BAD COMPANY
When I first saw Robert Benton's Bad Company way back in 1972, I was simultaneously mesmerized and offended. I was mesmerized by the story of a group of young males on the lam from Civil War-era conscription and by the sawed-off shimmer of Jeff Bridges' character Jake. What offended me then was the casual aspect of the barbarism as, for instance, when the group of young men and boys shoots a wild rabbit for food or when they slaver for a taste of poontang. Of course, I was quite young at the time and I suppose I was easily abused. These days the fight scenes and casual criminality wouldn't startle a five-year-old and I'm actually a little embarrassed by the prudish aspects of my own earlier response.
What has not changed is the open-eyed wonder of Bridges' acting, especially as it plays off against his foil, Drew, played by the underrated Barry Brown. One of the things that can draw in an audience to choose to identify with a less-than-heroic screen character is for the actor to reveal the rapid transition of the character's thoughts and feelings. Bridges own youthfulness in this regard is an asset. He doesn't mug for the camera and makes no effort to sweeten the performance or the role. His influence over the character of Drew, our narrator, builds with a clumsy determination until it explodes with the last three words of the film, words that stayed in my memory since that evening forty years earlier.
I have read that some people think Bad Company is a western. This fallacious conclusion is no doubt reached because the story takes place in 1863, because the characters are heading west, and because some of the young actors in the film are familiar from actual westerns of the period. But this motion picture is almost disparaged by that label. It's more of an old-style morality play, with the Civil War as metaphor for Vietnam and the deluge of racism and profanity nothing more than simple victors in a fight for survival.
The movie merits a cultural footnote for serving as the inspiration for the name of the rock group lead by Paul Rodgers.
What has not changed is the open-eyed wonder of Bridges' acting, especially as it plays off against his foil, Drew, played by the underrated Barry Brown. One of the things that can draw in an audience to choose to identify with a less-than-heroic screen character is for the actor to reveal the rapid transition of the character's thoughts and feelings. Bridges own youthfulness in this regard is an asset. He doesn't mug for the camera and makes no effort to sweeten the performance or the role. His influence over the character of Drew, our narrator, builds with a clumsy determination until it explodes with the last three words of the film, words that stayed in my memory since that evening forty years earlier.
I have read that some people think Bad Company is a western. This fallacious conclusion is no doubt reached because the story takes place in 1863, because the characters are heading west, and because some of the young actors in the film are familiar from actual westerns of the period. But this motion picture is almost disparaged by that label. It's more of an old-style morality play, with the Civil War as metaphor for Vietnam and the deluge of racism and profanity nothing more than simple victors in a fight for survival.
The movie merits a cultural footnote for serving as the inspiration for the name of the rock group lead by Paul Rodgers.
