Butch Cassidy — The Movie Star Intro

Julia Roberts’ glamourous entrance down the Bellagio’s staircase in Ocean’s Eleven didn’t come easy. It took more than a few takes to get her arrival, a pivotal moment in the story, just right. Gamely staying in character throughout, Brad Pitt ate over 40 shrimp as they shot and reshot the scene. Of course, Julia did have an awfully long set of stairs to glide down. Still, 40 is a lot of shrimp. In the end, Julia delivers one sexy descent. Maybe the shrimp were worth it?

The proper “introduction” of a movie star in a film showcasing its stars’ charisma is no small challenge to the seasoned screenwriter. For us newbies it’s yet another intimidating element to juggle while crafting our scripts. We can learn much from William Goldman. Few films deliver such memorable character introductions as Goldman does for Paul Newman (Butch) and Robert Redford (the Sundance Kid) in this week’s movie under study.

Interestingly, it’s Paul Newman, the much bigger star at the time, that almost gets the shorter end of the stick. When we first meet Butch Cassidy, he’s casing a bank. Not that we necessarily know this. (Or as Goldman writes, “if we don’t quite what it is that he’s doing at this point, that’s all right too.”) To clarify what he’s up to Goldman, pushing today’s rules, spells out a series of shots: the bank’s thick door, the money being counted, the guard’s holster, the safe. But whereas in a more traditional crime movie, the criminal would first case the joint and then stealthily slink off into the darkness, here our bankrobbing hero steps directly into the spotlight and addresses the guard. “What happened to the old bank?” Butch wants to know. “People kept robbing it,” comes the reply. “That’s small price to pay for beauty,” yells the disgruntled Butch from across the street.

With minimal dialogue we already know that Butch is a loudmouth, unafraid of attracting attention, and more likely than not, never shuts up. No strong silent cowboy he, Butch is also a romantic, nostalgic for the good ole days when banks were beautiful and robbery was a respected profession of sorts. Have we ever met a Western lead quite like this?

It only gets better with Sundance’s intro. Here’s the scene broken down into component beats:

1) Ordinary world. The Kid (we don’t yet know it is him) playing cards at Macon’s saloon. We learn that The Kid is cleaning everybody out. Also, The Kid, unlike Butch, is a man of few words.
2) Inciting. The Kid agrees to play saloon-owner Macon. It’s a fast moving game. Macon loses and accuses the Kid of cheating. The Kid tries to ignore the slight and just keeps stacking his winnings.
3) Point of no return: Macon orders the Kid to leave the money–and go.
4) Step up. The Kid resists. He bridles at being accused of cheating. “What if I stay?” “You won’t.”
5) Midpoint Twist. Butch enters. Perhaps he can save the day? Butch indeed tries to persuade the Kid to leave. Instead of listening, the Kid insists he wasn’t cheating.
6) False ending. the Kid offers: if Macon invites them to stay, he’s willing to leave. Meanwhile, the Kid cases the room for his shooting angles (parallels the earlier series of shots when Butch cased the bank). Butch asks Macon to consider inviting them to stick around.
7) Low point. Macon refuses to invite the Kid to stay. Butch: “Sorry I can’t help you, Sundance.”
8) Final twist. Macon panics. “The Sundance Kid.” He didn’t know it was the Sundance Kid. If he draws the Kid will kill him. Butch again urges Macon to invite them to stick around. And Macon, under the Kid’s withering glare, does.
9) Conclusion. At Macon’s request, Sundance demonstrates his shooting prowess. Butch ribs the Kid about his one miss. Is the Kid over the hill? And then they are gone. Dissolve to main title sequence.

Breaking the rules as his wont, Goldman uses an exceptionally long scene to accomplish all this: 10-1/2 pp in the 7/15/68 draft. Yet every beat is worth it.

The contrast between Butch and the Kid couldn’t be stronger. Sundance, taciturn, poker-faced, uncompromising, a master at both cards and guns, is a guy’s guy who lets his actions speak for him. He’s got his own code of honor and he’ll be damned if he’s going to let others accuse him of dishonor. Sundance seems loyal in the best ways. He’s also proud, the kind of pride that can be a man’s downfall.

Butch is voluble, a born salesman and negotiator, quick on his feet, sly, and constantly trying to compromise to turn the situation to their advantage. He’s already aware of life’s shadows (Butch repeats several times that they are over the hill), but one senses that Butch won’t run out of energy or conniving until he drops down dead.

Intriguingly, these two opposites have clearly managed to form a deep bond. This is an old married couple. They get each others’ jokes. They tweak each other. They even ignore each other when convenient. But ultimately they stick up for one another. They’ll always have each others’ back.

It’s a masterful introduction to the Kid. And to the pair. It tells us everything we need to know about Butch and Sundance for the rest of the movie. They’re stubborn and talented. And they push things to the edge. With its sly humor, the scene has us immediately rooting for these two unpredictable rebels. It also asks the central question: Will they prove to be over the hill? Has their time passed? Or will they triumph in their schemes? Like all great character intros, it has us perched on the edge of our chairs waiting to find out.

p.s. After Goldman’s masterful intro, would YOU eat 40 shrimp for these guys? What do you think? Did the intro work as well for you as it did for me?