A Classic Burt Bacharach Song Links Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid To Spider-Man 2

The prolific American composer Burt Bacharach, author of countless pop songs, classic film scores, and more, has sadly passed away at the age of 94. His contributions to music stretch over multiple decades of pop culture, embedded in cinema thanks to featured songs in the beloved Western "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" in 1969 to "Arthur" in 1981 to even "Spider-Man 2" in 2004. The timelessness and ubiquity of Bacharach's work speaks for itself, but nowhere does that feel more celebratory of his immense influence than in the connective link between "Butch Cassidy" and Sam Raimi's "Spider-Man" sequel.

On the face of it, both movies might not immediately come to mind as ones sharing a similar strain of DNA. The 1969 Western, starring Paul Newman and Robert Redford, stands the test of time as a thoroughly revisionist take on the popular genre depicting the two famous outlaws constantly on the run from their pursuers. "Spider-Man 2," meanwhile, takes a uniquely earnest and heart-on-its-sleeve approach to Marvel's flagship superhero as Tobey Maguire's Peter Parker faces his toughest challenge yet. But one clever (and rather controversial) selection of a Burt Bacharach song forever keeps both films in the same conversation: the 1969 song "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head."

Recorded by vocalist B. J. Thomas, the single immediately topped the charts and went on to win several prestigious honors, including Best Original Song and even being inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. Thanks to a very unconventional yet oddly compelling pairing, Bacharach's body of work will always be remembered on the big screen in two of the most popular kinds of stories: the Western and the superhero movie.

"Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" might be heralded as an unmissable classic nowadays, but back when it arrived it took both critics and audiences a little longer to appreciate the finer details of the George Roy Hill-directed picture. Nowhere did that disconnect appear stronger than in the famous bicycle sequence between Paul Newman's Butch and Katherine Ross' Etta. Coming relatively early in the film, the surprisingly laid-back scene is full of slapstick stunts and hijinks — all accompanied by the jarring and anachronistic use of the Bacharach song.

At the time, this choice drew divisive responses across the board, not the least of which came all the way from the top of 20th Century Fox. Deeming it "too risky and unconventional," the studio's reticence was shared by co-star Redford himself, singer B.J. Thomas' agents, and quite a few members of the critical community. (Roger Ebert himself was none too impressed by the movie in general.)

But taken on its own merits, the surprising choice to include such a lighthearted and incredibly silly sequence in the middle of a Western and set it to "Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head," of all songs, proved to be a stroke of genius. Adding a sweet and melancholy tone in the early going, the scene helped ground audiences in the emotions of the moment before things took a much more violent turn soon after. With Thomas' laryngitis-ridden voice straining to get the words out and adding even more of a lived-in feel to the proceedings, it's safe to say that Bacharach's song and his work on the score in general, as ill-fitting as it may have seemed, helped turn "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" into the bona fide classic that it is.

Spider-Man, Spider-Man, does whatever a spider can ... until he experiences an existential crisis of self-doubt, decides to give up on the hardships of his responsibility, and embraces the carefree life of a regular civilian.

In 2004, Sam Raimi delivered one of the most enduring portraits of a down-to-earth nobody struggling to live up to the lofty ideals of being a superhero with "Spider-Man 2." The acclaimed sequel comes loaded with unforgettable sequences, such as Raimi channeling his horror roots when Alfred Molina's Doc Ock wakes up in the middle of surgery or the action sequence that ends on that elevated subway train. But one, in particular, best summarizes the filmmaker's deft touch in creating the unique tone of this emotionally-charged sequel.

When a profoundly overwhelmed Peter Parker begins to lose his powers and finally begins to tire of a life constantly interrupted by fighting bad guys, we receive one of the most memorable moments in all of comics: "Spider-Man no more." Yet the power of that moment might not have landed as hard as it does if not for what occurs next. In a wonderfully comedic and over-the-top montage, Raimi puts Peter's rejection of the call and his reintegration into civilian life right up against the strains of "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head." The images of Peter's pratfall and subsequently fixing his mangled bicycle, the outsized editing, and even the freeze-frame that ends the sequence cheekily calls to mind similar elements from "Butch Cassidy," but here the sincerity of the moment is balanced by the winking humor of it all.

Burt Bacharach's legacy is far larger than any one song or any two films, but the fact that his indelible career will always include these particular movies simply feels right. Nothing's worrying me, indeed.