Myth, Legend, Man

 BARBAROSA (1982)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The strangest western I've ever seen, most allegorical in terms of religion and surreal backdrops, is Alejandro Jodorowsky's "El Topo," a cult western that has no real equal for what it attempts. The second most strange western I've ever seen is Fred Schepisi's "Barbarosa" which has the unusual casting of Willie Nelson and Gary Busey - both at the top of their game. So is underrated Australian director Fred Schepisi who has fashioned a mythical western with almost no cliches and that is a feat considering the genre's traditional norms.

A naive farm boy named Karl (Gary Busey, with buck teeth) has trouble he's escaping from - he has accidentally killed his brother-in-law with a stick! He's riding his horse when he comes across a legendary, mythical outlaw named Barbarosa (Willie Nelson) - the outlaw has no relation to the Holy Roman Emperor Barbarossa. This aging gunfighter is no John Wayne wannabe or a Clint Eastwood variant; he is simply wanting to get close to his Mexican wife and daughter and has to deal with members of that clan trying to kill him. Each one fails and is killed by Barbarosa. There is the patriarch of that clan, the angry father-in-law Don Braulio (Gilbert Roland), who had his leg shot off by Barbarosa on the day of the outlaw's wedding! Braulio commissions a bunch of gunslingers but only one has the temperament he's seeking to kill that mythic figure and son-in-law, the fiercely committed Eduardo (Danny De la Paz).

Meanwhile, Karl is not adept with a gun or much of anything else but he is a true gentleman and a good kid - he treats Barbarosa with respect. Karl wants to stay with the outlaw as a partner-in-crime, ripping off anyone with money. Barbarosa wants to walk alone in the desert landscape as the revolving door of hired killers runs through his horizon - can he ever truly stay with his Mexican wife (Isela Vega), who longs to leave with her husband, or his daughter (Alma Martinez) whom Karl has a passing interest in?

What is most striking in "Barbarosa" is that desert landscape which seems hazardous to one's health - too many rocks, too many cliffs and a sectional woodsy area that spells death around each tree. Nothing feels quite safe in "Barbarosa" and we get strikingly photographed images that resonate such as the burial of three men with only their heads surfacing above ground  that is memorably eerie; the armadillo that Karl can't quite catch for dinner, and the pristine ranch where Don Braulio lives with his clan. 

"Barbarosa" also has Karl's slowly nuanced transformation from farm hand to a hellish gunfighter who has a vivid, unforgettable final scene that cements this 90-minute western into one of the greats of its genre. It also breaks down the idea of myth, of seeing a man and his infamous name that every Mexican exclaims as one to spin tales about to children and to equate with a devil or demon who can't be killed. Barbarosa is not so much a myth or a demon as much a man trying to support his family. Just a regular joe.