I've talked about this film before, and I'm really bringing nothing new to the plate, but I just want to say "Pat Garret and Billy the Kid" is one of the coolest, strangest, darkest, and most bad ass westerns of all time. I'm not even a huge Bob Dylan fan, but his acting skates by with 8.0's and the soundtrack is incredible. But who really makes the film re-visitable and sharp as a Peckinpah gunshot is James Coburn. Anti-hero, womanizer, to the t villainous sheriff, drunk, die hard, nothing to lose, and perfect candidate to sum up the end of the wild west. He drinks, he dies, he gets his dick washed in a pan of suds by 4 different woman and then parties for an hour, goes down stairs and rides across the desert to meet destiny, being Billy's death.
Peckinpah was a genius. I don't think anyone doubts that, but I will state it again. A genius and one of the most influential Director's of all time.
By the way, I heard he pissed on MGM's Final Cut of the film, making him all that more true to the point. Don't fuck with outlaws, whether it be out in Ol' Mexico, or here in dying Hollywood.
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