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Cross of Iron (1977)

Rate: 6
Viewed: 6/17

CrossIron
6/17: Sam Peckinpah is finally back in Cross of Iron after directing four straight stinkers with each being successively worse: The Getaway, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia, and The Killer Elite.

Showing nothing in the likes of The Wild Bunch, Straw Dogs, and Junior Bonner, these pictures are garbage and possess no movie magic or coherent storytelling qualities. At that point, it seemed like Sam Peckinpah drank himself to death, failing to see the difference between crap and shit.

Enter Cross of Iron. This one has it all. Yet it's not a great movie. The trouble is that there's no story, just a weak subplot about the chaos of a WWII battle. But it's not enough to sustain a picture for over two hours. The poorly conceived ending must have happened because the filmmakers ran out of money.

The acting is decent but not believable enough. Everybody is too American or Engish to pretend to be Germans. Plus, they all speak English. James Coburn is no good while James Mason is forgettable and therefore is of no consequence. When it comes to medals, Mason had already starred in The Blue Max. I don't know how many times Maximilian Schell had done this, but it's been a lot in his lifetime.

All in all, Cross of Iron is the last good Sam Peckinpah picture, so enjoy it for the sake of editing.