Shot in 1969 when Paul Newman and Robert Redford were at the peak of their box office success, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is one of those movies that has it all – swashbuckling stars (albeit in chaps while carrying guns), and a friendship like no other. Butch Cassidy, otherwise known as Robert LeRoy Parker (Paul Newman), and his buddy the Sundance Kid, aka Henry Alonzo Longabaugh (Robert Redford) join forces in a caper that shows director George Roy Hill’s mettle – worldwide, the picture made $102,311,848 with a mere $2,133 accounting for international box office, while the remainder covered domestic intake. Katherine Ross is Etta Place, Sundance’s girlfriend, accompanying the twosome in their increasingly daring heists. What they lack in immediate success at robbing banks, is foregone in favour of an all-consuming near-delusional level of enthusiasm. Even with overwhelming odds stacked against them, Butch and Sundance exist in a parallel world where they truly believe money is unlimited, it is theirs to steal using any means possible, and they will have no problems in obtaining it.
Butch Cassidy is the erstwhile head of the Hole in the Wall Gang, hatching schemes and possessing the wherewithal to carry them out. Sundance is a crack-shot, entering the fray when Cassidy gets into trouble. Sundance has some input but the thought-process behind each crime is always Butch. Perfectly matched, each against the other, both characters follow a delicate balancing act with neither occupying centre stage. Katherine Ross as Etta Place is almost like a third wheel – she is not immediately necessary to the plot except to initially provide an extra distinction to the triumvirate – the story unfolds more easily when there are three characters interacting.
Butch and Sundance have not associated with the gang for some time. Upon returning to the fold, Butch assumes he will regain his leadership role. However, in his absence, another member, Harvey Logan (Ted Cassidy) has inveigled his way onto centre stage. Butch and Logan fight over the role with Cassidy winning the bout. Butch must now prove himself as worthy of the position by finding suitable targets to successfully rob. Things start well but the pair soon find themselves at the receiving end of a posse who are relentless in their pursuit and devious in the actions they take to track them down. Butch and Sundance agree they should decamp and move abroad, considering Bolivia to be their best option. Bolivia has a multitude of merits – among them being an abundance of banking institutions who have never heard of either party.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid was among one of several action features shot in the late 60s and early 70s depicting lone wolves, albeit with hearts of gold, rough diamonds in the making, pitted against the world. Movies where the core narrative involved such characters, tended towards the underdog coming good. There was never any chance that audiences would root for the people on the side of law and order. They were always going to back the rule-breakers or men taking a stand against corruption, facing down nearly insurmountable obstacles. When reviewing events between 1961 to 1963, many Americans were forced to acknowledge a deeply depressing history of near-calamities - the Bay of Pigs fiasco in April 1961, was swiftly followed 18 months later by the Cuban Missile Crisis, with the assassination of John F. Kennedy in Dallas 1963 coming hot on its heels. Dr. Strangelove (Kubrick, 1964) fuelled the fire by poking fun at the likelihood of global war almost to the extent of ‘if you can’t beat them, you may as well join them’ but audiences wanted more. They needed to believe in a higher calling, heroes who, despite being flawed, owned up to their failings with honesty and courage. It brought a new sense of normalcy to a jittery populace – a feeling of being able to authentically enjoy a film without a sense of foreboding or impending doom. Movies such as Bullitt (Yates, 1969), Dirty Harry (Siegal, 1971) and The Detective (Douglas, 1969), while focussing on (mostly) law-abiding leads, nonetheless evolved to become psychological overviews of that grey area between written regulations and a moral code.
Applying legal decrees equally to every human being will always appear to be overly harsh yet it must be done so that existing states of affairs are sustained. This is the essential theme running through Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. If there are no wayward rule-breakers, audiences would be yawning in their seats. Through the turpitude of wrong-doing runs the thin red line of righteousness – those who err on the side of pushing boundaries between the two, pay the ultimate price. To not hold the reprobates to account undermines ultimate authority and signifies a catastrophic societal breakdown. Keeping the peace is a Sisyphean task at best but the alternative is chaos and destruction - at the end, there will always be a sacrifice because the status quo must be brought back in line.
Katherine Ross as Etta Place tries her best but beside the electric performances of Newman and Redford, her character just does not shine with quite the same brilliance. Feminist criticism from the 1960s scrutinises how women are portrayed in pictures – most enduringly, they are shown as meekly submissive and sexually objectified. They are either Madonna or whore, kin-keepers or alluring sexpots. There does not appear to be any middle ground. Yet, Etta Place is as essential a component as Butch and Sundance, however subjugated her role may be.
Male roles in movies around that time were raw, brooding and often filled with existential angst – if they challenged authority, it was with sardonic, wry humour, masquerading as inner scorn. Steve McQueen’s character in Bullitt is attuned to the corruption all around him and chooses to tackle it face on. ‘Dirty’ Harry Callahan (Clint Eastwood), Dirty Harry, goes a step beyond and treats criminals with merciless indifference. Joe Leland (Frank Sinatra), The Detective, endures great prejudice before he is taken seriously. All single characters played by the greatest of actors. When director George Hill assigned two superstars to the roles of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, it was a most perfect alignment. Instead of plumping for windswept and handsome versus wise-cracking funny guy, Hill got both. It meant the action remained effortlessly engaging while there were two charismatic actors to pick up the pace.
There is a sense of revisionism about Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid – the characters are portrayed as loveable rogues who were only defending themselves. Then there is the ‘good intentions’ killer, the shooter using a weapon of ultimate devastation because darn it, he has no other choice. While reality suggests that Butch and Sundance are most likely of a more violent and criminal bent, possessing no ‘good intentions’ at all, George Hill’s goal is to entertain and that he most certainly does. The ending is a cracker.
