The Sandpit Generals (1971)

          Filmmaker Hall Bartlett only made three pictures during the ’70s. Each is humanistic, musical, offbeat—and pretentious. Bartlett’s tendency for making cinematic statements reached its apex with Jonathan Livingston Seagull (1973), an audacious adaptation of the hit book about a bird searching for deeper spiritual meaning. The two Bartlett pictures bracketing this achievement are mirror images of each other. The Sandpit Generals, also known as The Wild Pack, tells the story of street urchins in Brazil seeking dignity, whereas The Children of Sanchez (1978) depicts the offspring of a willful Mexican trying to break his chain of emotional abuse. Both of Bartlett’s explorations into the rhythms of Latin culture feature evocative location photography, sprawling casts, and vibrant music. Both, to varying degrees, straddle an uncomfortable line between purposeful social commentary and overwrought melodrama.

          Bullet (Kent Lane) is the twentysomething leader of a group called “The Sandpit Generals,” comprising impoverished youths. Living in a hovel they’ve claimed as a hideout, the “Generals” venture forth to steal food and other supplies, occasionally receiving assistance from the priest who helped care for Bullet in earlier years. Bullet imposes strict codes of conduct, at one point castigating a “General” for eating garbage; during another scene, the group debates whether to excommunicate a sick kid lest he infect the whole group. Through a mosaic of impressionistic scenes, the general idea comes across that the kids have formed their own society because they have no place in the civilized world. Dramatic conflict emerges once Bullet has trouble with the law, because his arrest and subsequent incarceration in a brutal prison test his devotion to values. Will he bow to the will of the state or remain a true rebel no matter the risk? Exacerbating Bullet’s problems is his love affair with a young girl, since their future options seem grim unless something about Brazilian society fundamentally changes.

          Unapologetically political, The Sandpit Generals had an unusual theatrical life, appearing briefly on American screens before finding a huge audience in Russia, where it was perceived as a celebration of revolutionary notions about class. Viewed through modern eyes, the picture is a bit mystifying, though it does have lyrical sequences and was plainly made with great passion. The acting is consistent, no small feat with numerous juvenile performers, and that music—dark and hot and sensual—gives the film a steady pulse. Is it all a bit humorless and obvious and self-important? Sure. (Note the scene in which the priest wails, “Is it their fault that they have to steal to eat?”) But is The Sandpit Generals also compassionate and intriguing and unusual? Yes. You might not know what to make of the picture once it’s over, but it’s unlikely you’ll regret giving it a look.

The Sandpit Generals: FUNKY