An LS.n reader has been riding me that in my past two reviews of Sam Peckinpah films, The Wild Bunch, and Straw Dogs, I didn't once say anything about "blood ballets." See, my determination in reviewing Peckinpah was to avoid the requisite comments about how Peckinpah innovated this style of balletic or operatic violence, and how he influenced Hong Kong film makers like John Woo, and thus American New Independents like Quentin Tarantino. But I got endless grief for this elision. Readers want me to talk about "blood ballets." So fuck it. Here goes:
The thing I like most about Peckinpah's Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia is all the blood ballets. You know, Peckinpah innovated a style of operatic violence that, if I may make a daring observation that should turn the heads of cinema historians, directly influenced Hong Kong directors such as John Woo, and thus American Independents like Quentin Tarantino. Yup, no question about it: I dig those blood ballets.
There, got that over with. Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia tells the story of a lounge musician in Mexico by the name of Bennie (Warren Oates). When a couple of assassins enter his bar looking for an indiscreet Lothario by the name of Alfredo Garcia, Bennie does a little poking around, and discovers the Alfredo has died in a car accident. It seems that the men will give Bennie $10,000 to recover Alfredo's head, so Bennie does what any reasonable man would do in this situation: he goes out and buys a machete, and hits the road with his prostitute girlfriend to exhume Alfredo's corpse.
What follows is more than just a movie, it's a design for macho living. Here are the lessons that Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia has to teach us: On coolness: coolness is the most important thing there is. Wear shades--even in bed, if need be. On philosophy: an existential attitude is a must. Say something like "sixteen men have died over this head!" then whip out your gun and blow away five more. On parenting: if your daughter won't tell you who her boyfriend is, rip her clothes off. If she still won't tell you, break her arm. On the opposite sex: if a woman won't leave you alone, give her a good hard pop in the jaw--she'll shut up, and may fall on the floor, too.
Come to think of it, Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia has some lessons for the fairer sex, also. To wit: if a man tries to rape you, slap him. If he subsequently loses interest, why you just show him a little TLC to get that interest back, missy!
As you can see, Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia isn't exactly the most liberal, politically correct film out there, but as an example of the "if your bitch bites you, bite her back then pour tequila on the wound" school of storytelling, it's aces baby. Aces.
Name: Kerry Douglas Dye Responds Subject: Re: Alfredo Garcia -- Feb 18, 2005 at 9:41AM > The review seems > utterly pointless.
Whereas your yak overflows with significance.
Care to enlighten us as to what I should have said about the movie to make my critique resonante throughout eternity?
Name: Dan Subject: Alfredo Garcia -- Feb 18, 2005 at 7:56AM Do you aim to miss the point in your review? If so, you're dead on accurate. The misogynistic element is (sadly) there but that's Peckinpah's personality. Whether we approve or not at least he has the guts to put himself into his films.
I'm no big Peckinpah fan but the film is so much more than you say. The review seems utterly pointless.
Name: doug Subject: alfredo garcia -- Oct 27, 2002 at 7:06PM sam was pretty depressed by this stage in his career but i still think it's brilliant-warren oates and gig young in particular were amazing
