How can anyone argue the fact that Urban Cowboy was, and still is, the best document of Texas life for the time period. Consider the following: men beat their wives, get drunk at bars nightly, get married to settle a fight, commit adultery, and compete on mechanical bulls. Try and name a movie that depicts real life so vividly. They dont make them anymore. It seems current films are always about people with lots of money, they live in huge homes, drive expensive cars and don't work. This movie has a celebration scene about getting a trailer for pete's sake !
Anyway, I watch it at least once a week. No kidding. I have dissected this movie from end to end. feel free to email me to learn more about my reason for calling it a documentary. Consider the following scenes: Bud sees Sissy - they are split up - he amicably honks and waves, she flips him the bird - he returns half the peace sign honking his horn to add impact then tears off.
Buds mom calls him approx. 18 hours after he gets into town, on a Sunday, to see if he has a job yet - all he has accomplished is getting drunk and laid(x2), with help from his uncle and aunt who cover for him.
"You all live like pigs" Think about why this scene is needed. Think about it. Was it necessary ? Could we not figure it out without showing the filthy sink ? God I love that !
Sissy allows Wes to help her ride the bull. Only a few days (or possibly the next day) after Wes just kicked the crap out of her husband. Steve asks - Hey Sissy, remember Wes ? Oh yeah, didnt you beat my husband up the other night, so let's get this lesson goin', to make no mention of the fact that she seeks solace in him later during one Bud and Sissy's many fights, which by the way all take place in public - in Gilley's !
The Wedding reception picture taking session (oh the humanity !) could they at least arrange or move the chairs out of the way. "My legs are sweatin' momma"
In conclusion, you don't put scenes like this in a movie to try and show insight into human psychology. It is a documentary of real life.
I only wish there was a director's cut....

It must be assumed that those who praised this film ("the greatest filmed opera ever," didn't I read somewhere?) either don't care for opera, don't care for Wagner, or don't care about anything except their desire to appear Cultured. Either as a representation of Wagner's swan-song, or as a movie, this strikes me as an unmitigated disaster, with a leaden reading of the score matched to a tricksy, lugubrious realisation of the text.
It's questionable that people with ideas as to what an opera (or, for that matter, a play, especially one by Shakespeare) is "about" should be allowed anywhere near a theatre or film studio; Syberberg, very fashionably, but without the smallest justification from Wagner's text, decided that Parsifal is "about" bisexual integration, so that the title character, in the latter stages, transmutes into a kind of beatnik babe, though one who continues to sing high tenor -- few if any of the actors in the film are the singers, and we get a double dose of Armin Jordan, the conductor, who is seen as the face (but not heard as the voice) of Amfortas, and also appears monstrously in double exposure as a kind of Batonzilla or Conductor Who Ate Monsalvat during the playing of the Good Friday music -- in which, by the way, the transcendant loveliness of nature is represented by a scattering of shopworn and flaccid crocuses stuck in ill-laid turf, an expedient which baffles me. In the theatre we sometimes have to piece out such imperfections with our thoughts, but I can't think why Syberberg couldn't splice in, for Parsifal and Gurnemanz, mountain pasture as lush as was provided for Julie Andrews in Sound of Music...
The sound is hard to endure, the high voices and the trumpets in particular possessing an aural glare that adds another sort of fatigue to our impatience with the uninspired conducting and paralytic unfolding of the ritual. Someone in another review mentioned the 1951 Bayreuth recording, and Knappertsbusch, though his tempi are often very slow, had what Jordan altogether lacks, a sense of pulse, a feeling for the ebb and flow of the music -- and, after half a century, the orchestral sound in that set, in modern pressings, is still superior to this film.