The Getaway (1972)

Overview

The Getaway is a sleek, violent, and deeply cynical crime thriller that helped redefine the modern action film. Directed by Sam Peckinpah—known for his slow-motion shootouts and unflinching portrayals of brutality—and led by a laconic, magnetic Steve McQueen, The Getaway blends pulp fiction with existential cool.

Adapted from Jim Thompson’s hard-boiled 1958 novel, the film tells the story of a criminal couple on the run after a botched bank heist. But The Getaway isn’t just a crime caper—it’s a meditation on trust, betrayal, and the dark underbelly of the American dream.

Plot Summary

McQueen stars as Doc McCoy, a professional bank robber who is serving time in prison. Desperate to get out, Doc coerces his wife, Carol (Ali MacGraw), into striking a deal with corrupt businessman and political fixer Jack Beynon (Ben Johnson). In exchange for Doc's release, Carol agrees to let Beynon orchestrate a bank robbery with two other criminals: Rudy Butler (Al Lettieri) and Frank Jackson (Bo Hopkins).

The heist goes wrong almost immediately. Rudy kills Frank and tries to double-cross Doc, but is left for dead. Doc and Carol flee with the money, only to be relentlessly pursued by Rudy—who miraculously survives—and a rotating cast of corrupt lawmen, gangsters, and hitchhikers.

As they make their way toward Mexico, Doc begins to suspect that Carol may have traded sexual favours to secure his release, and tension between them mounts. Their relationship is tested by mistrust and danger, culminating in a final, bloody showdown in El Paso.

Themes and Subtext

Trust and Betrayal

At its core, The Getaway is a character study about trust under pressure. Doc and Carol’s marriage is strained not just by the law but by their own suspicions. The film forces the viewer to question whether unconditional loyalty can survive in a world where self-interest and betrayal are the norm.

Corruption at Every Level

Peckinpah’s America is rotten from the inside out—corrupt politicians, crooked cops, and sadistic criminals are indistinguishable in their amorality. The institutions meant to provide justice and order are just more vehicles for violence and greed.

Violence and Redemption

True to Peckinpah's signature, The Getaway is steeped in gunfire, bloodshed, and slow-motion brutality. But unlike some of his more nihilistic works (The Wild Bunch), there is a sliver of redemption in Doc and Carol’s mutual commitment to survive, no matter how messy.

Performances

Steve McQueen as Doc McCoy

McQueen gives a masterclass in underplayed intensity. His Doc McCoy is calculated, efficient, and always a step ahead—until he's not. McQueen’s silence is often more expressive than dialogue, and he communicates volumes through gestures, stares, and body language. It’s one of his most iconic performances, blending anti-hero grit with tragic nobility.

Ali MacGraw as Carol

MacGraw was a controversial casting choice at the time, better known for Love Story than gritty crime drama. While her performance lacks the layered complexity of McQueen’s, she brings an earnestness and vulnerability that balances the film’s masculine energy. Her chemistry with McQueen—who she would marry soon after—adds an electric, volatile edge to the film.

Al Lettieri as Rudy Butler

A standout performance. Lettieri, who also played Sollozzo in The Godfather, is menacing and unhinged. His subplot with a kidnapped veterinarian’s wife (Sally Struthers) is grotesque and oddly compelling, injecting black humour into the film’s midsection.

Direction and Style

Sam Peckinpah brings his trademark visual flair to The Getaway, particularly in the editing and action sequences:

Action sequences are taut, brutal, and visceral. Peckinpah’s use of slow-motion is more restrained than in The Wild Bunch but still powerful.

Editing by Robert L. Wolfe gives the film its breathless pace, especially in the heist and getaway scenes. Jump cuts and cross-cutting heighten tension without sacrificing narrative clarity.

Naturalistic environments and locations give the film a documentary-like grittiness. Much of the movie was shot in Texas towns and highways, grounding the film in realism.

The film is both a character-driven noir and a template for the modern action thriller. Its influence can be seen in later works by Michael Mann, Quentin Tarantino, and Steven Soderbergh.

Score and Sound Design

Quincy Jones composed the score, which is moody, jazzy, and unconventional. While not a traditional action score, it reflects the moral ambiguity of the film’s characters. At times, it evokes a noirish melancholy that complements the film’s emotional undercurrents.

Comparisons with the Novel

Jim Thompson’s original novel is much darker and more psychological. It includes inner monologues, particularly Doc’s increasing paranoia and Carol’s guilt, that are largely omitted in the film. In the book, Carol's betrayal is confirmed, and the couple's relationship becomes more psychologically abusive and grim.

Peckinpah and screenwriter Walter Hill opted to soften this aspect, making the relationship more romantic and redemptive—perhaps to satisfy studio expectations or to match McQueen’s heroic image. Purists might find this an oversimplification, but the film still retains much of the book’s moral ambiguity.

Cultural Impact and Legacy

The Getaway was a major commercial hit and helped solidify Steve McQueen’s reputation as the king of cool. It also marked a turning point in Hollywood action films, merging the heist genre with character-driven drama and visceral realism.

The movie has had a lasting legacy:

Walter Hill, who wrote the screenplay, would go on to direct his own influential action films (The Driver, 48 Hrs.).

A 1994 remake starring Alec Baldwin and Kim Basinger attempted to recapture the magic but lacked the grit and nuance of the original.

Peckinpah’s blend of artful violence and emotional minimalism influenced directors like Tarantino, John Woo, and Kathryn Bigelow.

Criticisms

Character depth, particularly for Carol, is sacrificed in favour of forward momentum. The screenplay hints at deeper emotional conflict but doesn't fully explore it.

Pacing in the second act slows somewhat, especially during Rudy’s subplot, which, while entertaining, diverges from the main thrust of the story.

Some aspects feel dated, including gender dynamics and the film’s sometimes blunt moral ambiguity, though this is also part of its raw charm.

Conclusion

The Getaway is a tense, gripping, and expertly crafted crime film that pairs hardboiled action with moments of surprising intimacy. Steve McQueen is magnetic, Sam Peckinpah is in top form, and the film’s fusion of genre thrills and thematic weight makes it more than just a heist movie.

It’s a cornerstone of 1970s American cinema—bleak, stylish, and unforgettable.

A lean, lethal classic of neo-noir and pulp storytelling.