From the beginning of film, music has been involved in its presentation. In the early 20th century, live music was used to indicate certain narrative and emotional cues for silent moving pictures. If the animated actor sensed danger, the music would speed up and if that same actor fell in love with the heroine, a ballad could be heard throughout the theater. A good soundtrack is inexorably attached to a movie and will, for good or bad, remind you of that film, just as the images are now married to your favourite songs. What is becoming a regular feature on the blog, we look at great films through their soundtracks – find the rest here.
Knockin' on Kristoffersons door
Billy: Ol’ Pat… Sheriff Pat Garrett. Sold out to the Santa Fe ring. How does it feel?
Garrett: It feels like… times have changed.
Billy: Times, maybe. Not me.
Bob Dylan survived a near-fatal motorcycle crash in 1965, but his artistic persona of the day did not. The drug-fueled wild-haired rock poet who could churn out a million songs a minute was gone forever. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, for if he had continued along that course, he probably wouldn’t have survived to the present. Instead, he calmed down a little, and for the next decade took a kind of whimsical, laid-back approach to his music. There’s some really interesting material from this period – anyone not familiarized with Self Portrait or New Morning should grab it yesterday – but the most unexpected project he undertook was a collaboration with famed director Sam Peckinpah on Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid.
How's Jesus look to you now, Bob?
One of the finest westerns ever made (especially the director’s cut), it tells the story of Pat Garrett (Kris Kristofferson), erstwhile travelling companion of the outlaw Billy the Kid (James Coburn) who has become a sheriff, tasked by cattle interests with ridding the territory of Billy. After Billy escapes, Pat assembles a posse and chases him through the territory, culminating in a final confrontation at Fort Sumner, but is unaware of the full scope of the cattle interests’ plans for the New West. The powers that be want Billy out of New Mexico, not for ethical reasons, but rather so that things can be neatly protected for the approaching business exploitation. “Billy, they don’t like you to be so free!” proclaims Bob Dylan’s theme song, summing up why the power men find Billy so irritating – his refusal to compromise and his declaration of his own personal independence.
Director Peckinpah uses two regular themes in most of his work, the death of the West, and men living past their time and deciding whether or not to accept change. The cinematography is beautiful and haunting at the same time and matches the mood and characterization in the film. Pat Garret knew he had a job to do, but just could not handle the fact it was a friend he had to kill. The myth and actual facts of the last days of Billy the Kid play out the doomed friendship between the title characters – but the film is really about the death of an American way of life. The best and saddest moments in the film involve characters who know they are going to die and accept it. Using Bob Dylan’s score could have been intrusive to this subtle film, and made it feel tacky in a trying-to-be-hip kind of way. Instead the score works well and gives the film a soulful feel. It’s testament to the director’s skill that he chose to make a work about the end of the myth of “Billy the Kid” instead of glorifying it further. Neither Garrett nor the Kid are very admirable in this film, they feel distant because there is no moral centre to the film – as there was little or none to real 19th century West – an empty space, scenery and some misfits of various backgrounds trying to make a living in an inhospitable domain.
Hell, that was a year ago. I shot him straight up.
Dylan composed the score for the film, but it doesn’t sound quite like anything else in his catalogue. There is, of course, the signature acoustic guitar and harmonica, but the tracks (most of which are instrumental) have a windswept south-of-the-border feel. When you hear the Spanish guitar picking and the leisurely congo drums, you feel almost as if you’re wandering through prickly pear thickets in Sonora. The score is defined by the iconic “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”, which is one of the songwriter’s finest works. His version (which remains the definitive interpretation) is bare and sorrowful; in the film, it accompanies a scene in which an old outlaw watches the sun set while dying from a gunshot wound. Dylan recorded the final version of Knockin’ On Heavens Door at a session on Warner Bros. Records soundstage in Burbank, California. “It was very early in the morning,” recalls drummer Jim Keltner. “I think the session was 10 a.m There weren’t any overdubs on that, the singers were singing live, little pump organ and guitars. This was for a particular scene in the movie when Slim Pickens is dying and that’s the first time I ever cried while I played. It was the combination of the words, Bob’s voice, the actual music itself, the changes, and seeing the screen. In those days you were on a big soundstage, and you had this massive screen that you can see on the wall, with the scene running when you’re playing. I cried through that whole take.”
As an extra incentive, Dylan also acted in the film, playing the role of a knife-throwing outlaw. His character plays an important part, representing the storyteller that passes down the legend of this story to all generations. If you’ve ever wanted to see Bob Dylan slay someone with a knife, now’s your chance. If you’re planning to watch it, go for the full 122 minute director’s cut, which is immeasurably superior. Download the soundtrack here.
Download – Bob Dylan – Pat Garrett & Billy The Kid Official Soundtrack
