Not to be confused with the rock band of the '90s crime film of the same name, Bad Company is one of the more compassionate films of the so-called revisionist western movement that really kicked off with The Wild Bunch. Like Sam Peckinpah's subsequent film The Ballad of Cable Hogue, it's a character study with only enough violence to get the point across without the splashy squibs that audiences were expecting by this point. The film marked a turning point for several of its participants, most notably Bonnie and Clyde co-writer Robert Benton who made his directorial debut here and went on to Oscar glory with Kramer vs. Kramer and Places in the Heart (and an eccentric suspense pastiche with Still of the Night). It was also the first real star vehicle for Jeff Bridges after his standout performance in the ensemble of 1971's The Last Picture Show, establishing the quirky leading man persona he would use to great effect around this time in Fat City, The Last American Hero, Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, and Rancho Deluxe.

In Missouri, young Drew (Brown) is on the run after hiding from the draft during the Civil War. He ends up being robbed by Jake (Bridges), head of a small gang of thieves, and their paths keep crossing until they end up joining forces. As a group of six, they make their way across the Midwest and commit petty robberies, in the process getting caught in the cross-hairs of older criminals in their path.

If it didn't already have enough going for it, Bad Company also earned its place in the history books as legendary cinematographer Gordon Willis' follow-up film to The Godfather and Klute (with The Parallax View coming soon after). This was the first western he shot, and needless to say he goes against the standard scope compositions of the time with a dark, earthy aesthetic reminiscent of photographs from the period. In addition to the two excellent lead performances (tragically, Brown would take his own life six years later), it's loaded with familiar and upcoming character actors including a pre-Deer Hunter John Savage, Geoffrey Lewis, western actor Jim Davis, Summer of '42's Jerry Houser, Ed Lauter, Clint Eastwood regular John Quade, and a particularly rich role for the very busy David Huddleston (The Big Lebowski, Crime Busters, Santa Claus: The Movie). This was also one of the few early '70s westerns to skate by with a PG rating, but if you're familiar with the early '70s MPAA system, it's still fairly rough at times with some moments of brutality if not outright bloodshed. Actually, the most shocking moment in the film (involving the very real killing of a rabbit) didn't raise an eyebrow at the time but leaves a very nasty taste now. Otherwise this is an excellent, very assured calling card for Benton and company, and it's no wonder this has remained a critical and cult audience favorite ever since.

Paramount has kept this film available on home video with fair regularity over the years including a VHS that seemed to be in every single store in the '80s and a no-frills 2003 DVD. An HD master turned up on broadcast on Cinemax and other channels around the mid-'00s, but apart from an option to rent or buy it for streaming, that particular version has never been on physical media. That doesn't matter though because in 2024 Fun City Editions brought the film to Blu-ray featuring a much-improved 4K scan from the 35mm camera negative, and it easily blows the earlier HD version out of the water with much deeper blacks, finer film grain, and stronger colors throughout. It's a real beauty of a viewing experience, and the DTS-HD MA English 2.0 mono track is also in perfect shape. Optional English SDH subtitles are provided as usual. The extras are somewhat on the light side, but you do get a thorough and often perceptive audio commentary by Walter Chaw who juggles the coming-of-age aspects of the tale with its use of western tropes and skillful visual language to create a vivid sense of time and place. Also included are a collection of radio spots, an image gallery, and the original trailer, while the insert booklet for the first pressing features a new essay by Margaret Barton-Fumo.

Reviewed on September 20, 2024