nuanced comparison. Also, when the Kid tells that dude he’s trading his brown horse for the buckskin, in that quick scene, the disappointment conveyed here really hits home that the Kid isn’t always all good.
I’d always felt like the Kid has a reluctance proportionate to Garrett’s. But he doesn’t. How could I have missed that for so long? The Kid is often nudged towards goin’ off to Mexico if he doesn’t want to die by staying in the US. But after the murder of Paco, the Kid vows to go after Chisum. There’s no way that can be taken as a realistic endeavor. But I’m also not sure it’s as overt as a deathdrive. Maybe the clue lies in the Kid’s outstretched Christ sacrifice arms pose he enacts both times Garrett catches him.
Recently I’ve been asking myself what movies really stay with me after they’re over. And that’s when I came across rediscovering Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid. After watching it 4 or 5 times in the past few weeks, I’d realized that as a whole it really makes me feel that it has this tone of overwhelming inevitable loss. And I can’t get enough of it. Every death is significant.
How could the Slim Pickens death not move you? (I only watch Peckinpah’s final preview cut, and I like seeing that scene without Bob Dylan’s “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door,” which isn’t to say I don’t think that it’s a great song.) Recently I’ve also been wondering if I tend to process movies more rationally than emotionally. So the death scene of the character played by Elisha Cook, Jr has stuck with me more and more because of the words from his soliloquy: “I’m tired. Tired of looking for yellow rocks. Tired of trying not to look at your ugly face. Tired of seein’ the land get crowded. Tired of bein’ snake-bitten, sunstruck, waiting to be killed.” Such gloom.
Finally, it’s PETE MAXWELL who ultimately really depression knocks me down. Pete seems to be this symbol of tradition. When Billy shows up at Pete’s place, the way Pete instantly goes into nostalgia storytelling mode, while Billy and the lady he’s with walk out on him still talking is poignant; even more so in that Pat sneaks in, and is also known by Pete, and that Pat takes advantage of that to sit and wait for the Kid to walk in and gun him down. That bond. It’s like it links them. Because they both know Pete = they both value enjoying life/enjoying the company of a good friend/a good conversation/enjoying the moment. Until it’s gone.
Garrett’s conflict is so profound because he thinks he’s doing what needs to be done according to the law. Although in Peckinpah’s film, the US government establishes a law that’s not about justice, but about the interests of power elites who’ve bought the control to protect their own interests—and of course there’s nothing subtle about Peckinpah’s coda crawl he wants to link this corruption to the present. And in the legend this elegy mourns, it’s of course that much more emotional with the added father-son dynamic Peckinpah imbues it with.
Garrett’s stubborn willful ignorance or denial about the whole thing is his fatal flaw. When he’s in Lemuel’s (Chill Wills) saloon, we see this emphasized when the proprietor confronts Garrett with this painful truth, to which an angered Garrett defensively berates Lemuel because his “eyes ain’t seen nothin’ but the bad side of news since he been in this territory,” then goes on to literally pull the wool over Lemuel’s eyes. Was this darker side of Garrett always there, or did it emerge out of necessity? And by Garrett I mean American justice. Recall the vitriol in Garrett’s spite over the capitalist motivated politicians and power wielding business men like Gov Wallace and Chisum early on.
But James Coburn as Garrett is the best part of the movie. His moral deterioration and cool detached bitter condescension above everyone else is handled perfectly through the performance. And his blackhat costumes throughout with that cigar clenched in his jaws, as stylish as they are, and as much as they fit a stock villain, can’t make us feel like he’s the real bad guy here. Or is he? It’s metaphorical.
And what about Billy the Kid? In contrast to Garrett, every scene the Kid’s in he’s only ever either fucking or killing by the end of it. But in all of the Kid’s scenes, we see him smile. Billy only kills to live. Pat only kills to enforce the law. The irony is that the only time we feel a sense of justice, like they had it coming, is when Billy murders someone.
Notice how every time Billy sleeps with a Mexican woman, it’s sweet and tender. But once Garrett puts on the badge he treats his wife like shit. And while in the scene where Garret has sex with every prostitute in the house in that montage, although equally sweet and tender, he will later lock all six of them in that same room and then throw them in jail. These moral ambiguities allow for a more nuanced comparison. Also, when the Kid tells that dude he’s trading his brown horse for the buckskin, in that quick scene, the disappointment conveyed here really hits home that the Kid isn’t always all good.
I’d always felt like the Kid has a reluctance proportionate to Garrett’s. But he doesn’t. How could I have missed that for so long? The Kid is often nudged towards goin’ off to Mexico if he doesn’t want to die by staying in the US. But after the murder of Paco, the Kid vows to go after Chisum. There’s no way that can be taken as a realistic endeavor. But I’m also not sure it’s as overt as a deathdrive. Maybe the clue lies in the Kid’s outstretched Christ sacrifice arms pose he enacts both times Garrett catches him.
Recently I’ve been asking myself what movies really stay with me after they’re over. And that’s when I came across rediscovering Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid. After watching it 4 or 5 times in the past few weeks, I’d realized that as a whole it really makes me feel that it has this tone of overwhelming inevitable loss. And I can’t get enough of it. Every death is significant.
How could the Slim Pickens death not move you? (I only watch Peckinpah’s final preview cut, and I like seeing that scene without Bob Dylan’s “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door,” which isn’t to say I don’t think that it’s a great song.) Recently I’ve also been wondering if I tend to process movies more rationally than emotionally. So the death scene of the character played by Elisha Cook, Jr has stuck with me more and more because of the words from his soliloquy: “I’m tired. Tired of looking for yellow rocks. Tired of trying not to look at your ugly face. Tired of seein’ the land get crowded. Tired of bein’ snake-bitten, sunstruck, waiting to be killed.” Such gloom.
Finally, it’s PETE MAXWELL who ultimately really depression knocks me down. Pete seems to be this symbol of tradition. When Billy shows up at Pete’s place, the way Pete instantly goes into nostalgia storytelling mode, while Billy and the lady he’s with walk out on him still talking is poignant; even more so in that Pat sneaks in, and is also known by Pete, and that Pat takes advantage of that to sit and wait for the Kid to walk in and gun him down. That bond. It’s like it links them. Because they both know Pete = they both value enjoying life/enjoying the company of a good friend/a good conversation/enjoying the moment. Until it’s gone.
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