Adiós Amigo (1975)

Adiós Amigo is the kind of scrappy, low-budget Western that wins you over by leaning into its own glorious incompetence, turning shoot-’em-up expectations into a sunny, misfiring comedy of errors. The real treat is watching Richard Pryor glide through the frontier as a slick operator while Fred Williamson—usually all granite-jaw toughness—delivers a surprisingly game, self-mocking performance as the patsy who keeps getting left holding the bag. The vibe is light, playful, and knowingly ridiculous, with stagecoach schemes and outlaw bravado deflating at just the right moments. It’s not for viewers craving a polished, hard-edged Western, but if you enjoy charismatic stars, easy laughs, and a movie that’s in on the joke, this one’s a charming little surprise—just ask Gene Siskel, who expected a dud and ended up having a great time.

Adiós Amigo is clearly aiming for a laid-back buddy Western where two small-time outlaws bumble through scams and let personality do the heavy lifting, with the novelty of seeing Fred Williamson and Richard Pryor play against type. The problem is the comedy often feels like loose improvisation without a strong structure, so the “failed crimes” premise can start to play like repetition rather than escalation. If you’re expecting a sharp Pryor showcase or a tightly paced action-comedy, this may feel undercooked and strangely low-energy for the talent involved. That said, if you enjoy scruffy 70s Western oddities and can settle for a few amusing moments and casual chemistry rather than consistent laughs, it might still be a harmless time-killer.