ONCE UPON A time in Texas, there was a young man called Robert Rodriguez. A tyro barely out of his teens, with dreams of following in the footsteps of multi-hyphenate moviemakers like John Carpenter. To manifest those dreams, he begged, borrowed and took part in medical experiments in order to shoot his first movie, the Spanish-language action movie El Mariachi, just across the border, with his best friend Carlos Gallardo in the title role. Rodriguez didn’t have a DP, or a sound guy, or an editor, or a camera operator, or anyone. As his must-read book on guerrilla filmmaking says, he was a rebel without a crew. Well, he was the crew. The very best boy.
Then, something unexpected happened. El Mariachi, which cost around $7,000, exploded. Columbia bought it,…