William Goldman provided a pretty satisfying script for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969) except that it sinks sufficiently low to offer violence for laughs during the outlaws’ first train robbery. But there’s no violence for laughs later, and what develops is another meritorious Western of the interesting Sixties. Meritorious even though director George Roy Hill had little feel for Westerns; his saving grace was having a feel for action pictures—and a sense of artistry. For one thing, there are many nifty medium-long shots of Butch and Sundance fleeing their pursuers in the great outdoors beautiful and oppressive.
By the way, I’m glad the spitting nerd played by Strother Martin gets killed not long after we meet him.