And later, when the Bunch decides that its way of life just doesn't fit into the New West of 1913, and they plan one final heist on which to retire, it is ironic that their loyalty to each other — honor among thieves, if you will — provides both their redemption and their demise.

That final sequence, the "blood ballet" as it has been called, is rough but valid.

The story has Pike Bishop (Holden) and his gang striking a deal with the devil, in this case a Mexican general who leads a band of soldiers attempting to quell the rebellion led by Pancho Villa. Bishop and friends plot to rob a train, steal 16 cases of U.S. military rifles and will sell them to the general.

Things don't work out as planned, of course, and in the end, these "Wild" cards, these leftovers from a heretofore "untamed" land whose lawlessness contains its own code of ethics, choose to die with honor rather than live in shame.

One can complain that Peck-in-pah was the world's biggest chauvinist, and women in this film are not treated well. The female characters are old crones or treacherous prostitutes, along with a smattering of faceless victims.

In some corners, the violence here is accused of being celebratory, though a stronger case can be made for an anti-violence stance.

But after 26 years, one thing is clear from viewing this film on the big screen in its restored, director's-cut version. "The Wild Bunch" is an incredibly involving and exciting piece of filmmaking.

The train holdup, the opening and closing shootouts, the tenuous relationship that signals the mix of loyalty and rivalry between Pike and his old partner-turned-hunter (Robert Ryan) are highlights, and with the film's landmark editing, pacing and artistic elements, it adds up to a classic piece of cinema that holds up remarkably well.

What's more surprising, however, is that it is more moral at its base than most of what passes for "action" films today.

"The Wild Bunch" is rated R for considerable violence and gore, some female nudity and some profanity and vulgarity.