Bloody Sam (Whether He Likes It Or Not): Peckinpah's Tumultuous World

Cross of Iron starring James Coburn

Gratuitously violent, misogynistic, tactless, fascistic and other such condemnable labels have constantly surrounded Peckinpah’s controversial body of work, stemming from the 1960s New Hollywood movement. However I chose Peckinpah in spite of all negative critiques because I not only believe that such critiques for the most part misinterpret his work, but also I believe he is one of the most intimate auteurs in cinematic history. His films reflect uniquely heavy, personal viewpoints through central themes, character interaction and film techniques in a way which isn’t readily perceivable in many other director’s filmographies. However, in light of his outlandish personal life, I believe a lot of it tends to be ignored.

Intimate might now be a word which connotes “Bloody” Sam, as his films tend to focus on dirty, tight-lipped men, who have a disdain for social regulation and whose lives innately revolve around violence. However, it is the way in which these characters react to their surroundings which reveals Peckinpah’s troubled emotional core.

His themes, which are notorious in his popular revisionist Western films, stretch across many genres. From Major Dundee (1965), a civil war Western, to Convoy (1978), a modern campy action-comedy, the plots revolve around a tight-knit brotherhood, which is somehow breached-either by betrayal from within the group, or invasion from an outside source. This breach can be depicted as a rift in friendship, such as Locken and Hansen in the Killer Elite (1975) or a rift in marriage such as David and Amy Sumner in Straw Dogs (1971). Or it can be portrayed as the intrusion of an enemy into the group, such as the aristocratic Capt. Stransky who attempts to control Cpl. Steiner’s platoon in Cross of Iron (1977), which is my personal favorite of his films.

These men live as outsiders, rebelling against the state of their current civilization. Often, as opposed to going through a significant character arc in the story (in this case conforming to the dissatisfactory world in which they live) they remain consistent in their stance and meet death at the hands of the corrupt society, which seeks to destroy them. They are often considered post-mythic heroes, who exist in the wrong time. Had they existed in previous eras, their lives would not be filled with discontent and ultimately end savagely. This creates a paradox of morality, as none of the protagonists are guilt-free, often being criminals and killers who have no alternative course of action because they refuse to submit to the way things are.

A dialogue from Pat Garret & Billy the Kid (1973), exchanged between Pat the sheriff and Billy the outlaw blatantly illustrates such a viewpoint. Pat says, “Times are changing.” Billy responds, “Times maybe, but not me.” Pat symbolizes the end of the lawless West which turns into the regulation and industry of the 20^th century. He is constantly torn between staying close to Billy, the young and free outlaw, and yet in the end becomes his killer. This is only one of many relationships between the main characters which teeter back and forth over the threat of betrayal, if not mutual destruction.

A secondary theme Peckinpah employs is the blurring of the line between innocence and corruption. Having witnessed first-hand the violence of a Chinese/Japanese conflict as a young man in the Marines, his bleak outlook is applied through the actions of supporting characters. The opening sequence of the Wild Bunch (1969) begins with a group of laughing children who, in search of amusement, put scorpions in an anthill and watch the ants attack. This sadistic act reflects a dismal perspective, which suggests even the young aren’t necessarily innocent and if they are, as is the young Russian POW in Cross of Iron, they are just as susceptible to destruction as everything else.

The combination of these harsh moral issues and themes comes together most elegantly in The Wild Bunch, which began Peckinpah’s reputation of being the master of on-screen carnage. His frequent use of bright, think paint-like blood was certainly a factor, however it was his revolutionary editing and photography techniques which emphasized the chaos of violence and struck audiences on a near-subconscious level.

His edits were accelerated and placed without a rhythm. He ignored all regards for literate elements of relative montage, by stringing together images of opposing composition, cutting in the middle of action arcs, and breaking any previous directional orientation. Above the rapid editing is his groundbreaking frame rate manipulation, which introduced slow-motion as a unique, surreal effect amidst the fray. By cutting away from a slow motion individual to a succession of individuals who move at regular speed, Peckinpah simultaneously brings attention to the multiple subjective moments of each character’s life, while showing how easily they can be destroyed.

In Cross of Iron’s first battle sequence, the Russians are making their first offensive on the German’s position and Peckinpah’s shots rapidly change. They jump from a close-up of a notable character, to handheld “guerilla war-film” style, focusing one moment on a difference, to carefully composed shots of slow-motion mortar explosion and to random faceless soldiers dying in trenches. In a random order, the scene repeats these shots and more in various speeds all layered with the audio of explosions, gunfire and screams. This lack of comprehensible shot succession leads to an overall sense of chaos and does all but glorify the violence on-screen, as it in fact leaves the audience with a sense of weariness.

Because much of his style revolved around violent films, he was given his nickname “Bloody Sam” but protested it, as it associated superfluous brutality. By depicting bloodshed in a disorienting and over-the-top cinematic style, his films mean to stand as messages of anti-violence, yet are continuously labeled as gratuitous and cheap appeals to the “ultra-masculine”. Since he developed these techniques, it has been seen in films of notable directors such as Tarantino and Martin Scorsese and others who choose to employ it fashionably instead of in a psychological light, hence adding to the mindset that his bloody work was indeed unjustified as well.

His quieter, less action-oriented films such as made for tv’s Noon Wine(1966)  and Junior Bonner (1972), are often overlooked in light of his loud controversial films and infamously unbearable personality. While still implementing his editing and photography styles, he dealt with tender character relationships and delivered simple, but successful comedic moments. For example a scene in which Cable Hogue can’t stop staring at a beautiful stranger, is edited with constant quick cuts back and forth between his face and her low-cut dress in the Ballad of Cable Hogue (1970).

Yet even these gentle, dramatic films always revolved around the protagonist who yearning to be free in a “declining” American culture. As the world slips further into structure, regulation and even population growth, the individual freedom is taken from his dominant screen archetype, the “Westerner” aka “wandering soul”. This leaves him with only one a decision between exodus or destruction. In a simple, modern day drama about a loner bull-rider, Junior Bonner, is one of the rare uplifting endings, where Junior achieves what he wants, but understands his need to leave and start his life again alone in the Outback, which remains the closest thing left to the landscape and lawlessness of the Old West frontier.

In my opinion, Sam Peckinpah is a truly great filmmaker for being capable of portraying the tumultuous aspects of bloodshed through his revolutionary use of editing and photography. However, what truly draws me are his stories in which protagonists tend to be immoral, distant and sometimes even sadistic, yet the audience can see the tragedy in their existence. The characters are treated still with a touch of humanity, as they are capable of intimate, especially fraternal, bonding, face heartbreak in betrayal and walk consciously into their impending defeat. Peckinpah’s films are some of the most affective and visceral, being a symbol of the inevitable downfall of those who are trapped in a brutal world.