Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia – A Peckinpah Classic

By Steve D. Stones

“There ain’t nothing sacred about a hole in the ground or the man that’s in it.” – Bennie (Warren Oates)

It’s unfortunate that director Sam Peckinpah’s 1974 film – Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia never found an audience at the time it was released, and did not impress most film critics. The film has aged well and developed more respect from viewers and film critics over the decades.

The film opens with a serene sequence of a young girl caressing her pregnant belly at the shore of a pond. She is brought before her father – El Jefe, who is a rich Mexican land baron. El Jefe demands to know who the father of the baby is. The girl is tortured and raped in front of her family as she reveals the name of Alfredo Garcia as the father. El Jefe literally puts a price on Garcia’s head by offering a million dollars to anyone who can bring his head.

Two hit men working for the head of an American business cartel are set on the trail of Garcia. They cross paths with Bennie - a washed up piano player working at a bar for drinks and tip money, played brilliantly by Warren Oates. Bennie tells the two hit men that he will keep an eye out for Garcia. He is offered a reward of ten thousand dollars for Garcia’s head. Bennie’s prostitute lover Elita, played by beautiful Isela Vega, informs him that Garcia was killed in a car accident.

Bennie sees Garcia’s death as an ace in the hole. He figures all he has to do is locate where Garcia is buried, decapitate his corpse at the grave, and bring the head to the two hit men that approached him at the bar. This task proves not to be so easy, as the viewer soon discovers.

As Bennie and Elita drive across the desolate Mexican landscape, they are followed by two more hit men. The two also want the head of Alfredo Garcia. Bennie locates the grave and attempts to decapitate Garcia’s head. He is hit in the head with a shovel and knocked out.

Several hours later, Bennie wakes up partially buried in Garcia’s grave with Elita at his side. The two hit men following Bennie have killed Elita and taken the head of Garcia. Bennie leaves Elita’s corpse in the grave, but cries for her passing.  Just before he leaves the grave, a close-up shot reveals Bennie putting his head back into the grave as the rest of his body is above ground. This shot is symbolic of Bennie losing his head emotionally, and alludes to his inevitable death.

Bennie soon encounters the two hit men changing a flat tire on a deserted road with the head of Garcia. Like many Peckinpah films, a gun battle occurs with slow motion sequences of the two hit men being shot as their bodies fly through the air in reaction to the impact of the bullet wounds. This is a stylistic trait that Peckinpah also employed in his 1968 western masterpiece – The Wild Bunch

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Bennie is able to retrieve Garcia’s head in a burlap sack from the two hit men he kills, but has to drive across miles of rough Mexican terrain to get it back to his place. He swats away dozens of flies from Garcia’s head while driving and drinking tequila. He talks to Garcia’s head as if he is still alive. “Here, have a drink Al!” he says as he pours tequila over the head, driving recklessly down the road.

Many sources state that Oates’ character of Bennie is based on director Peckinpah. Oates even dresses like Peckinpah in shades, a sport jacket and loafer shoes. His clothes and the bag carrying the head become more and more soiled as the film progresses. This makes the viewer less and less sympathetic to Bennie’s character.

At one point in the film, a bounty killer labels Bennie a loser. He responds to the man by saying “Nobody loses all the time.” That sentiment proves not to be true as the film draws to an end.

Bennie confronts El Jefe and wants to know why Garcia’s head is so important to him. He will not give an answer, but insists that Bennie take a briefcase of one million dollars and leave. Bennie is still mourning the loss of Elita, blaming El Jefe for his loss. He shoots El Jefe at the request of his grand-daughter and slaughters all the body guards in the room.

As Bennie plows through the gates of El Jefe’s compound, he is gunned down by more hit men. Bennie has indeed lost for the very last time. A close-up of a smoking machine gun barrel fills the screen.

Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia is a brilliant mix of black humor, violence, revenge and romance. Happy viewing!

Voodoo Man, Monogram's last Bela Lugosi production

By Doug Gibson

I really like 1944's Monogram film, "Voodoo Man," the last film Bela Lugosi starred in for Sam Katzman's Monogram/Banner film company. It was released, however, prior to the earlier Lugosi film, The Return of the Ape Man. I love all of the Monogram Lugosi films, the wild plots, the very low budgets, the dank lighting, the dreary non-horror leads, the typed-last-night dialogue. "Voodoo Man" for a long time was not seen as much as other Lugosi Monograms, and it took a while years ago to find and buy. However, with the Net generation, you can watch it above courtesy of YouTube. Still, I never see it on Turner Classic Movies or other television, even today. (Frankly, it's amazing how many films I once thought were virtually impossible to find, such as this and Rogues Tavern, are now easy to access via the web)

That's too bad, because it may be the best-paced, least convoluted Monogram film Lugosi made. It's ably directed by William Beaudine and looks like a lean, mean film-in-a-week film. (It was helmed in October of 1943). The plot involves Dr. Richard Marlowe, who kidnaps young lovelies in an attempt to transform their conscious life into his "dead" comatose wife, Evelyn (Ellen Hall). In typical Monogram nonsensical fashion, he lures his prey (and he has a home full of zombie-like beautiful women) with the help of a service station owner, George Zucco, who sends the girls to Lugosi via a roadblock. Lugosi, watching them on that newfangled thing called a television transmitter, sends an electrical ray that stops their cars. At that point, two moronic but relatively gentle henchmen, played by John Carradine and Frank Moran, kidnap the lovelies and take them to Dr. Marlowe's lair, where Zucco, a high priest to the God, Ramboona, attempts to transfer their lives to Marlowe's "dead" wife. Carradine's role is very bizarre; he has a large mop of hair brushed over his face to make him look dumb, and he plays some mean drums!

OK, you're wondering why I call this non-convoluted. My only defense is to recount the other Lugosi Monogram plots but I don't have 100 pages to do so. ... Back to the film, a Hollywood screenwriter, Ralph Dawson, off to marry his sweetheart, is sent by his studio boss (named SK, an inside Sam Katzman joke) to write a screenplay about the missing girls, which has, not surprisingly generated a lot of news.

The film, 62 minutes long, moves swiftly and carries the viewer's interest. It may be outlandish, but it's never dull. Lugosi is, actually, a his biographer Arthur Lennig notes, a sympathetic character, despite his kidnappings. He's endured 22 years of his wife's zombie-like state, and conveys his despair well. "Voodoo Man" has a dream cast, with Lugosi and Zucco together. It's a lot better than their other pairing, "Scared to Death." Carradine, as mentioned, is cast way out of type as one of the henchmen and has been criticized but I like his work in the film.He seems to be having fun and even manages to look creepy when he bangs the drums during the Ramboona God ceremonies. Moran, a former prizefighter, is good as his partner.

Monogram starlets Louise Currie and Wanda McKay are two of my favorites. Both are gorgeous and capable actresses who worked with Lugosi more than once. In fact, Katzman called Currie the low-budget Katharine Hepburn because of her striking beauty. In her films, I've noticed that her acting chops are a tad higher than other Monogram starlets. Unlike most Monogram.Banner romantic male leads, who tend to be stiffs, Michael Ames' Ralph Dawson has energy and personality on the screen. He later changed his screen name to Tod Andrews and guest starred on both and early late Andy Griffith Show episodes, Veteran actor Henry Hall is well cast as the amusing sheriff and has a fun time saying "Gosh All Fishhooks!" when the script calls for it.

But the best, and perhaps most famous line, is delivered by Ames' Dawson in the film's epilogue. Handing the script to the producer, he turns to movie company's president and suggests a casting choice: "Why don't you get Bela Lugosi. It's right up his alley!" That's a GREAT line in an average, enjoyable low-budget programmer.

Despite the flim clincher, it was Lugosi's last Monogram film role. Initially, things looked better for Bela in 1944. He was in a higher-budget horror spoof, "One Body Too Many," for Fine Arts Productions and then signed a three-picture deal with RKO that included "The Body Snatcher." But his film career would dry up in the latter 1940s, and he only made two films in that decade after the RKO deal. One, fortunately, was "Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein." Another was the strange, sometimes dull but at times surreal "Scared to Death," a color outing. As the decade progressed, most of his earnings would come barnstorming the country, on the stage in summer stock and other venues, usually performing as "Dracula" or as "Jonathan Brewster" in "Arsenic and Old Lace."

The Fall of Buster Keaton book traces comic legend's career in talkies

Review by Doug Gibson

In 1933, after former silent movie comic star Buster Keaton -- still an A talkie star -- had been canned by MGM for drunkeness, the trade papers announced that Keaton was heading to Florida, at a fat salary, to star in independent films. Keaton, it was reported, would have creative freedom (a luxury he did not have at MGM, despite the films' success.)

It sounded great, but it was too good to be true, as genre author James L. Neibaur recounts in "The Fall of Buster Keaton: His Films for MGM, Educational Pictures, and Columbia," 2010, Scarecrow (Buy). The independent project was underfunded, and the studio in Florida was fit for only two-reelers. Things collapsed and Keaton found himself unemployed long before a would-be film could even pass pre-production.

This anecdote is not important for the project's collapse, many a film star has seen a production close early. What makes the Florida effort interesting is that it was the last serious chance that Buster Keaton ever had to be a star of high-budget "A" films. Although Keaton would work for another 33 years, literally until his death, he would not star in a major film.

Keaton, who literally started vaudeville as a toddler, was discovered in part by Fatty Arbuckle and became a major silent comedian star. "The General," for example, is considered among the top two or three silent film comedy features. Keaton's stony facial expression hid an ingenuity and determination that surprised and pleased audiences when he achieved success, whether in love, money, or other goals.

But that history in the book is finished quickly. Neibaur is interested in explaining why Keaton, just two-decades plus later, was considered ideal to play himself as a has-been actor in the classic "Sunset Boulevard." At first, things looked promising for Keaton, as he signed -- in the waning days of silents, a star contract with MGM. Despite not having the final decisions, Keaton thrived with MGM silents, such as "The Cameraman," and "Spite Marriage," and even displayed talkie talent in MGM pre-code films, including "Doughboys," and "Speak Easily," in which he was paired with the loud, abrasive Jimmy Durante.

Nevertheless, Keaton melted down at MGM and, as mentioned, was canned after completing "What No Beer?" a so-bad-it-"improves"-on repeat-viewings movie. Durante is spectacularly unfunny, and Keaton is unfortunately drunk in many of the film's scenes. Keaton was AWOL during filming, had drunken rampages and MGM was glad to get rid of him. The film plays often on Turner Classic Movies, probably due to its time-capsule feel today as a glimpse at the last days of prohibition in the USA.

Neibaur recounts the various reasons that Keaton flamed out at MGM: A crumbling marriage to celebrity Natalie Talmadge, loss of creative control at MGM, a new acting persona that cast him as a buffoon rather than a determined underdog, and of course alcoholism. Being a drunk is what harmed Keaton's career. The rest are symptoms that drove him to the bottle, and unreliability.

One key strength of Neibaur's books is that there are in-depth recaps of the MGM, Educational and Columbia films Keaton made. A plus for readers is that Neibaur debunks a common perception that the Educational and Columbia shorts were all artistic failures. In fact, the author serves to rehabilitate Keaton's talkie shorts' image by extolling the virtues of short films such as "Allez Oop," "One-Run Elmer," "The Gold Ghost," "Jail Bait," (Educational) and "Pardon My Berth Marks," Pest From the West," "Nothing But Pleasure," (Columbia) and a few others. The author makes a convincing case that Keaton needs to be re-evaluated as a talkie comedy shorts talent..

To be fair, Keaton seemed to enjoy dissing his Educational and Columbia shorts over the last 20-plus years of his life. And during that era, comedy shorts commanded little respect in Hollywood. As Neibaur notes, one of the ironies of today is that the shorts of Keaton, and more notably The Three Stooges, are far better known than virtually all the features they played with. Nevertheless, it's true that one constant in both the Educational and Columbia shorts, as Neibaur notes, is that the quality of the series, after promising starts, dipped and a few duds found their way into production. It's hypothesized that Keaton's dissatisfaction with being in two-reel movie fillers may have dampened his initial enthusiasm after the contracts were signed

The Columbia era (late 1930s, early '40s) signified a consistent monetary comeback for Keaton. He would never earn cash similar to what he earned in his silents/MGM era, but after several years of being broke after his divorce, he added income with work as a gagman with the major studios and played featured parts and cameos in A and B productions. It as during this era that Keaton enjoyed a successful, until-death marriage with his wife Eleanor, and later benefited from the advent of television, something his colleagues Harry Langdon, Ben Turpin and Charley Chase did not live to enjoy. Some fans may recall Keaton's excellent guest role on a "Twilight Zone" episode that plays off his silent routines.

Besides TV and the occasional small role in a big film, Neibaur also devotes time to industrial films that Keaton made for executives and workers in companies. These were usually comedy couched in a film that dealt with training or promotion. As Keaton moved into his mid-60s, he received small, frankly demeaning roles, in the beach movies films, even playing an Indian. As Neibaur notes, it was money, and the chance to stay busy that motivated the senior citizen. Another film he had a cameo in was Stanley Kramer's "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World."

One reason I am very glad I read this book is that it sent me to YouTube to watch two films that Keaton completed only 15 or so months before his death in 1966 at age 70. The first is "The Railrodder," a silent color film, made by Canadian TV, that has Buster traveling across Canada via a track-speeder all the way to the Pacific Ocean. It may be the last comic silent short made and it's very funny, with Buster showing remarkable skills for a 68-69 year old man with "bronchitis."

The other film is a documentary on the making of "Railrodder," titled "Buster Keaton Rides Again." It's a treat for Keaton and genre fans as Buster's life on the set and production  is captured in detail, traveling across Canada, shooting the film, meeting fans, and most importantly, bantering with his wife, Eleanor, director Gerald Potterton, and the crew on the train in between scenes. He's a pleasant senior citizen,who smokes, talks, acts, interacts with fans and media, and thoroughly enjoys the attention he is receiving. He looks quite healthy at that time and he has the energy to argue with Potterton over how a shot should be done and win the argument. I absolutely love the scene where Buster explains the difference between a suspense shot and a comedy shot.

But getting back to Neibaur's detailed look at the final 35 years or so of Keaton's career. It's clear that the bad publicity from the MGM experience, although covered up well in the press, solidified Keaton's diminished status. The Educational years, although a steady paycheck, was also a time where Keaton was still heavily drinking, and that hurt comeback attempts. It's re-assuring that Keaton collected himself to stay busy, write gags for The Marx Brothers and others, get the drinking under control, get married, and continue acting. That was a triumph. Eventually, Keaton's "bronchitis" turned into cancer. But he worked virtually until his death at 70, dying a day or two after the cancer was diagnosed.

Genre books such as Neibaur's may have a tough time gathering circulation (they are very expensive) but if they can help to properly reassess Keaton's later comedies (Many of the Educationals are on YouTube and the Columbia series is inexpensively priced as a DVD) that is a enduring positive. We should appreciate the love that produces books of this dedicated scholarship.

Buster Keaton's last starring role -- Boom in the Moon

By Doug Gibson

I am reading James L. Neibaur's book "The Fall of Buster Keaton: His Films for MGM, Educational Pictures, and Columbia," (The Scarecrow Press, 2010) and I plan to review it soon. On page 177, he mentions Keaton's  role in an obscure Mexican comedy -- from 1946 -- called "El Moderno Barba Azul," or "Boom in the Moon." Neibaur says the film is best forgotten, and he's correct that it makes his low-budget comedy shorts seem like "The General" in comparison. However, I think it's worth a review; after all, it was Keaton's final starring role. So, here we go:

There's really no big reason to see Boom In the Moon ... unless you are a cult film fanatic. (And that's why we at Plan 9 Crunch are reviewing it) It's an  feature from 1946, made when Keaton was at the low point of his career (he later rebounded via TV and small roles and cameos in big-budget films). But in the mid-1940s, Buster Keaton was not working much.

But, first some background: In the 1920s, Keaton was among the kings of cinema comedy. But he had a drinking problem that became more acute when talkies came and he signed a multi-picture deal that included comedies with Jimmy Durante. To put it charitably, Durante's manic, often-unfunny rantings grated on Keaton's physical, stone-face comedy. Without any creative input, Keaton was portrayed as a buffoon and clown rather than an industrious underdog. During the making of their last film, "What No Beer?" Keaton was so drunk he trashed his dressing room and disappeared from the set for several days. After the film wrapped, MGM, his employer, canned Keaton.

After that, Keaton existed for almost 20 years in a grab-work-when-available world. His chief income was making comedy shorts for Educational Pictures and Columbia, as well as doing gag-man work for the bigger studios at $100 a week. Keaton's comedy shorts efforts were overshadowed by The Three Stooges and Little Rascals shorts.Also, Keaton felt the shorts were demeaning, as well. He had not starred in a film for a long time when he accepted the lead role in Boom in the Moon, or as it was known in Mexico, The Modern Bluebird ("El Moderno Barba Azul)

It is a very low budget, often strange movie starring Keaton and a bunch of mediocre Mexican actors. Buster plays a sailor in a lifeboat who drifts for weeks. He doesn't know that World War 2 is over and thinks he is in Japan when he lands in Mexico. He is immediately arrested and accused of being a killer of young girls. He's paired with another clownish prisoner (Angel Garasa). The pair are offered the choice of flying to the moon in a very goofy professor's rocket instead of execution. After a bunch of clowning they accept. Somehow the professor's very pretty niece (Virginia Seret) is in the rocket when it blasts off.

After a few days the rocket lands. The trio thinks they are on the moon, but they are really just a few miles from where they took off. The two convicts are cleared ... No more synopsis in case some readers want to watch the film. (It's hard to find. The best bet is to check amazon and ebay for used copies)

The first half is a little better than the last half because Keaton has the opportunity to use a lot of physical comedy, including a funny bit in his cell. The last half unfortunately allows too many actors to babble, including one Mexican actor -- playing a silly psychiatrist -- who will cause viewers to grind their teeth in pain at his performance. The rocket is so low budget that it would not have qualified for a C-movies serial in the 1930s. Still, Keaton occasionally, with his physical deadpan humor, comes off well in a few scenes. Ironically, Garasa, as Keaton's sidekick, is as nasal and annoying as Durante was with Keaton 15 years earlier.

Keaton has very little dialogue, and it's dubbed anyway in today's prints, although the others prattle on too much. Boom in the Moon could have been a lot better if it had been shot silent, and relied on Keaton's emotion and physical comedy. But that idea likely occurred to nobody in 1946.

The film was released theatrically in Mexico and played only in Spanish for 37 years, including U.S. TV on Spanish-speaking stations. It was briefly released via VHS with English dubbing in 1983. The release wasn't very long and the film has become a little hard to find. I'm glad I watched it -- I have wanted to for at least a decade. It was good to see Keaton starring in any feature in 1946. Despite the poverty-row film, Keaton still retained flashes of the great talent in the The General, The Camera Man, and Steamboat Bill Jr., etc.