Viking Night: The Getaway
By Bruce Hall
October 1, 2014
BoxOfficeProphets.com
The man was just. That. Cool.
At least, in theory. Unfortunately, he also lived in a time when being an avowed misogynist was par for the course. Don Draper has nothing on the man, and in an alternate universe, they might even be partying together right now. As with most celebrities who die (relatively) young, McQueen is a time capsule incarnate. He probably wouldn’t have a place in today’s world, and neither would most of his films. That’s what makes The Getaway such a haunting experience. It’s a gritty, often brutally violent film populated with cruel men and the women they rely on to fuel their constant consumption of everything around them.
It too is a dinosaur - but there’s a reason everybody loves dinosaurs. It’s so hard to believe such a thing ever existed, we’d give anything to see it in person.
Speaking of dinosaurs, Sam Peckinpah made a career out of exploring what the temptation of violence does to men of small minds. The fact that his best work remains so genuinely controversial says more about him than anything his detractors or supporters could ever come up with. It’s also possible he couldn’t have picked a better lead than McQueen. The actor’s hardscrabble upbringing and defiant man-child image fits the hotheaded Doc McCoy like a pair of kickass leather racing gloves. At the film’s outset, Doc is serving hard time for bank robbery. Prison is doubly shitty for a guy who likes to do his scheming and plotting on the move.
And as proof to the haters that Peckinpah really did have a brain, I submit the opening of this movie. Doc’s mind races as he rots away his days in the prison mill. The obnoxious, rhythmic clattering of the machines might as well be the sound of his brains bouncing restlessly around his skull. Assuming his particular set of skills might be useful to a very particular kind of dirtbag, Doc instructs his wife Carol (Ali MacGraw) to strike a deal - by any means necessary - with nefarious local politician Jack Benyon (Ben Johnson) to get him out of prison. She clearly thinks it’s a bad idea, but her husband is Steven Fucking McQueen (the two actors shared a disastrous real life marriage), so of course she does it anyway.
Obviously, as soon as Doc gets out, Benyon wants him to rob a bank. Even worse, Benyon’s already picked the goons for the job, including the especially loathsome Rudy (Al Lettieri), whose insatiable lust for barbecue and other people’s wives is what makes him special. Doc clearly thinks it’s a bad idea, but he’s Steven Fucking McQueen so of course he does it anyway. And of course things go wrong. You know that hotheaded guy who’s always in the gang and you know is going to go bat-shit and shoot an innocent person in the face for no reason? Yeah, that guy is in this movie. And he does that exact thing.
Still, Doc gets the money and Carol drives the getaway car exactly the way Steve McQueen’s wife SHOULD drive a getaway car. Everyone is true to their nature, including Benyon, who attempts to double-cross the couple. They manage to escape, but not before Rudy resolves to hunt them down, on account of he and Doc trying to murder each other. And of course, Benyon’s remaining henchmen have standing orders to fill Doc full of lead, and the way this movie goes for the ladies, you can imagine what’s in store for Carol. The Getaway might best be described as Tarantino before Tarantino, only without the snarky humor and presented in that hyper-reflective, 1970s milieu.
Translation - everyone and everything in this universe is either ugly or tarnished by ugliness. Banyon is a hard-drinking maniac whose path to political prominence is no doubt paved with the souls of other men and the dignity of their wives. Rudy is a disgusting sociopath who seems to enjoy his line of work not for the money but because of the frequent travel, flexible hours, and the chance to meet new people and strip of them of their dignity. Doc is only less of a savage by virtue of being in a monogamous relationship. But make no mistake - at one point in the film, Carol takes it upon herself to make a critical decision and Doc expresses his displeasure by bravely slapping her stupid along the side of the highway.
The violence on display here is still mildly graphic even by today’s standards, even despite that lame ‘70s blood that totally looks like ketchup. And the women in this film (Sally Struthers appears as a sexual plaything for Rudy about halfway through the picture, adding unintended context to the next time I watch All in the Family) would at first glance appear to exist only to be passed around or punched in the face. Still, I wouldn’t call it “sexist” so much as I’d call it “lazy writing.” The Getaway is strictly about a gruesome bunch of boys and how a mutual thirst for power and material wealth fuels their descent into violence and paranoia.
Everything and everyone else in the movie is there to be destroyed. The closest Carol comes to being fleshed out as a character is her increasing resistance to Doc’s worldview as the film progresses. Her husband is primarily concerned with making money, and his entire concept of morality comes from the fact that God is mentioned on the hundred dollar bill. Carol frets over the future of their relationship, observing that even if they escape, a life lived only for the love of money isn’t what most people would call living. Doc fails to realize that if he’d never gone to jail in the first place, none of this would be happening, and it’s only because of her that he hasn’t gone right back.
If they DO make it to Mexico and settle down, it’s easy to see him turning on her as soon as it comes time to pick out drapes. It’s said that the hard-living McQueen found redemption toward the end of a life spent running from responsibility (and five years making MacGraw’s life a living hell). Following Doc on his journey, knowing how closely art is imitating life, you find yourself quietly rooting for him to find his way.