There was a time when westerns had ridden off into the sunset. In the 1980s, the genre was fading, a relic of black-and-white afternoons and grandpas' tales. But then, out of nowhere, a group of young, smirking, gun-slinging rebels brought it all roaring back to life.
I'm talking about Young Guns and Young Guns II. And if you were there when they hit theaters, you know exactly what I'm talking about. The vibe was electric. The soundtracks were pumping. The posters were plastered on bedroom walls. It wasn't just a movie—it was a whole moment in pop culture.
I was a teenager when the first Young Guns dropped in 1988. I remember walking into that theater with a bucket of popcorn and a group of friends, not really sure what to expect. Emilio Estevez as Billy the Kid? Charlie Sheen in a cowboy hat? Kiefer Sutherland as a poet with a pistol? Sign us up.
At the time, the Brat Pack had pretty much taken over Hollywood. Emilio, Charlie, Kiefer, Lou Diamond Phillips, Dermot Mulroney, and Casey Siemaszko—they weren’t just actors, they were icons. They were our James Deans, our Paul Newmans. And here they were, in a western.
It was like The Outsiders met The Magnificent Seven, and it worked.
And remember, this was the tail end of the Reagan era. 1988. George H. W. Bush was about to be elected President. America was in the middle of a Cold War hangover, trying to figure out what came next. MTV ruled the airwaves. Michael Jackson’s Bad was still in heavy rotation. Guns N' Roses were tearing up the charts with Appetite for Destruction. We were living in a time of neon lights, shoulder pads, and mixtapes.
And then Young Guns shows up like a dust-covered outlaw kicking open the saloon doors.
It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t old-fashioned. It was rowdy. Violent. Stylish. And somehow, still managed to be rooted in real history.
That’s what made it so cool.
Billy the Kid wasn’t some marble statue of American folklore anymore. He was Emilio—sharp, reckless, with a grin that said, "Yeah, I just shot that guy, what are you gonna do about it?"
We were obsessed.
You couldn’t go to school without hearing someone quote the film. “I’ll make you famous.” That line was everywhere. It was like a cowboy version of “Say hello to my little friend.”
And the vibe didn’t end at the theater doors. We carried it with us. We reenacted scenes with cap guns in the backyard. We fought over who got to be Chavez. And the soundtrack—oh man, that soundtrack—was on repeat.
By the time Young Guns II came around in 1990, it wasn’t just a sequel—it was an event.
This time around, we had Christian Slater joining the mix. William Petersen as Pat Garrett. And of course, the return of Emilio, more unhinged and iconic than ever.
But the biggest surprise? Blaze of Glory.
Jon Bon Jovi didn’t just contribute a song—he delivered an anthem.
“Shot down in a blaze of glory!” We were screaming those lyrics out the car window. It hit #1 on the Billboard charts and was nominated for an Oscar. That song was 1990. It still gives me chills.
And let's not forget Warren G and Nate Dogg’s Regulate in 1994. It wasn't officially tied to the Young Guns movies, but it sampled Young Guns dialogue, and the name-drop—"Regulators! Mount up!"—was an instant portal back to those movies. It was another generation claiming that same spirit, that same outlaw vibe.
So there we were, a bunch of kids with our world changing fast. The Soviet Union was collapsing. Berlin Wall came down in '89. Desert Storm was brewing. And in the middle of it all, we had these two movies that made us feel like maybe, just maybe, we could stand for something. Even if it was just loyalty to our crew. Even if it was just about living by your own code.
Because that’s what Young Guns was about, wasn’t it? Loyalty. Friendship. Chaos. Living fast and dying young. And doing it all with style.
And now, all these years later, we hear that Young Guns III is happening.
Are you kidding me?
We’re grown up now. We’ve got jobs, families, bills. Some of us have lost that spark we had when we were kids, yelling “Regulators!” across the playground. But hearing that the gang might be getting back together? That maybe we get one more ride?
It’s like a spark in dry grass. That same excitement is back.
And you better believe we’ll be in the theater, hats tilted low, popcorn in hand, ready to ride again.
Because Young Guns wasn’t just a movie. It was a moment. And for some of us, it still is.
