The Auteur and The Smiling Cobra
By 1972, Sam Peckinpah was one of Hollywood’s most vital and volatile filmmakers. Known as “Bloody Sam” for his unflinching depictions of violence, he was an uncompromising artist who saw filmmaking as a personal war. His opponent in this story was James
T. Aubrey, the head of MGM, a man who earned the nickname “the Smiling Cobra” for his pleasant demeanor while systematically dismantling the creative visions of directors and the legacy of the studio he ran. Aubrey was a cost-cutter, a numbers man who saw movies as products, not art. When he offered Peckinpah the chance to direct Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, it was less a collaboration and more the scheduling of an inevitable, head-on collision.
A Vision of the Dying West
Peckinpah didn't want to make just another western. He saw the story of the aging lawman Pat Garrett hunting down his old friend Billy the Kid as an elegy—a mournful, lyrical poem about the death of the Old West, the loss of integrity, and the moment friendships curdle into business. He cast iconic actors like James Coburn and Kris Kristofferson in the lead roles, and, in a stroke of genius, brought in Bob Dylan to compose the score and play a small part. The shoot in Durango, Mexico, was chaotic, plagued by technical problems, a script that was never quite finished, and Peckinpah’s own escalating alcoholism. Yet through the haze, he was crafting something remarkable: a film with a slow, deliberate pace and a deeply melancholic tone.
The Battle in the Cutting Room
When Peckinpah presented his 124-minute cut to the studio, James Aubrey was appalled. He saw a slow, confusing film that lacked the shoot-'em-up action he could sell. His vision and Peckinpah's were fundamentally incompatible. The director’s contract gave him two public previews, but sensing defeat, Peckinpah didn't attend them. Seizing the opportunity, Aubrey ripped the film from Peckinpah's control. He ruthlessly cut nearly 20 minutes from the movie, removing key character moments, rearranging scenes, and even excising a crucial framing sequence that established Pat Garrett's own eventual death. The cuts weren't just for time; they were personal, seemingly designed to break the director’s spirit.
The Wreckage of a Masterpiece
The version of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid that limped into theaters in May 1973 was a ghost of Peckinpah's original. At 106 minutes, it was an incoherent, disjointed mess that baffled critics and audiences alike. The film was a commercial failure, disowned by its director and many of its stars. The music, including Dylan’s iconic song “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door,” was celebrated, but the film itself was considered a tragic misfire from a once-great director. For years, Aubrey’s butchered version was the only one most people saw, a cinematic tragedy that stood as a warning to any director who dared challenge the front office.
Vindication Through Restoration
But a masterpiece can't always be kept down. Unbeknownst to the studio, a handful of Peckinpah’s editors had smuggled a print of his original preview cut out of MGM before Aubrey’s cuts were made. This 122-minute version was preserved, hidden away like a secret treasure. In 1988, four years after Peckinpah’s death, this “Turner Preview Cut” was finally shown on television and released on home video. Critics and film lovers were stunned. The restored film was a revelation—the rich, complex, and deeply moving work Peckinpah had intended all along. Since then, further restorations, including a 2005 Special Edition, have solidified its reputation as one of the greatest westerns ever made, a film that, as Martin Scorsese said, came very close to the power of Peckinpah's other masterpiece, The Wild Bunch.
