
BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID follows the money-laundering exploits of two inseparable comrades at the turn of the 19th century. Viewers are treated to magnificent vistas of the Utah countryside, the ever-charming brotherly humour between Butch and Sundance, as well as curiously sparse musical accompaniment.
Scored by Burt Bucharach, the film is perhaps more widely known for its song “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head”, which Bucharach wrote with lyricist Hal David. A total of 26 minutes of music appeared in the film’s 112-minute runtime.
What merits discussion is how the music was spread within BUTCH, as opposed to a more recent film. In an equal situation in contemporary films—say, 20-30 minutes of music in a 100-minute runtime—the music is often broken up into extremely small fragments, sometimes lasting only a few seconds, such as smoothing a change of setting or even just scaring the audience with a single sting. Such films—sometimes deliberately, sometimes not—simply don’t allow any room for the music to breathe: there’s just too much trying to be crammed in. BUTCH, on the other hand, is a telling example of the far other end of the spectrum—where there’s just so much space and room for the plot to unfold, that hardly any music is needed. You know what the characters are thinking; you don’t need to be told by the music. You know when the characters are in trouble; you don’t need pulse-pounding action music to make your heart race. In fact, almost none of the action sequences have any music at all; on the contrary, Bacharach instead opts to focus all his strengths on character development, which is perhaps why the characters of BUTCH seem so grounded in reality, despite the somewhat over-exaggerated lifestyle of a criminal.
No, the music of BUTCH is as relaxed as the film’s cinematography; firmly grounding the characters of Butch and Sundance in the viewer’s mind before bringing them into tense situations, and then letting the viewer come to their own conclusions, rather than being told what to think by aggressively-placed music around every corner.
That’s enough of what BUTCH’s music is not, and onto what it is: an upbeat, bright meandering of the 60’s doo-wop variety; a solo accordion featured as the characters discuss their future; as well as the toe-tapping rendition of “Raindrops”, as heard throughout the montage of Butch showing off the newly-invented bicycle to Anna. The scene below is well-representative of Bacharach’s placement of the music in the film, often extended sequences with no sound or dialogue—not in short fragments like some of today’s productions, but in deliberately longer segments—leading to a superiority of music over other elements of the picture, at least while it’s playing. This is a far cry from some films today, where the music is turned down so low under character dialogue (or is obliterated by sound effects) that it might as well not be there. No, the music of BUTCH is intelligently placed within the narrative, and freely allowed to shine on its own. That’s enough of a rant about today’s films—enjoy the brief segment below.
EDIT: Here’s another clip, which occurs midway during the film; a montage of successful robberies in Bolivia.


