Zen and the Art Of Gun Fighting

Some films are worshipped like Christ on the cross. The Godfather (parts I and II), Easy Rider, Raging Bull, Pulp Fiction, these are all films that have been elevated to the status of cinematic deities, burned into the public’s collective sub-conscious like so much napalm. There are some films however that end up becoming more like myths, whispered folklore and half remembered dreams. El Topo is one such film.

Directed by and starring Alejandro Jodorowsky, a Chilean with a taste for surrealism and the alchemical, the movie became something of an underground hit in 1970, with John Lennon proclaiming it to be his favourite film after seeing it with loco Yoko in a New York art house.

Coming across like a mix of Luis Bunuel (Spanish surrealist godhead) and Sergio Leone (if you need telling who that is, get off my site) the film is truly a riotous trip. Violent in the extreme, the plot follows the adventure of the titular gun man and his seven year old son as he sets off on a quest to challenge and kill 4 Masters of the gun fighting art. Feeling more like a Samurai epic than a spaghetti western in places, the plot merely serves as a tool to get from one visually stunning and disturbing metaphor to the next, with it being abandoned almost completely half way through.

The film is that rare of all beasts, a head fuck that you enjoy. Setting your film in the desert is always going to give it that inner-space quest feel, and this is enhanced to perfection by the four gun masters. The first is essentially a Buddha or a swami, so peaceful that he offers no resistance to even bullets and they pass harmlessly through his flesh. The second is the artisan, a man who works with metal to enhance his strength, and with delicate models to enhance his accuracy and restraint. The third man is a rabbit farmer, a man who believes in passion and mercy, a man who carries a gun with only one shot. Most pertinent of all is the old master, who gave up his gun long ago and now uses a butterfly net to deflect the bullets of others. It sounds mental I know, but the pace and beauty of the film suck you right in, and it becomes a nice treatise on the nature of violence.

Not to say it isn’t without its flaws. Whether Jodorowsky intended it or not, there is an unpleasant streak of misogyny running through the film, what with the only pertinent female character, Mara, being manipulative, selfish and shallow. At one point she actually manages to get El Topo to leave his son with some monks so they can carry on alone. Also some of the acting leaves a little to be desired. Most of the main roles are fine, but you can just tell in places they didn’t have enough money for descent bit part actors and just drafted in anyone they knew willing to work for free.

El Topo is credited with helping to create to the new wave of Hollywood auteurs in the 1970s, with everyone from Dennis Hopper and Francis Coppola to Martin Scorsese citing it as an inspiration. Need I say more?