Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia

Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia ★★★★

It starts with a shot that's almost a Renaissance painting: a woman at a river, light streaming through trees, dipping her feet into the water to soothe them. That's about the last thing about this movie that's beautiful. From there on in, it's a slow descent into Warren Oates' self-loathing and regret.

You can feel the grease coming off the screen, and most of it is coming from Americans. I liked that. Kris Kristofferson supplied a remarkable amount of it during his brief scene; Peckinpah was perhaps in a better position to critique the dream of dropping out than most. Good counterpoint to Hunter S. Thompson's essentially romantic view of bikers.

It's a movie about men. The two women in this have plenty to do, and I admire both of their performances, but they're the people who things happen to. The one exception, at the very end, is interesting. I think that's the only choice either of them get to make, and it's still just telling a man what to do.

Definitely one of those movies where it's clearly the director's vision, unfiltered and unrestrained.

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