The Unicorn Scale: Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid

Welcome, Unicorns! I have a confession to make. Queer revisionism does not come easily to me. While I have a fervent interest in film history and watched quite a wide breadth of movies, there were tons of flicks I took at face value — and never really read them for queer subtexts (unless it was, you know, glaringly obvious). To this day, if people ask what my favorite films are, they’re usually this top (unranked) five: The Shawshank Redemption (1994), Almost Famous (2000), The Last Picture Show (1971), Thelma and Louise (1991) … and the subject of this review: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969).

Ever since I saw it as a teenager, I’ve adored it from the first frame to last. I’ve watched it so often I can usually recite the lines with my eyes closed. But I’d never really read the classic bromance for a queer love story — until my editor mentioned she’d love to see a review of the classic in this column. What now?! Would that even work? I decided I had to give it a shot.

Before I go on, however, I should delve into some disclaimers, so everyone is on the same page. First and foremost, there will be SPOILERS for the plot of this 1969 Western in order for me to make my assertions. And I should add that if this is your first time around these parts and you’re wondering what the Unicorn Scale is all about, you can learn all about it here.

Are we all up to speed now? Dandy.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is a Western buddy comedy that follows a pair of 19th-century train robbers — Butch (Paul Newman), the smart one, and Sundance (Robert Redford), the gunslinger — on a series of adventures with their Hole-In-the-Wall Gang. When the friends rob a certain banker one time too many, the jilted victim sics a super-posse on their tail — and we follow our two heroes during this dogged pursuit.

What I Liked:

Before I get into the bi-ness of it all, I think it’s important to set up what we see at face value, and that’s that both Butch and Sundance are attracted to women. Butch certainly has a way with (and is gentle with and respectful towards) sex workers, and the two men have a genuine affection for a schoolteacher, Etta (Katharine Ross), who joins them on their retreat to Bolivia. While Etta and Sundance have a clear sexual relationship (in what now reads like a creepy scene which contains a previously-agreed-upon armed Peeping Tom role-play), she also acknowledges the chemistry between herself and Butch when they go for a bike ride, idly wondering if they would have gotten together first if the timing had been different.

But the meat of the romance in this film is not between the men and Etta (though it’s there), but rather the relationship between Butch and Sundance themselves. Sure, there was a famous ease of friendship between the two actors themselves that likely led to the indelible exchange they committed to celluloid.

But I think there’s more here than just some buddy-buddy repartee. They are intimate in surprising ways, revealing their true names to each other as well as bickering more like an old married couple than old friends when in a tight spot. This type of fighting also shows up in their negotiations on everything, with even jealousy seeming to rear its ugly head. They are ill at ease when seeing each other be romantic with someone else; Sundance, in particular, seems to be uncomfortable around Butch when he gets to romancing a sex worker such as Agnes (a young Cloris Leachman!), and dismissive when Butch seemingly jokes about Etta that he’s “stealing your woman.”

This may all seem like a stretch, but I’m not the first person to conjure a queer reading on this film. To point, there’s a hilarious interview with Paul Newman (I think it was on “Inside the Actor’s Studio”; reader, if you can find the clip, I’ll mail you a dollar) where he recounted to the interviewer he was once on a radio show. The host called up Redford, offering to finance the actor’s paycheck of $1 million for a sequel... where the two characters go to bed together. Apparently, after a long pause, Redford replied: “Not enough," and hung up.

Hey, if Newman and Redford are good-natured about the queer close reading, that’s approval enough for me.

What I Didn't Like:

What do I always dislike? No one uses the term “bi". Then again, the setting of this movie is right around when the word was invented, so I know I’m being picky about that element.

It would have been nice to see the two cowboys express their same-sex attraction, now that I’m seeing this film in a new light. But no, no no, gotta #killyourgays like we always do. At least this time, we have a lot of laughs along the way?

The Rating:

It pains me to even think that one of my favorite films is lacking anything because this movie is still pitch-perfect in my eyes. But considering the groundwork laid for this intimate relationship between these bank robbers, I wish I could have seen it get fleshed out. To quote Butch himself: