“If they move”, hisses stern-eyed William Holden, “kill ’em”. So begins The Wild Bunch (1969), Sam Peckinpah’s bloody, high-body-count eulogy to the mythologized Old West. “Pouring new wine into the bottle of the Western, Peckinpah explodes the bottle”, observed critic Pauline Kael. That exploding bottle also christened the director with the nickname that would forever define his films and reputation: “Bloody Sam”.
David Samuel Peckinpah was born and grew up in Fresno, California, when it was still a sleepy town. Young Sam was a loner. The child’s greatest influence was grandfather Denver Church Peckinpah, a judge, congressman and one of the best shots in the Sierra Nevadas. Sam served in the Marine Corps during World War II but – to his disappointment – did not see combat. He married Marie Selland in Las Vegas in 1947 and enrolled as a theater graduate student at the University of Southern California the next year.
After drifting through several jobs—including a stint… read more
“If they move”, hisses stern-eyed William Holden, “kill ’em”. So begins The Wild Bunch (1969), Sam Peckinpah’s bloody, high-body-count eulogy to the mythologized Old West. “Pouring new wine into the bottle of the Western, Peckinpah explodes the bottle”, observed critic Pauline Kael. That exploding bottle also christened the director with the nickname that would forever define his films and reputation: “Bloody Sam”.
David Samuel Peckinpah was born and grew up in Fresno, California, when it was still a sleepy town. Young Sam was a loner. The child’s greatest influence was grandfather Denver Church Peckinpah, a judge, congressman and one of the best shots in the Sierra Nevadas. Sam served in the Marine Corps during World War II but – to his disappointment – did not see combat. He married Marie Selland in Las Vegas in 1947 and enrolled as a theater graduate student at the University of Southern California the next year.
After drifting through several jobs—including a stint as a floor-sweeper on “The Liberace Show” (1952)—he got a gofer job with director Don Siegel (Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956)—in which Sam had a small part), who took a shine to him and used him on several of his pictures. Peckinpah eventually became a scriptwriter for such TV programs as “Gunsmoke” (1955) and “The Rifleman” (1958) and was the creator of the critically acclaimed western series “The Westerner” (1960).
In 1961 he directed his first film, the nondescript western The Deadly Companions (1961). The next year things got better, however. His four-star Ride the High Country (1962) featured the final screen appearance of Randolph Scott, with an aging-gunfighter storyline that anticipated The Wild Bunch (1969). Then came major problems with Major Dundee (1965), the film that brought to light his volatile reputation. During hot, on-location work in Mexico, Peckinpah’s abrasive manner, exacerbated by booze and marijuana, provoked usually even-keeled Charlton Heston to threaten to run him through with a cavalry saber. Post-production conflicts led to a bitter and ultimately losing battle with the film’s producer, Jerry Bresler, and Columbia Pictures over the final cut and, as a result, the disjointed effort fizzled at the box office. This contributed to Peckinpah’s losing out the job of directing The Cincinnati Kid (1965) with Steve McQueen to Norman Jewison.
His second marriage now failing, Peckinpah did not begin his next project for two years, but it was the one for which he will always be remembered. The success of The Wild Bunch (1969) rejuvenated his career and propelled him through highs and lows in the 1970s. He would provoke more rancor over violence with Straw Dogs (1971), introduced Ali MacGraw to Steve McQueen in The Getaway (1972), oversee a muttering Bob Dylan in Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (1973) and direct from good (The Ballad of Cable Hogue (1970)) to bad (Convoy (1978)) to worse (Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia (1974)). His last solid effort was the Eastern Front WW II anti-epic Cross of Iron (1977) (Maximilian Schell, James Coburn), bringing the picture in successfully despite severe financial problems,
Peckinpah lived life to its fullest. He drank hard and abused drugs, producers and collaborators. Being considered for the Stephen King-scripted “The Shotgunners”, he died from heart failure in Mexico at age 59. At a gathering afterwards, Coburn remembered the director as a man “who pushed me over the abyss and then jumped in after me. He took me on some great adventures”. —IMDb
