Review of Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (1973) by Motek S — 07 Jun 2007

As shocking as it may seem, I haven't always been as well-adjusted as I am today. In fact, I used to be a melancholy little solipsistic f**k -- indulgently melancholy. And this film, my friends, is the Alpha and Omega of indulgent melancholy.

Pat Garrett, hunting Billy the Kid, is melancholy. Billy the Kid, loafing and shooting his way across the untamed New Mexico wilderness, is melancholy. Bob Dylan, as "Alias (Anything You Please)", is ridiculously opaque but also melancholy. Harry Dean Stanton is melancholy cuz Billy banged his girlfriend. Bill Kermit is melancholy, and so is Chill Wills -- both of these guys get shot in particularly melancholy ways. "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", a particularly melancholy lil' ditty, is what you hear as Chill Wills dies a meaningless, unnecessary and oh-so-melancholy death. Hell, even the cavorting hookers in this flick are melancholy. It's wall-to-wall.

Which all goes to prove: it doesn't matter what you have to say, so long as you can say it in a stylishly melancholy way. (CAVEAT: Of course, this idea only applies if your aim is to make a movie that almost no one ends up watching. Otherwise, you might want to inject a little of the old hoo-ha now and then).