Much to admire in Bite the Bullet, but the plot, setting, and editing are so ungainly as to undermine the overall cinematic experience.
What's right about the film shouldn't be underestimated. Like a lot of 70s films, Bite the Bullet has a conscience. The representations of that conscience may make you wince, but the story treats its characters justly and insightfully. The Hackman character's recurrent decency to animals and humans creates a counter-narrative to all their suffering that bears good fruit as the story develops. The actors are all-star and well-cast--Hackman is in his prime, Coburn is best as a supporting actor, Ian Bannen was among 20c England's most likable talents, Candice Bergen looks like she looks, J-M Vincent shows good movement and range, and Ben Johnson gracefully reprises the old-timer from The Last Picture Show. The dialog and cinematography are often fine enough that individual scenes feel ravishing.
Despite all these good vibes, the scenario's too big even for cinema. So many characters, stunt doubles, changes of landscape, and minutes strain attention. In the final plot-turn the soundtrack painfully echoes comedies like The Great Race while the actors go hammy. Suddenly one sees the undisciplined, indulgent, undiscriminating side of the decade. The finish-line scene appropriately comments on the race's inevitable exhaustion, but I had to fight to keep my finger off the fast-forward. Anyone not so devoted might wonder why they spent quite so much time watching or how a director might expect anyone to care about so many many people for so long.
What's right about the film shouldn't be underestimated. Like a lot of 70s films, Bite the Bullet has a conscience. The representations of that conscience may make you wince, but the story treats its characters justly and insightfully. The Hackman character's recurrent decency to animals and humans creates a counter-narrative to all their suffering that bears good fruit as the story develops. The actors are all-star and well-cast--Hackman is in his prime, Coburn is best as a supporting actor, Ian Bannen was among 20c England's most likable talents, Candice Bergen looks like she looks, J-M Vincent shows good movement and range, and Ben Johnson gracefully reprises the old-timer from The Last Picture Show. The dialog and cinematography are often fine enough that individual scenes feel ravishing.
Despite all these good vibes, the scenario's too big even for cinema. So many characters, stunt doubles, changes of landscape, and minutes strain attention. In the final plot-turn the soundtrack painfully echoes comedies like The Great Race while the actors go hammy. Suddenly one sees the undisciplined, indulgent, undiscriminating side of the decade. The finish-line scene appropriately comments on the race's inevitable exhaustion, but I had to fight to keep my finger off the fast-forward. Anyone not so devoted might wonder why they spent quite so much time watching or how a director might expect anyone to care about so many many people for so long.