Viewings: September 2026

Real life priorities reared its ugly head again. Blogging took a hit and so my review of Walter Hill's classic thriller Southern Comfort, Picks of 1996, and a feature on the lost Carry On films were put on the back burner.

Fortunately, I managed to cover a film I originally thought I had seen, but hadn't until now: Sam Peckinpah's neo-Western Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia was unquestionably the highlight of the month for me.

 

Film:

The Trollenberg Terror AKA The Crawling Eye (Quentin Lawrence, 1958)

Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia (Sam Peckinpah, 1974) 

Southern Comfort (Walter Hill, 1981) ♲

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains (Lou Adler, 1982)

Cast a Deadly Spell (Martin Campbell, 1991)

Bloody Tennis (Nikias Chryssos, 2026)

Dr Who Meets the Scorpion (Richard Roberts & Philip Roy, 2026)

Gator Face (Padraig Reynolds, 2026)

Ice Cream Man (Eli Roth, 2026)

Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma (Jane Schoenbrun, 2026)

 

Television:

Hammer House of Horror: Children of the Full Moon (Tom Clegg, 1980) ♲

Doctor Who: World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls (Rachel Talaley, 2017) ♲

Mastermind (2026/2027)

♲ Rewatch

Dada Debaser Notes:

• Similar to the Richard Quatermass films, The Trollenberg Terror was another TV sci-fi series adapted to film. Sadly, no physical copies of the series exist today, which is too bad as the multiple plot threads might have been more effective in that format than in the feature film. Not even the legendary screenwriter Jimmy Sangster could sort that mess out. Great aliens, though. They remind me of Kang and Kodos from The Simpsons. 
• Imagine Who Framed Roger Rabbit? but instead of Looney Tunes being mixed with Film Noir it's H.P. Lovecraft. You get Cast a Deadly Spell; a film with magic, gremlins and raining blood being the norm in 1940s L.A. Enjoyable film, with a great cast (Fred Ward, Clancy Brown, Julianne Moore and David Warner), but I wish the concept was taken more seriously instead of being so tongue in cheek.
• Gator Face is essentially The Texas Chainsaw Massacre substituting the Sawyer family with a bizarre, Christian offshoot of alligator worshippers. All the attractive actresses die very early on. 
• Diane Lane and Ray Winstone deliver outstanding early career performances in the punk drama Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains. It's a shame the rest of the film isn't on their level.
• Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is yet another symptom of horrendous millennial writing and over done meta narratives in an effort to over intellectualise film making. It's not even a slasher film. Bored me to tears, and it's the worst thing I've seen Gillian Anderson in since that one she did with Danny Dyer.
• Ice Cream Man doesn't really deserve the hate it's getting from slacktivists; but I also don't like it enough to waste time defending it, either. 
• Bloody Tennis is essentially a mash-up of Challengers with Suspiria. Very uneven, but it might grow on me if I ever catch it again. Why practice on a clay court for Wimbledon, though?
• Apart from being better than anything we got from the Chibnall and RTD2 eras, the best thing about that new Doctor Who fan film is it making me laugh when a zombie Adric appeared on screen. 

I Am Sam

Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia (Sam Peckinpah, 1974)

File Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia (1974) as a film I thought I’d watched, but really hadn’t until now. Its opening sequence, portraying a pregnant woman subjected to torture by the henchmen of her Mexican overlord father, El Jefe (Emilio Fernández); who demands to know the identity of the man responsible for getting her up the duff. This scene immediately triggers the Mandela Effect of a Zapata Western that I had imagined seeing in the past. However, a deliberate misdirection follows: the film swiftly establishes a contemporary setting, with vehicles racing off and a jet taking off once it is revealed that the father of the unborn child is someone called Alfredo Garcia, for whom a $1,000,000 bounty has been offered by the furious overlord. Thus, the premise of the film is established.

Two American bounty hunters, Sappensly (Robert Webber) and Johnny Quill (Gig Young), enter a Mexican saloon in search of information regarding Alfredo Garcia’s location. They encounter Bennie (Warren Oates), a former U.S. Army officer currently employed as a piano performer in the bar. It turns out Bennie might be able to help them when he is offered $10,000 to find Garcia. Bennie gets his longtime, prostitute girlfriend, Elita (Isela Vega), involved. She once had an affair with the elusive, Latin Lothario. She also reveals to Bennie that he died in a car accident very recently. Thus, the couple go on a road trip to find Alfredo Garcia’s grave and obtain his head.

Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia may be regarded as Sam Peckinpah’s personal interpretation of The Odyssey. Following the establishment of the principal characters, the plot unfolds like a road film, in which Bennie and Elita traverse the Mexican countryside, towards Garcia’s village. Along the way, they encounter a series of vivid figures, including two predatory motorcyclists, one portrayed by Kris Kristofferson, who attempt to rape Elita before Bennie dispatches them both.

The film also serves as a narrative of Bennie’s personal evolution. Initially characterised by heavy drinking and recklessness, he begins to acknowledge his shortcomings. His intention to make amends manifests in a commitment to marry Elita. This journey of earnest reflection shifts dramatically upon locating Garcia’s grave; without revealing plot details, notwithstanding the film’s age, Bennie becomes driven by a desire for retribution and the pursuit of final restitution.

The fine line between toxic masculinity and the aesthetic appreciation of Sam Peckinpah’s hyper-masculine cinema presents an obvious paradox. On the one hand, his output, particularly his genre-focused films of the 1970s, exemplifies violent misogyny; on the other, few filmmakers have examined the very elements of male machismo with such comparable depth quite like him. Therefore, films such as The Wild Bunch (1969), Straw Dogs (1971), and Cross of Iron (1977) transcend beyond just being portrayals of chauvinistic violence and intoxication, as proclaimed by easily offended cinephiles.

Ironically, the character of Bennie appears to function as a self-insertion of his co-creator/director. Peckinpah’s depiction of a man grappling with internal conflicts and seeking respite through alcohol mirrored his very own demons.

Warren Oates’s weathered face epitomises the gritty aesthetic of 1970s cinema. His rugged, hellraiser lifestyle proved advantageous in portraying the thoroughly dishevelled Bennie. He is a character who has hit rock bottom. The depiction of Bennie evokes an immediate sensory impression of sweat and alcohol, mirroring the visual olfactory resonance of Gary Bond’s John Grant in Wake in Fright (1971). Above all, the two characters are inextricably linked with deep psychological issues. Which more or less makes Bennie the perfect avatar of Peckinpah in what is undoubtedly his most personal film. However, it’s highly doubtful Peckinpah ever drove around with a rotting severed head in his car and had conversations with it.

Isela Vega is impeccably cast as Elita, a multifaceted character who understands Bennie more profoundly than he understands himself. Typical of a Peckinpah production, her role endures the director’s characteristic brutality. Vega’s ability to project authentic strength in a character who is largely unclothed throughout the film, renders her performance particularly remarkable. Her rapport with Warren Oates elevates the production beyond the conventions of a standard road movie. This quality prompted Peckinpah to select her over his initial choice, Aurora Clavel, who featured in his classic Western The Wild Bunch.

Although this neo-Western initially started somewhat sluggish, it improved drastically once Bennie and Elita embarked on their journey to locate Alfredo Garcia’s grave. Research into the production revealed that Sam Peckinpah continually revised scenes during filming; he even changed the ending following a discussion with his on-set biographer. Such abrupt modifications can affect a film’s coherence; however, having read about the original conclusion, Peckinpah definitely made a wise change. The finale left a sobering impression on me long after the credits.

In retrospect, I kind of regret not having seen this film until now. However, I do feel fortunate to have experienced a genuine, gritty 1970s thriller of this calibre for the first time. Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia exemplifies the type of cinema I wish were still produced today; uncompromised by millennial writing or the constraints of political correctness. Sadly, it’s doubtful the film industry would even accept a film maker like Sam Peckinpah in its environment today.