A personal revenge, miles away from home that has nothing to do with supposed ideals !
Amos Dundee (Charlton Heston) is an outlaw officer of the Army of the United States who - after the bloody massacre by Apache Indians - decides - against all the odds - to search and annihilate the Apache leader no matter how he has to spent, travel or sweat. So he breaks the rules and gathers a singular battalion, composed by drifters, drunks, renegades, Confederate prisoners and even a horse stealer. His personal revenge in what concerns the endless desire of revenge maybe compared with Ahbab in Moby Dick. He won't rest until his personal mission has been over over.
Of course, this won't be the sole problem, he will have to raffle other obstacles to get what he proposes himself. He dislikes his men under his command and many of them criticizes him his personal ambition masked of military ambiance. Major Dundee` s progressive demolishing process as human being might be seen in two clever sequences, the first when he is hurt by an enemy arrow and then when he is caught in the act by his supposed illusion (the always beautiful Senta Berger) with a sudden affair with a Mexican India.
Sam Peckinpah built step by step a memorable masterpiece, without leaving any single hole in the script. Many of these personages and similar situations would be reflected four years later in "The wild bunch" . But he personal confrontation between Heston and Harris is perhaps the main dramatic support all the way through. As we know the violence in Peckinpah is peerless. Just a few directors in the history of cinema have been capable to describe and even pulsate the violence as organic expression or vital necessity of the human nature without falling in gore category. Perhaps the only flaw has been the hasty final after the bloody encounter in the river with French lancers leaves us with a bitter taste, and one leaves the hall with a firm sensation that something happened in the edition hall.
Another remarkable highpoint in the career of this singular filmmaker. Don't miss it!
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Birth of a Nation...
...would be an apt alternative title for this broken-backed mess of a masterpiece. The plot is simple -- in the closing months of the Civil War, Union officer Dundee, disgraced by un-named misconduct at Gettysburg, is now a gaoler presiding over Confederate prisoners at a fort in New Mexico. An Apache raid on some settlers leads him off on a punitive expedition into Mexico, which Dundee sees as a stab at redeeming his reputation. Short of troops, he impresses his Southern warders unwillingly into combat, and the expedition becomes an aimless Conradian-Vietnam foreshadowing quest into a foreign country riven by civil war (French soldiers oppressing Mexicans.)
All this is an umbrella thrown over the real story peckinpah is telling; the cavalry unit is a motley microcosm of an America being born: Yankees and Confederates, Mexicans and settlers, Irish immigrants,horse thieves, Indianzed white scouts, loyal native Americans, freed black slaves in uniform -- these are the troops Dundee leads, and they would just as soon kill one another as fight the Apache. Dundee is looking for a war, any war, and when the Indians prove foxily unwilling to fight, he'll go after the French. The layers of conflict are staggering -- we have the American Civil War, the Indian wars, the French colonial terrorizing of Mexico (with the Americans acting as unlikley liberators) and a fictitious American skirmish with France, foreshadowing our own entry onto the global stage as an empire post-civil war.
The film had a famously horrific production history, and despite restoration, is still marred not only by cuts, but scenes never filmed and a script not completed at shooting, resulting in frantic improvisation. Moreover, Peckinpah here attempted for the first time his celebrated slow-motion, multi-camera ballets of violence, all of which were axed and never recovered. The film's second act is as wayward as any i;ve ever seen, wherein Dundee flees his army for a drunken bender for what seems like an eternity of screen time: this sequence is fatally irrelevant, unless one sees it as a too-frank autobiographical admission by peckinpah of the demons that were slowly killing him, grafted onto the film. [Like Dundee, Peckinpah too had to be fetched from Mexican whorehouses and rivers of agave, an occupation he eventually abandoned film-making for....]
Yet for all that, this is a brave and fascinating epic of rare intelligence: Peckinpah set out to make Moby Dick on horseback, as the hero's obsessive lust for glory bonds his hetergenous gang into a nascent American killing machine, launching itself after foreign enemies to avoid turning on itself. Peckinpah's film-making skills did not yet match his ambitions; Major Dundee turns out to be a very costly rough draft for the film where he would get it right, The Wild Bunch (and spotting the scenes, characters, and performers that foreshadow that classic is a fun way to watch Dundee). But Major Dundee, warts and all, is a terrific viewing experience in its own right, and this lavish restoration, a true labor of love, is not to be missed by fans of Peckinpah, the Western, and great American art.
Incidentally, the much-maligned Charlton Heston gives a spell-binding, disciplined and thoroughly uningratiating performance here. Legend has it, Peckinpah, who directed by antagonizing, once goaded an enraged Heston into charging him on horseback, sabre drawn, with full intent to run Sam through. Peckinpah grinned, yelled "Cut!" and said, "Fabulous, Chuck, that was just what I wanted." All the same, when Columbia were on the verge of firing Peckinpah for filming scenes he had been ordered to cut from the script (at a cost of a $1.5 million overage in 1963 dollars), Heston returned his salary to keep Peckinpah on -- a favor he had done years earlier for Orson Welles on Touch of Evil under similar circumstances. So when people malign Heston -- like Michael Moore -- I think, well what did you do to save the art of cinema today, jerk?
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