The Wild Bunch (1969)

I picked up The Wild Bunch on DVD merely because it stared William Holden, who I knew primarily from Sabrina and Sunset Boulevard. Wow. Was I in for a shock! Violent, depressing and faintly reprehensible, I did not understand what to make of it.

The first time I watched it, I went outside for a smoke afterwards, and almost bawled.

The second time I watched it, I laughed straight through.

Now, I get a good mixture, and I am always pleased and energized by what I see. (Even right now, after hours and hours of blogging, all traces of tiredness is gone – you can tell why I chose to watch it so late in my blogathon!)

In all honesty, there are a few films in this world that we, if we travel around the celluloid universe enough, may be privileged to know on intimate basis. These films, the special ones, are not like anything else, ever. Films are like people – come of them defy all comparisons. For me, The Wild Bunch is one of these pieces.

It is both violent and anti-violence. It is both over-the-top and realistic. It is both vulgar and poetic. It is the crassest of entertainment, and the finest of art.

And as for Bill, The Wild Bunch gave me something special. It showed me a William Holden who, like Pike, was bowed but not broken. He holds a health and a vigour here that seemed gone from him in the 60s. The Wild Bunch marks the end of Holden’s second dry spell (the first being just after WWII) and the beginning of his new phase: As distinguished elder statesman of Hollywood cinema.

All this and more, The Wild Bunch gave to me. I cannot recommend it highly enough. You may not love it, or even like it, but you’ll probably never forget it.

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