"Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" turns 50

Photograph: 20th Century Fox

(by decorahnews.com's Ben Gardner):

When it was released in 1969, "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" made over $100 million, double the second and third highest films of that year: "Midnight Cowboy" ($44.8 million) and "Easy Rider" ($41.7 million). It's rare for the top-grossing film to double the revenue of its closest competition, and when it has happened, there are monolithic moneymakers attached to them: three "Star Wars" films, "Titanic," and Speilberg's "E.T." and "Jaws."

"The horse is dead!" bellows a salesmen early in the film, hocking a new invention: the bicycle. Much of "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" is about the advance of old forms into new innovations. The traditional Western, in 1969, was also dead, and "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," along with Sam Peckinpah's "The Wild Bunch" (also released in '69), were attempts at resurrecting a genre for a new, younger audience living through Vietnam and the Civil Rights era.

And it worked. The sun-dappled cinematography—combined with the charm and gravitas of leads Paul Newman and Robert Redford—made for an instant classic. It was a different kind of Western, more vulnerable, digressive, and romantic. The film's most memorable moments—the bicycle ride accompanied by the song "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head," the Sundance's confession, "Because I can't swim!" and the final moments of the film—are all scenes that linger with our main characters, showcasing their vulnerability and charm.

These are also scenes that showcase the gorgeous natural light cinematography of Conrad Hall. Hall would go on to become one of the most influential cinematographers, photographing "Cool Hand Luke," "American Beauty," and "Road to Perdition."

Butch and Sundance—compared to the model of Western machismo molded by John Wayne—are decidedly weak. They spend the bulk of the film running for their lives. Whereas previous lead actors in Westerns typically went to the extremes of masculine bravado (John Wayne) or stoicism (Gary Cooper), Redford and Newman brought a refreshing air of charm and vulnerability to their performances of outlaws. Redford has a soulful, quiet charm; there's something immediately endearing about his presence. Newman is the more overtly commanding presence of the pair, portraying Butch as a talkative dreamer and romantic.

Butch and Sundance spend most of the film running from bounty hunters hired by the Union Pacific Railroad to kill them. "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" is a story of old forms withering away. Butch and Sundance formerly made their living robbing trains and banks. The rapid technological innovations of the 19th century resulted in greater concentration of financial capital, and the film is, in part, about the consequences of capitalism on outlaws. Banks got bigger, trains did too, and the powerful moneymakers had more capital to dispose of outlaws.

Butch and Sundance are slow to recognize this change of circumstance, and when they do, it's a bittersweet recognition of their fragility. But it's their fragility and vulnerability that's made this odd couple endure for a half century.