DESPERADO

Serves Up A Disappointing Batch Of Carnage Asada

With a little pinch of Peckinpah and a dash of early Bruce Lee for historical flavoring, “DESPERADO” mixes comedic moments, death aplenty and two sultry leads into a Mexican combination plate that will disappoint all but the most nondiscerning cerveza-swilling cineastes.

This guns 'n guitar tale by one man band Robert Rodriguez, who wrote, directed, and edited (he even operated the stedicam), has a higher body count that a 747 crash. Action fans will appreciate the stunt work as our hero, El Mariachi (played by super-hunk Antonio Banderas), almost single-handedly blows away the world's largest array of unbathed, unshaven pistol-packing peons in his quest to find and kill underworld kingpin Bucho (blandly played by Joaquim de Almeda)—a man he has never seen but who Mr. Mariachi holds responsible for the slaying of his one and only true love.

Enter a luscious librarian (played by the stunningly beautiful Selma Hayek) who aids and abeds our hero, and Mr. Rodriguez serves up his hottest salsa in a sultry sex scene effectively juxtaposed with the evil Bucho making anything but love to his senorita.

Sated and ever so savvy, its now back to the task at hand and our mucho-macho Mariachi calls in the rest of his band—two guitar-packing honchos whose instrument cases pack a wallop far greater than any Fender Stratocaster. Assisted, of course, by his new love, this foursome makes mince-meat music in the streets and outskirts of Ciudad Acuna. As the dust clears and the music dies so do the two back-up musicians and several dozen of Bucho's dwindling henchmen. A final confrontation brings El Mariachi face-to-face with his prey, only to find that the despicable Bucho is none other than his long lost older brother. Still, justice must prevail, and so a final bloodbath ensues.

Other notables on screen include Cheech Marin who has a grand time serving #@&*-warm Changa beer to his non-local clientele in a seedy bar and Quintin Tarantino with a brief appearance telling a joke that even Henny Youngman's mother would find a groaner.

Under no circumstances can “DESPERADO” be taken seriously as the acting, the dialogue (Bucho: “You drive around town, you see someone you don't know, you shoot him!”), the improbability of El Mariachi's survival against overwhelming numbers in battle after battle, even the roaring wind sound effects blasting across the theater screen during the film's last shoot-out (when nary a hair on anyone's head moved) clearly indicate. All-in-all, this strange mixture of genres and guitars doesn't cohesively come together. Like a botched bowl of guacamole, “DESPERADO” is best left off your movie menu.