Django (1966)

Director: Sergio Corbucci

An OK second-tier spaghetti Western, clearly aping the style so inimitably pioneered by Sergio Leone a few years prior.

The movie follows Django, a mysterious and lethal drifter who drags around a coffin everywhere he goes. When Django wanders into a town, he finds himself quickly caught between two feuding groups - one a gang of Mexican revolutionaries and the other a crew of ex-Confederate soldiers. Django rescues a young woman, Maria, from one side, and soon is shifting his allegiances between groups, eventually including a group of bank robbers, to serve his own ends. In the end, he cunningly kills off his adversaries and drags his wounded self off to begin a new life with Maria.

Django is decent enough fare for the genre, but I can't say it spurred any desire to watch more of its ilk. I absolutely love Sergio Leone's "Man With No Name" movies, along with his others. But as much as I love them, I also realize how ultimately silly they can be in certain respects, and it's only in the hands of a narrative and cinematic master that one can easily look beyond those films' weaknesses in terms of emotional depth or complexity. Django does a nice job using solid film technique to capture that same hyper-colored-yet-dusty aesthetic of Leone's movies, and it even has a few of the clever plot devices of those earlier movies. But it doesn't all come together or have quite the complete sense of coherence of the originals.

This was apparently a huge movie, though, Maybe not quite as big, worldwide, as Leone's westerns, but big enough to spawn a ton of sequel films, starring quite a few different actors in the lead roles. It really was like a spaghetti western Jame Bond kind of franchise through the 1960s and 1970s, and even hanging on well beyond that, with the most obvious recent incarnation being Quentin Tarantino's version of the character, starring Jamie Foxx. With this in mind, I would recommend it to those who love the look and feel of A Fistful of Dollars and its semi-sequels enough that they want more of the same. For my part, I won't be going out of my way to take in more of them. 

Retro Trio: My Big Fat Greek Wedding (2002); The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007); Mud (2012)

My Big Fat Greek Wedding (2002)

Director: Joel Zwick

No, rom-com fans, I had never actually seen this one before now. While I won't say that I regret letting all these years pass without seeing it, I can certainly see why it was such a sleeper hit 15 years ago.

For those unfamiliar, the story follows Toula, a 30-year old, single Greek-American woman whose massive, boisterous family shares a stifling concern over her state of being a bachelorette. When Toula does find a man whom she loves, Ian, things get no easier due to the fact that he is not of Greek descent, a situation which Toula's grecophile family can hardly wrap their minds around. The rest of the movie is mostly a comedy of errors and culture clashes between Ian and Toula's smothering but warm family. Ian comes from a laughably quiet, poised family composed of only himself and his overly stoic WASP parents, whereas Toula's family is a virtual army of caring and passionate but nosy and noisy siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends.

The movie is certainly fun enough, and I was pleasantly surprised at how efficiently the story is told. While it hits the standard marks expected of a rom-com, it often comes at them from different angles and never really belabors the more familiar points. One example is the self-improvement montage, where Toula decides to "go from drab to fab" by redoing her wardrobe, hair, and makeup. I feel that other movies emphasize these types of makeovers and scenes too much, but Greek Wedding offers it to us in a crisp, less-than-60 seconds sequence that makes its point and then moves on. This is one of several examples of strong pacing which keep things moving along, an essential element of good comedies.

The cast is a great asset, as well. The script is decent enough, and all of the actors get to show off their comic timing to great effect. Not every gag or line hits, but enough of them do to keep the movie worthwhile. I'll probably never be a person who goes out of my way to watch a rom-com like this, but I enjoyed this one, and I could see myself watching it again with my wife.

Side Note: My wife recently tried to watch the sequel which came out last year, and she barely made it to the 5-minute mark. She said it was that bad. Apparently it was just trotting out the same, 14-year old gags and was generally annoying to her. This begs the question, if the film makers wanted to just do a stale, unoriginal sequel as a cash grab, why wait 14 years to do it?

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)

Director: Andrew Dominik

A rather novel entry into the list of American Western movies, and one whose box office draw fell far short of its merits.

As the lengthy title suggests, the film focuses on the final few years and ultimate slaying of notorious 19th century outlaw Jesse James. Unlike most Westerns, though, this one eschews glamorizing the best-known characters or relying on fast-paced, action-based thrills. Instead, the movie is a slow meditation on the eerie expansiveness of the West, the warped and often despicable character of Jesse James, and the gradual erosion of Robert Ford's romanticization of the infamous thief and killer.

Using the source novel of the same name, the  movie tells of the relationship between the two title characters. Around the late 1870s, Jesse James (Brad Pitt) and his gang have all but ceased the robberies which made them known throughout the U.S. and even the world, but they still hold a mythical appeal in many places. Robert Ford (Casey Affleck) is a young Missourian who has long idolized James, and he finally gets his chance to be a member of his gang during one, mostly-unsuccessful, train robbery. James has family ties in the area, and he uses them to wrangle cousins and other hangers-on into his schemes, even if nearly all of them come to nothing. Ford, as one of these hopefuls, begins to see James for what he is - a mentally unstable, volatile, and sometimes murderous fiend. James is still able to be charming and charismatic at times, but they do not always cover up the far darker aspects of his nature. Over several years of acquaintance, Robert Ford eventually volunteers to kill James on behalf of the governor of Missouri, hoping that he will be hailed as a hero. Such is not necessarily the case, however, as many still incorrectly viewed James as a Robin Hood of the West. This leads many to see Ford as an underhanded scoundrel who merely killed a righteous outlaw for his own personal gain.

In several ways, this movie is not unlike Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven, in that it strips away the glamour often associated with the brutality and violence of the 19th century U.S. "Wild" West. The film does a brilliant job in depicting Jesse James as a charmer who can put his good looks and articulateness to his own selfish uses, while at the same time showing just how brutal and paranoid he is. The movie also takes the bold and effective mood of focusing more on Robert Ford and his growing disillusionment at James. Not relying on simple, pat turns of plot, the story is subtle and gradual with the erosion of Ford's romanticism of his boyhood hero. Ford is never vilified or hailed, per se, but is shown as a man who is almost helplessly swept up by powers and individuals who are simply stronger than he. When he does decide to take action for himself, seeing how it unfolds is a borderline tragedy.

The Wyeth-esque landscapes are often just as eerie as the
murderous outlaws that roam them.

The acting is outstanding. This was Casey Affleck's true breakout role as the confused Robert Ford, and it's no surprise that he has since garnered more praise for his leading roles in movies like Gone, Baby, Gone and Manchester by the Sea. Brad Pitt also turns in one of his more understated yet highly effective performances as the infamous Jesse James. The supporting cast is also stocked with strong actors, some easily recognizable such as Jeremy Renner and Sam Rockwell, and others less known.

As much as the story and acting, though, is the setting and cinematography. Like some of the greatest westerns, The Assassination of Jesse James uses the openness and quiet of the time and place to build an often eerie sense of loneliness. Compared to later and modern eras, time and space seemed to have a near-eternal quality that can be imposing, to say the least. When you consider how friends and neighbors in the area would routinely go weeks and months without seeing or hearing from each other, the isolation is daunting. When you add in the fact that an unpredictable, homicidal killer is stalking the plains, then you have the stuff of nightmares. Director Andrew Dominik uses this to great effect, along with the cinematography. Certain shots use grainy or fuzzy peripherals that enhance a sense of blurred perspective, which is in keeping with the distorted and shifting views of Robert Ford, a fractured character whose warped feelings towards James are at the heart of the film.

I may not feel the need to watch this movie again, but I now consider it among some of the very best Western films of all time. Highly recommended for those who enjoy creative film-making, and especially the Western genre.

Ellis and Mud figuring each other out on the island. The
relationship between the two is the crux of the movie, although
their feelings towards others is just as important.

Mud (2012)

Director: Jeff Nichols

While it didn't meet my lofty expectations, Mud is a solid and compelling movie.

Taking place on a river in Arkansas, the movie follows two 14-year old local boys who discover an odd man (Matthew McConaughey) squatting on a small nearby island where the boys are looking to scavenge any flotsam and jetsam which the river has washed up. The man gives his name only as "Mud," and the boys take to running odd little errands for him on the Arkansas mainland, getting him food and bringing messages to a young woman to whom Mud has some mysterious dedication. The boys soon learn that local police are searching for Mud in connection with a murder in Texas. One of the boys, Ellis (Tye Sheridan), is a budding romantic who desperately wants to see Mud as a kindred spirit who has done unsavory things in the name of love. This becomes more and more difficult, however, as facts about Mud's past emerge. The tension cranks up wildly when a group of bounty hunters arrive in the area, looking to kill Mud on the orders of the murdered man's powerful and vindictive father.

This is now the third movie of director Jeff Nichols which I've seen, and it was his third film after his debut Shotgun Stories and the incredible follow-up Take Shelter. Mud is much more like the former, as it uses the setting of rural/suburban Arkansas to great effect, offering a very authentic sense of place and the people in it and telling a fairly straightforward story. Whereas Shotgun Stories was more toned-down, humanist drama, however, Mud uses elements from more popular genres like mystery, suspense, and action. The latter two elements actually weaken the film just a bit, in my view, mostly because they stand in rather stark contrast to the more genuine, emotional story of Ellis. Ellis's attempts to find love with an older girl in the area are the most touching and organic aspect of the entire movie. While it wouldn't have been enough to carry this film, it bears a genuineness that makes the more sensational and plot-driven elements feel a tad cheap.

Woven into the tale is the general sense of a childhood and youth being lost before our eyes. At the beginning of the movie, we learn that Ellis's parents are having marital difficulties. Though hardly the only reason, a major issue is that the family is almost certain to lose their house boat, which doubles as the source of his father's income as a fisherman. Ellis's desperation to flee from the disintegration of his parents' marriage, as well as their life on the river, plays a major part in why he becomes drawn to Mud. While not always completely subtle about these connections, the movie doesn't beat you over the head with it, and it does build some worthy cohesion between what could otherwise have been a very fragmented tale. This sort of cohesive storytelling seems to be a strength of Jeff Nichols, based on the three movies of his which I've seen.

I think that the only reason that I was slightly underwhelmed by this movie is that I saw it too long after it came out over four years ago. It was a well-received movie, to be sure, but it was also the true beginning of the "McConaughssaince," during which Matthew McConaughey reinvented himself as more than just an easy-going Texas dude with six-pack abs and a pretty face, cashing checks from rom-cam royalties. Within the next two years, he would receive tons of acclaim for his roles in Dallas Buyers' Club and especially True Detective, and even a few smaller cameo roles here and there. By the time I saw Mud, I had built this movie up in my mind to be an all-time great, which is unfair to expect of any film. Though it didn't (and perhaps couldn't) meet my unreasonable expectations, this is one that I can easily recommend to nearly anyone. There are a few flaws to be fussed over, but it is another solid effort from one of the U.S.'s best young filmmakers today. 

Retro Trio: The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976); Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! (1989); Shotgun Stories (2007)

The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976)

Director: Clint Eastwood

Still one of the all-time great Westerns, even if its flaws show a bit more, these forty years later.

One of Clint Eastwood's earlier directorial efforts, Josey Wales tells the story of the title character, a Missouri farmer whose wife and child are brutally butchered by a vicious platoon of "Redlegs" - a gang of Union mercenaries - during the United States Civil War. Wales takes up his gun, joins a Confederate militia, and starts fighting the Union with a bloody vengeance. His pain over his loss is so great that, even when the war ends, he refuses to surrender his guns or himself. Instead, he goes on the run, feeling that he cannot let the burden of his anger go. Although the traumatized and jaded Wales tries his best not to make any connections with other people, he can't seem to help slowly building a retinue of followers, all of whom he saves from one threat or another. Try as he might to suppress it, some small shred of humanity and empathy keeps breaking through and inspiring an odd loyalty from a motley crew of the disaffected.

While there may be a few warts that pop up here and there, this is still a titan of a Western - one which I would place among the top 3 all time. This is one of those great films that incorporates nearly everything that audiences enjoy about a particular genre of film, while turning many of its conventions on their heads. In the case of Josey Wales, we get the makings of a grand revenge tale, and even a satisfying exacting of that revenge. However, the unexpected portion is how Wales's revenge upon the Redlegs becomes secondary to his accidental rediscovery of his own humanity and desire to live. The first act of the movie follows fairly conventional lines - Wales is so consumed with rage over his wife and child's murders that he refuses to surrender, even in the face of overwhelming odds of the Union army. It certainly seems easy to see where the tale will then go: Wales will outsmart and outgun his enemies until he gains satisfaction. Although he certianly does that, to an entertaining extent, it becomes secondary to the underlying struggle within him to find some reason to bother living. It was one of the few Westerns that touched on the true darkness and nihilism of pure vengeance, even when it may be righteous. This gives the story a much stiffer backbone than nearly all of its genre brethren.

Chief Dan George's performance as Watie is the standout
among several excellent supporting turns in this movie.
Wales's unique character is cast into greater light in the
presence of such centered companions.

But the film offers much more than cool gunfights and an existential struggle. The largest part of Wales's recovery of his soul is the oddball entourage which assembles around him. As he flees past Union forces towards Texas, he first encounters Lone Watie, an elderly Cherokee who seems to have given up most of his hope in life. Still, he maintains a bone dry sense of humor. When Wales doesn't kill him out of hand, Watie senses something honorable about the stoic gunman and decides to join him. Though Wales seems mildly annoyed by the native's company, he doesn't discourage it. Played brilliantly by Chief Dan George, Watie provides an amazing levity and heart to the film, while transcending and avoiding so many of the misrepresentations that Hollywood films constructed of Native Americans over the previous many decades. His lines, thanks in no small way to George's delivery, are just as funny and powerful now as they were 40 years ago.

And Watie is just the first of several characters through whom we sense the change in Wales. By the time he reaches Texas, Watie and George have also picked up a young Navajo woman, a cranky and tough old woman from Kansas, and her misty-eyed daughter. Though it is never stated in so many words, it is through this motley group that Wales finds a reason to live. And just when we are led to believe that we will witness a classic "cowboy versus Indian" showdown between Wales and the infamous war chief Ten Bears, the movie flips the script again and gives us an intense meeting which results in a truce between the two fierce warriors. Of course, we do get a larger-scale gunfight towards the end, but it is between Wales's new family and the vicious Redlegs who come after him. This provides a nice sense of classic revenge satisfaction, while righting some of the wrongs of so many past Westerns. Having a more diverse collection of  white people banded with a couple of Natives and fighting off an entire group of violent whites said something that no Western had completely tried to say before about cooperation and redemption.

As with nearly any movie, I can nitpick here and there, especially with movies that are four decades old. But I would rather limit this review to the many great things about this one. I think that, all told, Clint Eastwood has been major parts in all of the handful of transformative modern Westerns. Between playing Sergio Leone's "Man With No Name" in the mid-'60s, to directing and starring in The Outlaw Josie Wales in 1976, and finally doing the same with Unforgiven, I have a difficult time imagining just how anyone could ever again be at the heart of revolutionizing such a prominent genre of film.


Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! (1989)

Original Spanish Title: Atame! 

Director: Pedro Almodovar

This seems to be the film where Almodovar started to tell stories that wandered a bit further into uncomfortable territory, while still maintaining a generally humorous tone.

The movie centers on Spanish movie actress Marina, a former porn actress who now stars in campy but more mainstream horror movies. Unbeknownst to Marina, a former one-night-stand of hers - Ricky (Antonio Banderas) - has just been released from a psychiatric hospital where he has been receiving therapy for stalking. Ricky is still obsessed with Marina, and he immediately kidnaps her in her own apartment, ties her up, and tries to convince her of his love and desire for them to be married and have a family. She is initially horrified by his bizarre obsession, but eventually comes to love his dedication.

This was the fifth Almodovar movie I've seen, but the only earlier one I'd seen was Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown. While that earlier movie was almost pure comedy, with a slight dash of darkness, Tie Me Up! seems to offer the most obvious clues as to the very uncomfortable places that many of Almodovar's movie would eventually go. While it is not nearly as challenging as Talk to Her, this one looks at obsession and desire in ways that viewers are likely to struggle with. Though many of the odd interactions between Ricky and the captive Marina can be humorous, there is a disturbing quality in how Marina eventually comes to love her captor. This, despite his physical and sometimes psychological abuse of her while he keeps her as his prisoner. One could argue that Ricky's dedication is some twisted form of true love, but it seems that an equally strong argument can be made for it being thoroughly selfish as well. Yet another notion is that both people are possessed of skewed and warped perceptions of what constitutes healthy relationships, and so are actually well-suited for each other. Such is the nature of Almodovar's movies: while they may follow familiar narrative frameworks, the characters operating within them are far from traditional ones. This is what makes them so unique and fascinating, if not exactly easy to watch at all times.

As with other Almodovar movies I've seen, it is impossible to guess exactly where the story will lead. Given how many films stick with conventional themes and storylines, it is amazing that one director and writer can continue to make compelling, challenging, and in many ways beautiful movies that stand apart from all others. This one is probably not the best "starter" movie for someone who hasn't seen any of Almodovar's movies before, but it will certainly please fans of his other movies.

Shotgun Stories (2007)

Director: Jeff Nichols

An amazing directorial debut that proves that strong drama is not only to be found in big budget movies set in large cities.

Shotgun Stories tells the tale of a small but nasty feud that breaks out between two sets of half-brothers in modern day Arkansas. One group, comprised of the three brothers Son (Michael Shannon), Boy, and Kid, are the trio abandoned by their abusive father so that he could start a new life and family. This father also changed his ways enough to become a decent parent to his two new sons - Cleaman and Mark - by his second wife. When their father dies, Son leads his younger brothers to the funeral, where he berates the dead man right in front of his second family. This sparks a feud between the sons that escalates in dangerous speed and intensity.

The movie is an expert blend of captivating character study, environment, and the theme of parents' sins living on in their children. The eldest brother Son is a stoic man who may not always have the best judgement, but who has a sense of guardianship over his brothers. None of the three is particularly successful at anything. In fact, they live in near-poverty, but they do all have an earnest desire to help and support each other. From Son's perspective, this means not allowing their abusive father to be buried before he voices his view that the man abandoned them and scarred them irrevocably. When this leads to serious conflict, Son and especially his youngest brother Kid are willing to fight for each other in every way possible. None of this ancient tribalism feels the least bit contrived, to the point that it is nestled right into the rural Arkansas landscapes and neighborhoods where the story takes place.

There is a very authentic quiet to many of the scenes that can vascillate between serene and terrible. This is a quality which I've found in other well done dramas done in the rural South, such as Badlands and others. It also helps punctuate the drama and emotion that breaks out when tensions run high and violence erupts. Several of these scenes, such as a fistfight at a carwash, would likely seem small-scale if it took place within a big budget film in a large city. In Shotgun Stories, though, it bears every inch of tension of a classic gunfight, but with the added layer of genuine emotion that is rarely found in mythical standoffs of the Wild West.

The dramatic turns in the movie feel completely organic, and the resolution is one that may surprise. To this point, now several weeks after I watched the movie, I am still mulling over just what the ending suggests. It is that atypical and thought-provoking. I highly recommend this one to those who enjoy small-scale, well-crafted drama. 

Before I Die #519: The Great Train Robbery (1903)

*This is the 519th film that I've seen from the 1,149 "Before You Die" list that I'm working through.

Director: Edwin S. Porter

Really just a curiosity for film history buffs, this one.

There's really not much to it. I've embedded the entire thing from youtube, so no real need for me to describe it, other than tell you that it depicts a train heist, and then a chase.

From what I've learned, this film was massively influential for being one of the earliest "chase" films of high quality, employing steady action, a camera that follows said action, impressive stunts, and creative editing to tell a complete story. It is also credited with probably being the very first film Western. It laid the basic groundwork for action films that would follow it for decades.

The opening 2 minutes does a nice job explaining how novel and creative this film was in 1903. Still, don't expect to be overly impressed. I would suggest, though, if nothing else, jump to the 5:45 mark to get a good laugh at the beat down and ejection of the "train operator."

Kind of fun, right?

*519 films seen; only 630 to go...

Film # 91: Unforgiven (1992)

Director: Clint Eastwood

Initial Release Country: United States

Times Previously Seen: around five or six

Rapid-Fire Summary

In the small town of Big Whiskey, Montana, in 1881, a cowhand becomes enraged at a prostitute named Delilah over a minor insult and slashes her face. Despite calls from Delilah’s fellow prostitutes that the cowhand and his companion be hanged, the sheriff, “Little Bill” (Gene Hackman) merely demands that the two boys pay the proprietor of the saloon/cathouse in the form of horses. The furious prostitutes then secretly pool their money and start spreading word of a bounty for anyone who kills the two cowboys.

To the south, in Kansas, a brash young man calling himself “The Schofield Kid” finds the middle-aged farmer William Munny and asks him to partner up to kill the cowboys for the bounty. The Kid has heard from that Munny was once a fearless and vicious killer who would make a perfect partner for such a dark deed. Munny, now a widower who has forsworn his previously murderous life and with two young children to support, at first refuses The Kid. With his farm failing, though, he changes his mind. He convinces one of his old partners, Ned (Morgan Freeman), to join him on this final killing in order to have a new start for his children.

Will Munny, a brutal killer in the past, now struggles on his farm with his two your children.

Back in Big Whiskey, Little Bill has now heard of the bounty put out and brutally beats and casts out the first bounty hunter who drifts into town to inquire after it – the noted gunman “English” Bob (Richard Harris). When the Kid, Will, and Ned come into town some days after, Will is himself beaten by Little Bill, while Ned and The Kid escape. The three rally themselves and set out after the first of the two cowboys, undeterred by Little Bill’s edict against assassins. When they find the cowboy, however, Ned is unable to bring himself to kill him. Will instead takes Ned’s rifle and shoots the cowboy dead. Ned, realizing that he no longer has what it takes to kill a man, parts ways with Will and The Kid, with Will promising to bring Ned his share of the bounty after the job is finished.

Will and The Kid then find the second cowboy, who actually cut up Delilah, holed up at the ranch he works on. The Kid kills the cowboy and the two make a narrow escape. When Will and The Kid return to just outside of Big Whiskey to collect the bounty, however, they discover that Ned has been captured, tortured, and killed. Suddenly overcome by a dark cloud of vengeance, Will plies himself with alcohol and rides into town alone. Calmly walking into the saloon where Ned’s corpse is prominently displayed outside, Will coldly kills six men, including the saloon owner, four deputies, and Little Bill himself. Though plenty of the townspeople are still alive to stop Will from leaving, they are all too terrified of the killer to even make the attempt.

Will, in Skinny's saloon as he slays all those he feels are responsible for Ned's death. During these moments, all traces of the quiet, tortured farmer have been burned away.

We are told in the end that Will returned to his farm and used his bounty money to move himself and his children away, possible to California where he “prospered in dry goods.”

My Take on the Film (Done after this most recent viewing):

Unforgiven is, in my mind, the greatest Western film. There are others that are more exciting and entertaining, but this one has by far the most depth and arguably the greatest acting.

Clint Eastwood’s masterpiece probably couldn’t have been made much earlier than it was. Being a deconstruction of the mythical West and Western stories, it required all of the popular lore that preceded it, both in literature and film. Eastwood set out tell a story that took a dark and realistic look into the souls of truly dangerous men in the old West, and he did it with expert precision.

At the heart of the film are all of the popular notions of the “Wild West” gunslinger. The mythology around that time and place has been the inspiration for countless tales of adventure for well over a century. The archetypal “deadly guman” has long been one of the most attractive characters in U.S. narrative. Unforgiven gives voice to this attraction through the character Beauchamp, a bumbling fiction writer who at first is following around English Bob as his biographer. His stories of Bob cast him as a noble warrior whose skills with a pistol make him a modern-day knight. Once Bob is thrashed and imprisoned by Little Bill, however, the myth starts to fall apart.

English Bob, left, and his biographer, Beauchamp. It is initially through these two characters that the myths of honorable gunfighters are taken apart.

It is during the scenes between Little Bill and Beauchamp, with English Bob watching from his cell, that we start to get at the reality of killers. With his first-hand knowledge of Bob, Little Bill tears apart Beauchamp’s notions of his idol. We soon see that Bob, though a truly dangerous gunman, is actually a vicious murderer unworthy of any admiration.

But the deconstruction of English Bob is only a prelude. It is with the tale of Will Munny that the truly disturbing truths about gunfighters emerge. With incredible pacing, Munny’s regression from penitent farmer back to unrepentant killer is as captivating as it is terrifying. For most of the film, Munny’s murderous past is merely hinted at, through stories told by other characters such as The Schofield Kid and even Will’s riding partner, Ned. As each bloody story is revealed, Munny tries to assure Ned and himself that he, “ain’t like that no more.” Watching him cling to the new self into which his dead wife molded him is like watching a time bomb trying to diffuse itself.

During his arrival at Bog Whiskey, Munny is still tortured and ill. It's almost as if his modern, peaceful self is slowly coming apart under the burden of trying to keep his homicidal nature at bay.

Any doubt about Munny is removed about halfway through the film, upon the death of the first cowboy. When Ned is unable to pull the trigger, Munny reverts to form. Without blinking, he takes the rifle from Ned’s uncertain hands, takes aim, and kills the young man. It is now clear that, while Ned truly has left his homicidal past behind him, Munny still possesses a true murderer's instinct. As if the contrast between Ned and Munny isn’t enough, is becomes all the more clear when Munny allow The Kid, eager for a kill, to execute the second cowboy later. After the deed is done, The Kid shakily admits that, contrary to his prior boasting, it was his first kill. The Kid is all too aware of the difference between himself and Munny, stating, “I ain’t like you Will.” Will’s response is right at the heart of the film – “It’s a hell of a thing, killin’ a man. You take away everything he’s got and everything he’s ever gonna have.” The Kid then swears off guns and killing for the rest of his life.

It is then, in the final ten minutes of the movie, that we see the true horror of William Munny. After he is told of Ned’s death, a terrifying transformation takes place. For most of the story, Will has been the picture of anguished restraint. He has refused to take a drop of alcohol and has only killed the two cowboys condemned by the bounty. However, when he learns that his friend has been tortured, killed, and put on display, his previous decade of temperance thoroughly vanishes. A cold fire alights in his eyes, his teeth clench, and he grabs a whiskey bottle and methodically starts to drink. By the time he enters the saloon at nightfall, he is Vengeance personified. In front of the group of puzzled and uncertain deputies and other town residents, he brutally shoots the saloon owner, Skinny. Even then, the deputies are clearly too frightened to try and bring down Munny. Even when they do gather their wits and try to square off against him, Munny is too calm under fire to be brought down. By doing little more than keeping his composure, he proceeds to shoot the five men remaining with weapons in their hands. The writer Beauchamp, who has been cowering in a corner and witnesses everything, then tries to question Munny on his “strategy.” Munny debunks any notion of skill or strategy by simple saying, “I was lucky…I’ve always been lucky when it comes to killin’ folks.” With this line, there is nothing left to be lauded in Munny’s actions, not even any kind of “skill.” Like English Bob, he is a mass murderer, though an uncommonly effective one.

Munny's execution of Little Bill. It may be one of the coldest, most haunting killings in all of film. 

Following the rapid departure of Beauchamp, Munny then steps up to Little Bill, who has been wounded but is not dead. Little Bill looks up at Will Munny, and instead of begging or pleading, simply says, “I don’t deserve to die like this.” Munny stares him in the face and delivers perhaps the most haunting line of the film when he proclaims, “Deserve’s got nothin’ to do with it.” At this moment, Munny is no longer even a spirit of vengeance. He is death itself. Unfeeling. Unthinking. Uncaring of right or wrong.

Those final lines, and others like them in the film, are what set Unforgiven apart. The only other Western I know of that even came close to taking such a hard look at the makeup of the Western gunfighter was The Searchers, with John Wayne. However, The Searchers still had a solid dose of romantic hokum blended into it, and it’s not nearly as even in execution as Unforgiven. Clint Eastwood directed this movie as well as anything he’s ever done, encompassing all of the things that make Western films great, while adding unprecedented philosophical depth.

The story and characters are undoubtedly what make the movie great, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least briefly mention its other merits. The cinematography is incredible, with all of the gorgeous wide-angle shots that you could hope for in a sweeping Western. Even more is the acting. Clint Eastwood does a fine enough job, and it helped that the character Will Munny didn’t call for any spectacular range of emotions (not Eastwood’s forte). The standout performances are Morgan Freeman and Gene Hackman, the latter of whom justifiably raked in a ton of awards for his turn as Little Bill. But even the smaller roles are all played perfectly, from Richard Harris as English Bob right down to the lowly prostitutes and townspeople.

Little Bill, in front of the townspeople of Big Whiskey. Just as important to the tone of the movie, the smaller roles all convey very realistic reactions to violence and death - rage, frustration, and fear.

When I think about Unforgiven as a whole, one thing I often come back to is the notion of freedom. For fans of Western tales, it is often the sense of freedom that is most appealing. The wide-open spaces of the old West have always been thought of as places where a person is free from the restrictions and expectations of “civilized” society. We often assume that this is essentially a positive thing, as it allows a person to be whoever they want to be or discover who they really are. This is a beautiful idea, if you assume that the person you really are is one to be loved and admired. But what if who you really are is someone as terrifying as William Munny? What if, in spite of your every effort to escape it in the quiet, isolated, wind-swept plains of Kansas, you are something that frightens yourself to your very soul? I don’t know if this is one of the intended themes of the film, but it is one that stays with me.

Additional Note: I came across the news that there is currently under production a remake of Unforgiven, set in feudal Japan and starring Ken Watanabe as the "Will Munny" character. Normally, I would be disgusted at the thought of a remake of Unforgiven; however, I can see the potential for a samurai setting to be very successful. I hope they can pull it off.

That’s a wrap. 91 shows down, 14 to go.

Coming Soon: Leolo (1992)

Don’t know anything about this one, but I’m guessing it doesn’t involve Clint Eastwood, ruminations on murder, or and Englishman getting his ass whipped. You never know, though…

Please be sure to pick up all empties on the way out.

Film #67: Xia Nu (1971)

Title for us English-Types: The Dignified Lady, a.k.a. A Touch of Zen

Director: King Hu

Initial Release Country: Taiwan

Times Previously Seen: none

Teaser Summary (No spoilers)

Chinese scholar helps a young woman deal with corrupt government officials who pursue her. Many people brandish swords and jump really high.

Extended Summary (Slightly longer plot synopsis. Spoilers included.)

In a small village in Ming Dynasty China, a young man named Ku lives a humble life. He is an artist and a scholar who ekes out a living doing portraits and scribing. The only seeming worry is his mother, who constantly badgers him about his bachelorhood and apparent lack of ambition for more prominent work within the government.

Within a short span, several strangers appear in the town: Doctor Lu, the blind fortune-teller Shih, a government official named Ouyang, and the young woman Ying. The very private and rarely-seen Ying actually moves into the supposedly haunted fort next to Ku's ramshackle home, which is part of a larger dilapidated and disused castle.

Over the next several days, it becomes clear to Ku that each of the newcomers is hiding something beneath their simple public personas. After a few moments of mystery and suspense, Ku learns that Ying, whose real name is Yang, is the daughter of a former magistrate who was going to inform the emperor of massive corruption. The primary figure involved in the corruption is someone known as “Eunuch Wei”, who intercepted Yang's father and had him tortured to death. Yang flees with two trusted generals – Shih and Lu – until they find refuge in the monastery of fighting Buddhist monks and remain there for two years.

Back in the present, Ku and Yang share an evening in each other's arms. Shortly after, Ku helps Yang and her two general protectors to lure Eunuch Wei's forces into a trap. Using local superstition and his own mechanical contrivances, Ku entices hundreds of Wei's forces, led by corrupt local officials, into the “haunted” fort and methodically lays waste to them with various traps. His plan is executed brilliantly, but he finds that Yang has fled the morning after their night-time victory.

Yang, Ku, and the generals trek through the jungle. You can bet that bodies and blades will be soaring through the air, shortly.

Ku, over several months, tracks Yang back to the monastery where she previously was sheltered. Before he can ascend the monastery mountain and find her, though, a monk brings down a newborn child – the result of his single night with Yang. With the child is a note from Yang asking that she not be disturbed, for she seeks permanent solitude in the monastery. Ku, dejected, begins to take the child home.

Ku and his infant son do not get far when he is accosted by a small band of soldiers, headed by Hsu Hsen-Chen, the brutal and powerful leader of Eunuch Wei's forces. Before Hsu can take Ku, however, Yang and the monastery's master, Abbot Hui, intercede. The immensely powerful yet impassive Hui uses his remarkable martial skills to eventually subdue and dispatch the considerable might of Hsu, though not before receiving a mortal wound at his hands.

In the end, the wounded but living Ku and Yang look on as Abbot Hui struggles to ascend a nearby rock formation. Hui sits in a lotus pose and becomes one with Buddha.

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (Done after this one viewing, before any research on the movie.)

This movie is as good as I can imagine a kung-fu movie getting, which tells me that kung-fu movies just are not my thing.

A Touch of Zen has a ton going for it, which is good since it clocks in at over three full hours. There are plenty of compelling things that will enthrall a viewer, as they did me. The movie blends several strong components with a style that, though familiar, takes on a different feel due to the unique setting. However, after a certain point, the genre elements of the movie became rather dull.

The movie is divided into two parts, as most 180-plus-minute movies are, and the division is not just temporal. The very style of the movie changes drastically between the first and second parts. When dwelling on the first part of the movie, I can't help but think of the previous movie that I reviewed for this blog, Once Upon a Time In the West. Like that and other Leone films, A Touch of Zen begins with very deliberate, quiet pacing. It allows the viewer to passively drink in the scenery, the characters, and everything about the setting. I found this enjoyable since the director, King Hu (yes, that was his name – your sophomoric joke here), had a real eye for camera placement. I don't know if he was a student of Sergio Leone's films, but the parallels are hard to miss. Plenty of wide-angle shots cut with close-ups, featuring the vibrant faces and varying landscapes catch the eye throughout the film.

Many of these earlier scenes in the village create a great feel for the little place, not unlike Sergio Leone's Westerns.

Another great strength of the first half of the film is revelations about the various mysterious characters. It takes well over an hour to get the whole story of Uoyang, Ying and the generals, but until you do, the intrigue makes for great theater. I also found it great that a lot of the suspicions and enigmas are, initially, merely hinted at through looks and gestures rather than superfluous dialogue.

Hu definitely took a slow-burn approach to this, and I loved the way that it inched its way into the movie. It starts with a small attack between two people. To this point, there has been nothing outlandish in the film. Suddenly, in the midst of a fight, two fellows are deflecting daggers with their bare hands and leaping ten to twenty feet in the air off of tree branches. These initial dashes of the supernatural work well within the movie early on, and they lend an entertaining sense of adventure.

However, the second part of the film defines the phrase “too much of a good thing” to me. Whereas the first 90 minutes mostly comprise still moments punctuated by gradually-extended action sequences, the second half of the film is almost all action, with very few quieter moments. It's pretty neat to see a few people flying around like trapezists and dueling with swords for a bit, but after an hour, I found it tedious. I can certainly appreciate the acrobatic, choreographic, cinematic, and editing skill that all of these scenes took, but come on. Once the point is made that the characters are possessed of these Buddha-granted fighting powers of extraordinary magnitude, it morphs into pure stylization. And I can only handle so much style when there's no substance being added.

Abbot Hui, whose Enlightenment will kick your ass off.

A saving grace did come at the end for me. While roughly 45 minutes of the final hour of the film consists of extended fighting sequences, the finale is one of very interesting imagery. Abbot Hui, who was brilliantly played by the quietly imposing Roy Chiao, sitting in the lotus pose with the setting sun forming a halo behind him puts a wonderfully ambiguous and iconic stamp on the tale. Perhaps the implication is clearer to viewers more familiar with Buddhism, but a novitiate Westerner like myself is left to marvel and ponder exactly what this all means, especially in light of the fact the never-seen arch enemy, Eunuch Wei, is never conquered.

Despite this satisfying and metaphysical moment of closure, it takes a long time to get there. It also highlights one of the things that I wanted to see more of – the monks. Perhaps restraint was the best course here for the filmmakers, as too much of these orange-robed warriors as salt might have spoiled the broth. Still, I felt that there were plenty of questions left unanswered about this key component to the story. What is their philosophy, that it leads them to train themselves into nigh-unbeatable unarmed combatants? How do they do it? What is the synthesis between the pacifist Buddhist mindset and the ability to throw trained soldiers around like rag dolls? The lack of exploration of these questions left me wanting.

The only other thing that bothered me is something that the filmmakers possibly had no control over. Maybe due to a shoddy DVD transfer, some of the night scenes are impossibly dark. Typified most by the long midnight ambush of Ku and Yang's followers on Eunuch Wei's forces near the end of Part 1, there are times when the viewer can barely tell what's happening on screen. It's only emphasized by how well the rest of the movie is shot, with its masterfully composed sets and framing. The night sequences often blur into random shadows rushing around amidst the screams. The impenetrable murk did little to enhance these moments. Again, though, this may just be an age and DVD quality issue.

The ultimate question for me with any of these movies is, “Why did the fellows who did the TIME list put it on with the other 99 shows?” Whereas it is totally obvious with many of the movies on the list, with A Touch of Zen, I can only speculate. My guess is that it was probably one of the first films to have the high-flying, effects-enhanced martial arts action sequences that have become renowned the world over, thanks to films such as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Hero. Beyond this, it combines pathos with a polished, epic feel that many action films aspire to, but rarely achieve.

Would I watch it again? No. Not in its entirety, at least. Oddly, I would watch the slow first hour for its gradual and soothing pacing. More though, I would watch the final ten minutes again, as the final scenes offer some food for philosophical thought. You can keep the 90-plus minutes of over-the-top sword fights.

Take 2: Or, Why Film Geeks Love This Movie (Done after some further research on the movie.)

When it comes to this movie, there's really not a wealth of material to dog through on the Internet. Within what I did find, there was nothing surprising. Critics, both past and present, hailed A Touch of Zen as an excellent film, in terms of technique (It won the 1975 Cannes Film Festival Technical Grand Prize, and was nominated for the Palm d'Or.). No shocker there, as the visuals still hold up exceptionally well, even here in 2011.

The theme of Buddhism comes up quite a lot. Apparently, King Hu was lauded for his blending of the philosophy with the flash and style of the fighting sequences.

The only other common thread running through any materials I found was how A Touch of Zen has continued to be emulated. Virtually every site I found mentions either Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon; House of Flying Daggers, or both. All you have to do is watch a ten-minute clip of the 1971 original movie to see exactly why.

Would I recommend it? Only to people who know they like kung-fu movies, as A Touch of Zen is to kung-fu movies what the Godfather is to mafia flicks. It set standards that have and will persist through the decades. If, like me, the genre is not your thing, I highly doubt you'll be willing to hand over the three hours it takes to watch. Maybe just youtube the final ten minutes or so.

That's a wrap. 67 shows down. 38 to go.


Coming Soon: The Godfather (1972):

Yes!! I'm as excited about this one as I was about Casablanca. I don't care what kind of film snob you might be, you lose credibility if you don't enjoy this classic. I haven't watched it in several years, so I'm due. Come on back and see how I put my admiration to words.

Please be sure to pick up all empties on the way out.

Film #66: C'era una volta il West (1968)

Title for us English-Speaking Types: Once Upon a Time in the West

Director: Sergio Leone

Initial Release Country: Italy

Times Previously Seen: once (about 10 years ago)

Teaser Summary (No spoilers)

Mysterious drifter meets beautiful widow in the Wild West. Tangles with a wild outlaw, a bad dude in black, and railroads. Stares at everything.

Extended Summary (Slightly longer plot synopsis, spoilers included. Fair warning.)

An unnamed man (Charles Bronson) with a penchant for playing a harmonica arrives in a developing part of the West during the expansion in the 19th century. He has come looking for revenge against man named Frank (Henry Fonda). Frank is a cold-blooded assassin hired by a railroad magnate, Morton, to help his railroad reach the west coast. Standing in their way is Jill, a former prostitute who has recently married the enterprising Brett McBain, a landowner who has been murdered, along with his three children, by Frank and his gang of thugs. McBain had, years before, foreseen that the railroad would need to come through the area, so he bought land and planned to build an entire town around it – a town he would name Sweetwater. Now, only his widow Jill is left to see his dream come to fruition, if she avoids Morton and Frank's attempts to get rid of her.

Mixed up in all of this is the outlaw Cheyenne (Jason Robards). Cheyenne is on the run from the law, but has a certain dignity and code that ingratiate him to both Harmonica and Jill. Cheyenne has been framed by Frank for the murder of the McBains, so he also has motivation to find this cunning killer. It takes a while for Harmonica, Jill, and Cheyenne to uncover McBain's plans for Sweetwater. Once they do, they realize their aims are in line with each other. After some close calls and a few twists, Morton is killed by Cheyenne's men, and Harmonica gets his showdown with Frank. Harmonica shoots Frank in a stand-off and only then reveals that he is the younger brother of one of Frank's many victims over his bloody years. He has waited patiently for decades to confront Frank and put an end to his murdering life.

Harmonica gets his cold revenge.

With Frank dead, Harmonica heads away from Sweetwater, the construction of which is now in full-swing. Brett McBain had bought all of the wood and supplies needed to construct the train station and the town around it. With Morton and his goons out of the way, Jill and her dozens of hired men are free to build up her dead husband's ultimate wish.

An exceptionally detailed, full plot summary can be found here, at imdb's website.

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (Done after this most recent viewing, before any further research.)

I now see why the creators of the TIME list put this one on there. It's not only a standout western, but simply a great movie, regardless of genre. My quick-shot summary above gives you no idea of just how great.

I had watched this once before and wondered why, with The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly already on the list, the fellows at TIME had put another Leone western on it. After all, aren't his westerns all similarly unique in carrying those Leone trademarks? Yes and no.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly is brilliant, no doubt. (You can read me gush about it in this post that I did several weeks ago). And while there are glimmers of some deeper commentary about U.S. history and violence in the movie, it is ultimately an epic adventure story. Blondie, Tuco, and Angel Eyes hop from locale to locale, trying to out-duel and outsmart each other in ways that keep the watcher engaged in a very accessible way. Once Upon A Time in the West, despite some excellent action sequences, is another breed.

With this film, Leone slowed things down considerably. One only needs to watch the first ten minutes to see it. In that former film, you start with an extended close-up and a few slow minutes of build-up before you get Tuco Ramirez gunning down three bounty hunters and crashing through a barber shop window. In Once Upon A Time, it's nearly ten minutes of almost no action. We watch three of Frank's men walk into a train station and patiently wait for Harmonica as the opening credits intermittently pop up. Missing also is the early introduction of a rousing Ennio Morricone soundtrack, which one doesn't hear until nearly ten minutes in. I imagine that many modern viewers would lose patience with such pacing, but it's perfect for conveying the eerie and misleading stillness of the terrain and the characters.

It takes nearly ten tension-building, dialogue-free minutes to get to the first piece of fast action. Harmonica (in the distance) is about to show these 3 hombres what happens when you mess with the quiet guy in a Leone Western.

It is with this same slow and gradual pacing that the entire story of the film is told over two hours and forty-five minutes. I can't help but think that many modern viewers would not have the wherewithal for it. For those who do, though, there are payoffs galore. The sweeping long shots of the wide open southwestern terrain are incredible, surpassing even the earlier works of Leone himself. I was reminded of another director's observation that Leone, like many other Italian artists raised on steady diets of classical painting techniques, had an innate knack for frame composition. Time and again in this movie, you can simply drink in the landscape and marvel at how the characters and their story fit into it.

Of course, the movie isn't telling the tale of southwestern U.S. geography. Its lifeblood is in the narrative and the characters. Like his other spaghetti westerns (a slight misnomer, since some scenes were filmed in Utah and Arizona), Leone's characters are not exactly the most well-rounded you will ever come across. Still, they are intriguing, and they have just enough facets to make them compelling. Sure, Harmonica is pretty much the same “man with no name” that Eastwood played in the “Dollars” trilogy; and sure, Cheyenne is a slight twist on Tuco Ramirez from The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly. All the same, they're entertaining. The most novel addition is Jill – easily the strongest and most prominent female character in any of Leone's movies.

The biggest eye-opener in terms of characters is Frank. Not so much because of the character (not too dissimilar from Angel Eyes in The Good) , but because of who played the role. Having established and all-American swell guy Henry Fonda gunning down children, kidnapping women, and generally exuding evil is hypnotic. With those piercing eyes and almost kindly voice, it borders on terrifying to see him do his butcher's work with such icy satisfaction. Fonda was so good at the role that it almost seems a loss that he didn't get pegged for more dastardly roles earlier in his career.

Fonda's gaze is as dead as the pale corpses he leaves in his wake. Tom Joad, this ain't.

Fonda is clearly the standout, but a few other performances shouldn't go overlooked. Charles Bronson is, well, Charles Bronson. He's still. He's quiet. He has a mean glare. That was enough for this role, just like every other role he every had. Claudia Cardinale is solid as the world-weary ex-prostitute, Jill. She was smoking hot, no doubt, but also has a sultry wisdom that fit the part to a tee. Easily the best of the other main players, though, is Jason Robards as Cheyenne. Most markedly in his scenes with Cardinale, Robards is outstanding as the scuzzy yet compassionate, larcenous yet honorable criminal. I don't think I'll put him up there with Tuco in my esteem, but he's pretty close.

On top of the great visuals, pacing, and solid characters and acting, is the underlying theme of western expansion. This is what puts this movie over the top. While Leone made a few feints at social commentary and figurative imagery in his previous film, he really goes for it in Once Upon a Time, and I feel that he does it right. The West was “won” by the sweat, blood, and pain of who-knows-how-many people, and the idealism and greed of wealthy magnates who didn't much care who got ground up along the way. This movie can be seen as a forefather of more modern film takes on the subject like There Will Be Blood. Fortunately, Leone never bashes you over the head with symbolism. Probably the best moment of restraint is when the decrepit rail magnate Morton is dying, face-down near a tiny puddle. We could have been treated to a clumsy interposition of the Pacific Ocean right then, but we aren't. We simply see the image play out, along with Frank, and take in just how a grand scheme can end so pathetically.

The rail magnate Morton gazes at a picture of his dream, the Pacific. The closest he gets is the shallow pool of dusty desert water, where he dies.

If there's anything to nitpick, one is that Leone often pushes verisimilitude to the back so that clever film style can be front and center. Some scenes are easy to dismiss as a bit silly and unrealistic, such as when Frank's thugs silently take over the auction for the Sweetwater property. A touch goofy it may be, but even scenes like this are simply chances for Leone to use visual rather than dialectic storytelling. And, as anyone who has seen and knows his films can attest, he was brilliant at this. I've always been a fan of being forced to actually watch the movie, and not just rely on exposition. I can see why some viewers might poo-poo these sequences as parlor tricks of sorts, but I'm always amused and impressed by them.

My only other minor gripe is that the Ennio Morricone soundtrack in Once Upon a Time is not quite as strong as The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly. It's certainly as quirky and unique, but I actually found the integrated harmonica wail mostly annoying. Luckily, Cheyenne's theme song had a playful bounce to it, which accompanied the character's more amiable nature nicely.

Jason Robards has the look and psychology of the cynically humorous thief, Cheyenne, down pat.

Any who enjoy westerns or simply well-crafted movies that make full use of the techniques particular to the medium should give this one a serious shot. As I suggested in my review of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, a good primer is working through Leone's three films with Clint Eastwood, starting with the 90-minute A Fistful of Dollars. The production isn't nearly as sharp (it was probably made with about $45), but the director's skill is easy to see. If you enjoy that, work your way through the rest, and cap it off with Once Upon a Time in the West, probably the most enduring of them all.

Take 2: Why Film Geeks Love This Movie (Done after a little more research on the film.)

After some digging, I am reminded why many movie lovers can be forgiven if they have never seen or even heard of this movie. Here in the U.S., it was a total flop.

Thanks to Paramount's meddling and editing, the original had 20 minutes cut out of it, which never helps narrative cohesion. More than this, though, was a seeming lack of preparation on the parts of the viewers. Both Paramount and American audiences were hoping for another skewed, high-paced action flick like the previous "Dollars" trilogy. They weren't ready for such a slow, deliberately paced movie. Even Roger Ebert, who was often ahead of the critical curve with his viewing eye, was lukewarm in his original review in 1969. In contrast, French and Italian audiences loved it. So much so that the movie would run in some places for up to four years following the initial release. In the U.S., it barely lasted a few months.

It wasn't until the mid-80s that the studio restored the original version, and the few American cinephiles who had always revered it could share their vindication. With the intercession of decades, you see the movie pop up all over “best movie” lists.

On the DVD I watched, the most recent special release, there are some excellent short documentaries, featuring past and modern interviews with some of the cast and crew, as well as several prominent modern film directors. They all marvel at how Leone concocted an ultimate summation of the greatest American westerns in Once Upon a Time. The list of films from which he drew is almost an encyclopedia of the genre's greatest works – High Noon, Shane, the Monument Valley films of John Ford, and around a dozen others. Leone not only blended the strongest elements of them all, but he added his own style and cynicism to the themes and characters. One modern commentator called it a massive homage to, and final dirge for, the film Western.

Taking a play right out of the John Ford play book, Leone shot several scenes in the exact same spots of Monument Valley. This shot, along with dozens of others, capture the expansiveness of the whole region.

A note of more specific interest was learning how the music for the film fit into the process. Contrary to almost all other films, the music score was composed first, and the scenes shot to match. The four primary pieces of music, each specific to the four main characters, are introduced separately in turn, and then blended by the end of the movie. The effect is truly remarkable, and a testament to Leone's vision.

Actors loved working with Sergio Leone. This only came as a surprise to me in light of the fact that he was such a visual perfectionist. Another renowned perfectionist, Stanley Kubrick, was notoriously difficult for actors to work with, because of his demands and inflexibility. Leone, on the other hand, gave his actors plenty of latitude to do as they saw fit. Integrating such freedom from performers with his own crystal clear vision is something that boggles my mind.

A final note on Leone's film genius. As I'd heard mentioned when researching The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, apparently Leone never did any story boarding of any kind. Unlike nearly all other highly visual directors, who physically map out their scenes so that the sequencing is correct, Leone had a pure, completely finished tale worked out in his head by the time filming began. I'm reminded of the scene in Milos Foreman's Amadeus when Salieri marvels at seeing Mozart's uncorrected, flawless first drafts of his symphonic and operatic scores. Whether this was true of Mozart or not, it was very true in Leone's case. The fruits of such a sharp imagination can be seen in all of his works.

So again, I highly recommend seeing this movie for those with the time and who know what they're in for. Be patient, soak up the beauty of it, and know that you are watching a film Western classic the likes of which can only be imitated, but never replicated.

If the film artistry isn't enough of a draw for you, maybe this shot will entice you. It also explains why Claudia Cardinale as Jill had jaws dropping across oceans.

That's a wrap. 66 shows down. 39 to go.

Coming Soon: A Touch of Zen (1971)

I'm totally in the dark about this movie. Never heard of it, and only know that it looks like a sword-swinging kung-fu extravaganza. It'll also be the first Chinese movie that I review for this project.

Please be sure to pick up all empties on the way out.

Film #63: Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo (1966)

 

Title for us English-speaking types: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Director: Sergio Leone

Initial Release Country: Italy

Times Previously Seen: approximately 7 or 8

Teaser Summary (No spoilers)

Three tough hombres seek out a hidden fortune in the Wild West. During the search, they try to avoid becoming casualties of the Civil War and each other.

Extended Summary (A more complete plot synopsis, spoilers included. Fair warning)

The American West. Early 1860s and the States are far from United. The Civil War is in full swing, though in the deserts and plains of the West, it is only a peripheral presence. In a remote town, three gunmen storm into a barber shop, only to be rapidly gunned down by a rough-looking character named Tuco. Tuco jumps on a nearby horse and flees the town.

Elsewhere, a man in black drifts into a small hacienda. The man has been paid by another to find the current alias about another missing man, one called Jackson. The owner of the hacienda fearfully tells the man in black that Jackson now goes by the name Bill Carson, and also mentions a stolen cash box filled with $200,000 that Carson has in his possession. The frightened man assumes that the man in black has been paid to kill him, and he offers him double his fee to desist. The man in black responds to the offer by killing the man and his son and taking the money anyway. He returns to the man who hired him. He learns that Bill Carson was part of a small group of Confederate renegades who stole the gold from a Union convoy. Upon learning this, the man in black, who goes by the name “Angel Eyes” kills his original patron in cold blood.

Angel Eyes, "The Bad", begins his blood-soaked path towards the treasure.

Back on the plains, Tuco is riding along on his stolen horse, but the horse is shot out from underneath him. He is surrounded by three bounty hunters who seem intent on taking him in the for the $2,000 reward being offered for the capture of this inveterate criminal. Just as the three hunters close in on Tuco, a quiet stranger emerges and tells the three bounty hunters to back off and allow him to take Tuco. The three men try to shoot the brazen newcomer, but the man kills all three of them with lightning quickness. Tuco, believing the man to be his savior, tries to thank him and be on his way, but the stranger merely straps him onto the back of his horse, brings him into the nearest town, and collects the reward for himself.

Shortly after he spews and endless litany of insults at the lone bounty hunter, whom he calls “Blondie” for his light-colored hair, Tuco is placed into a noose, with only a horse between him, the ground, and oblivion. When sentence is passed and Tuco is about to he hanged, Blondie, who is hidden in a nearby barn hayloft, shoots the rope apart, freeing Tuco. He also shoots the hats off of several citizens, to ward off any chance of pursuit. It turns out that Blondie has struck a deal with Tuco – Tuco gets turned in, Blondie takes the reward and then saves Tuco. Tuco's bounty goes up, and they repeat the process, splitting all the reward money. Tuco complains about wanting more than a 50-50 share, but Blondie suggests that his “aim might be affected” if his share drops. Tuco drops his complaint, but assures Blondie that double crossing him would be a grave mistake.

In a new town, Tuco sits atop another horse, his neck in another noose. On the edge of the town, Blondie, already with the reward money for Tuco, waits to free him with another rifle blast. Casually looking over the scene is Angel Eyes, who happens to be in town to follow the lead of Bill Carson. He learns of a prostitute who Carson frequents in another town. Angel Eyes makes note of Blondie and Tuco, but leaves town in pursuit of the prostitute. Just as before, when Tuco is about to be hanged, Blondie fires his shot, but slightly misses. Tuco dangles from the neck for a few seconds from the half-cut rope. Blondie fires another shot that cuts the rope completely and frees Tuco again. The two hop onto Blondie's horse and head out of town.

Blondie and Tuco, the "Good" and "Ugly", respectively, discuss their business deal.

Once they are many miles from the town, Tuco rails at Blondie for nearly missing the rope. Blondie quietly lowers Tuco onto the ground and explains that he thinks they have milked their little scam for all its worth. Leaving Tuco stranded and tied in the middle of nowhere, Blondie rides off with all of their ill-gotten gains.

On a subsequent evening in yet another town, Angel Eyes tracks down the prostitute who knows Bill Carson. After a mild beating at Angel Eyes' hands, the girl tells him which regiment Bill Carson is in. Angel Eyes is getting closer to the money.

On a following day, Tuco staggers into a tiny village. He has somehow survived the miles-long exodus that Blondie forced upon him, and he now has two things on his mind – getting water and getting revenge. He makes a good start of it by pilfering some water from a well and then robbing the shop owner of his best revolver and all of his cash. He even tracks down Blondie to a hotel and almost exacts his revenge then and there. At gunpoint, he forces Blondie onto a stool and gets a rope around his neck. Just as TucoTuco through the floor and allowing Blondie to escape.

After several days of tracking him across the plains, Tuco finds that Blondie is in the middle of the same old scam. He lays behind the cover of a low hill, his rifle cross-hairs on another hanging rope around the neck of another criminal. However, just before he is meant to fire his life-saving shot, Tuco sneaks up behind him and takes him prisoner. Blondie's new “partner” is left to die and Blondie is now the captive of the last man in the world he would want to be captive of.

Echoing their last parting, Tuco leads Blondie to desert. As Tuco rides atop a horse, he forces Blondie to try and keep up with him along a 100-mile trek across the scorching hot sands. With the comforting shade of a parasol and ample water, Tuco delights in the slow death of Blondie, even teasing and taunting him along the way. Blondie remains stoic, but eventually his endurance is baked away by the relentlessly brutal desert sun. After walking for many hours without water or shade, he finally collapses. Tuco, having appeased his desire for retribution, slowly moves in for the kill.

Tuco now has his man, Blondie, right where he wants him.

Just as Tuco cocks his gun, though, a riderless wagon comes barreling out of the desert. The distracted Tuco leaves the nearly-dead Blondie and heads off the wagon. In it, he finds several dead Confederate soldiers. One soldier, however, still clings to a small shred of life. It is Bill Carson, and he explains that his group was attacked out in the desert. He promises Tuco that he will reveal the location of his stolen gold coins if only he can get some life-saving water. Tuco tries to pry the information from him, and manages to get the name of the cemetery, but not the specific name on the grave where the gold is hidden. Carson loses consciousness, and Tuco scrambles to find some water in order to revive him. When he returns with the water, though, Tuco sees that Blondie has dragged himself to Carson. Carson has died, but not before he whispered the name of the grave to Blondie. Tuco, who moments before was joyfully going to kill him, now has 200,000 golden reasons to ensure Blondie's safety.

Tuco brings Blondie to a mission where the monks start to nurse him back to health. Tuco tries to weasel the location of the grave out of Blondie early on, but to no avail. Once Blondie's health is returned, the two men prepare to set out after the gold. Before leaving, Tuco seeks out his brother, who is the head Brother at the mission. Tuco and his brother, Pablo, recount their very different paths through life, each one casting aspersions and disgust at the other. The two part, regretting that they cannot reconcile, but they part all the same.

Out on the plains again, in their found wagon and Confederate uniforms, Blondie and Tuco make toward the gold. Tuco knows the general location, and Blondie the specific grave, so neither can find the treasure without the other. It isn't long before they are found and captured by a traveling Union army. They are presumed to be rebels, thanks to their uniforms, and are sent to a P.O.W. camp.

At the camp, Blondie and Tuco are surprised to see Angel Eyes there, somehow in the position of a Union sergeant. Angel Eyes has positioned himself here in order to best come across any word of Bill Carson. During the prisoner role call, when Bill Carson's name is sounded, Blondie convinces Tuco to assume the role. Angel Eyes promptly has Tuco brought into his office and brutally tortured in order to find out what he knows about the real Bill Carson and his stash of gold. Tuco parts with his half of the information and is sent off on a prison train with a massive and violent man as an escort. Angel Eyes next brings Blondie into his office. Realizing that torture will not work with Blondie, Angel Eyes forms a partnership with him instead, now that Angel Eyes has the name of the cemetery. Blondie cautiously accepts, for he has no other choice.

Angel Eyes, posing as a Union officer, as he prepares to squeeze information about the gold out of Tuco.

On a cargo train with his ogre-like guard, Tuco makes his move. Feigning the call of nature, Tuco hurls himself and the guard to whom he is handcuffed off of the moving train. He promptly kills the guard, and soon after manages to get the handcuffs off by laying them (and his guard) across the railroad tracks. Another train comes along, severs the chain, and frees Tuco.

A little time after, a little farther along, and a little closer to the cemetery, in a town decimated by the War, Blondie takes a breather with Angel Eyes and the five mercenaries who Angel Eyes has brought along. Tuco has also found his way into the town, but he has been spotted by one of the men he shot in the barber shop at the beginning of the story. Tuco shoots the man in self defense. A short way off, Blondie recognizes the report of Tuco's gun, and strolls away from his companions. Angel Eyes gestures for one of the guns for hire to tail Blondie.

A few buildings away, Blondie rounds on the mercenary and kills him. He then finds Tuco and reinstates his deal with him, assuring the never-say-die bandit that Angel Eyes still does not know the name on the grave where the treasure is hidden. Tuco and Blondie then kill their way towards Angel Eyes, gunning down all of the remaining four hired guns in Angel Eyes' employ. When they get to his hiding place, though, they find Angel Eyes himself gone. Blondie and Tuco strike out again.

Eventually, the two men come to a bridge that will lead them to the cemetery. The only problem is that it is the setting of a current stalemate between two large forces – one Union Army and one Confederate. The two sides are locked in war of attrition, with neither side willing to give up on the bridge. Tuco and Blondie remedy this problem by sneaking out to the bridge and using dynamite to blow it to pieces. Just before they do, however, Tuco and Blondie agree to swap their pieces of the information – the cemetery is named Sand Hill and the grave is that of Arch Stanton. Once the bridge is removed, Tuco and Blondie cross the river.

Across the river, Tuco breaks away from Blondie and dashes towards the cemetery. He gets to Sand Hill and races through the hundreds of gravestones until he finds that of Arch Stanton. He starts to dig when Blondie arrives with a shovel for him to use. Just as they are about to open the grave, Angel Eyes sneaks in and holds the two men at gunpoint. Just as he thinks he has the upper hand, however, Blondie surprises both other men by kicking open Arch Stanton's grave to reveal nothing but a pile of bones. He explains that he never told Tuco the right grave, not trusting him with it.

To settle it all, Blondie proposes to write the name of the real grave on the bottom of a stone, which he will place in the middle of all three men and they will simply have a three-way showdown for it. The name is written, the rock is placed face-down, and the three men slowly back away from each other. After several minutes of carefully measuring each other, the men make their moves. Angel Eyes draws first, aiming for Blondie, but Blondie is quicker and kills him. Tuco, meanwhile, has been firing his weapon in Angel Eyes' direction, but to no effect. He apparently has no bullets in his gun.

The middle of Sand Hill Cemetery - scene of the grande finale, three-way standoff.

After the tension has eased, Blondie explains that he had unloaded Tuco's gun the night before, as they were waiting out the aftermath of their sabotage of the bridge, and Tuco was asleep. He also shows Tuco the “name” rock, which has no writing on it, whatsoever. It turns out that Bill Carson had told Blondie that the gold was stashed in the grave marked “unknown” next to Arch Stanton's. This is where Blondie urges Tuco to dig, and where they do indeed find the sacks heavy with the gold.

Blondie plays one final trick on Tuco. At gunpoint, Tuco is forced to stand atop a wooden grave marker and place his head in a noose hung from a tree. Blondie leaves Tuco's half of the money on the ground and rides away. Just as Tuco is about to slip and hang, however, Blondie emerges from behind a distant tree and, recalling their early scams together, shoots the rope. Tuco is freed to take his money, but not before he screams a few parting insults at his “business partner”.

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (Done after this most recent viewing, before any further research.)

A movie like this may never be made again. I've seen it many times now and I still love it. Yet, despite my undying enjoyment at watching The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, it is a film that I would hesitate to recommend to everyone.

I recall a conversation I had with one of my anthropology professors around 1999. I had learned that he enjoyed Western movies, so we got to talking about them one day, touching on the John Wayne/John Ford Monument Valley films and others. When I brought up Sergio Leone and his “Man With No Name” series, I was crestfallen to hear this professor poo-poo them as “silly.” I was a bit thrown.

And yet, when I watch any of the Leone westerns now, I can see why he said it. Compared to a typical American western, there is something quirky and blatantly stylish about a movie like The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Still, it's these offbeat elements that are part of their indelible magic.

Tuco Ramirez. Never has such an entertaining bag of scum been filmed so skillfully.

Before getting into the more peculiar aspects of the Leone westerns, one needs to look at the more traditional standards. The clearest of them all is the visual element. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly can easily be placed right next to any of the titans of western movies in terms of visuals. The composition and framing of every shot, be it the vast sweep of the plains or the extreme close-ups of the gnarled and lined faces of the characters, is the height of film aesthetic. Even when compared to Leone's previous “Man With No Name” films, this one excels.

Closely related to this is one of my favorite aspects – the visual storytelling. As I've mentioned in my reviews of several silent films like The Last Command and others, visual storytelling is, oddly, a nearly lost skill in films. It's odd since it is arguably one of the very few things that can set film apart from any other storytelling medium. Far too many films rely on excessive dialogue or exposition. Sergio Leone was quite the opposite – he seemed to relish the chances to tell a tale without a character saying a single word, and his movies are replete with examples. One of my favorites in this movie is when Tuco emerges from his death-defying escape from the desert. As he bursts into the shop, silently disassembles and reassembles various revolvers, and robs the shopkeeper, the man's entire character is laid bare: He's driven. He's skilled. He's ruthless. He's even oddly funny. This is all clear in a roughly five-minute sequence in which barely ten words are spoken. So few directors have the imagination or technique to do such a sequence, and Leone made a habit of it.

One of the nearly countless clever shots of Leone's. When the camera pans up to this perspective, you get several seconds to dwell on what it means for Tuco.

Speaking of Tuco, the character has a special place in my heart. Thanks to good writing and a phenomenal acting job by Eli Wallach, Tuco Ramirez is one of my all-time favorites. It's hard to even think of another character like him in movies. He's clearly scum of the lowest order, but I can't help but like and almost admire him. His exploits in the movie make it all clear – while he possesses some of the basest of human qualities (greed, selfishness and violence), he also possesses several admirable, if somewhat twisted, qualities. He's as tough as they come (how else does one survive hangings, being marooned in a desert, severe beatings, and countless shootouts?) and he absolutely never backs down. Most importantly, he's as capable as anyone in the movie, and this is my favorite bit. While Tuco already serves the most humorous role in the film, Leone could have written him to be a total clown, yet didn't. As lethal as Blondie and Angel Eyes are, Tuco is just as deadly. The former two may be more intelligent and collected, but Tuco is easily as dangerous. By not relegating Tuco to the role of some goofball bandit, the story is granted much greater balance.

In addition to my fondness for Tuco, a few things need be pointed out about the other title roles. Of the three, Lee Van Cleef as “The Bad” is clearly the most two-dimensional. He's simply a cold-blooded killer out for himself. No more. Blondie and Tuco, though, are different cases. In some ways, they embody abstract, mythological archetypes of the western tale: the calm, cool, unflappable drifter with impossibly perfect aim; and the dirt-encrusted, blood-drenched bandit. Yet, there are scenes in the movie in which they are made more endearing. With Tuco, it is through his touching interactions with his missionary brother. With Blondie, his quiet observations and kindnesses to the downtrodden and dying he comes across. These scenes show the two men to possess a humanity that their harsh exteriors belie. It's this unusual blending of mythical and humane that set Leone's films apart from their cruder ilk.

I can't let a review of this movie pass without mentioning the music. Even if you've never seen these movies, you know some of the tunes. Scored by the absolute master, Ennio Morricone, Leone's spaghetti westerns all had a sound of their own, and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly was the best of them. The driving bass drums, human grunts, Jew's harp, discordant piano notes, and lonely guitar picks all add to the tone of the movie. The music echoes the odd blend of funny, cool, serious, and tense, and does it like no other soundtrack ever has or perhaps will.

So back to my former professor's judgment of Leone's movies as “silly”. I think he was put off by the lack of authenticity when it came to the action elements of the movie. There is certainly some contrivance in the name of style. Leone had a knack for coming up with cool and clever visual tricks. Blondie's serape and ever-present cigars. Tuco's over-the-shoulder gun sling. The wacko music. Lee Van Cleef's cartoonishly evil sneering and laughing. Sure, these are not things that were part of “the Real Wild West”. But that's not what Leone's movies were about. They were about telling a tale of adventure, featuring interesting characters in a setting only somewhat based on history. That dusty, wide-open setting is the perfect crucible in which to crush three hard cases, forming a flashy and volatile compound.

The tragi-comic, drunken Union colonel. One of the many elements of the movie that has just enough reality to avoid being dismissed as mere camp.

If you haven't seen this movie, you may ask, “Should I watch it?” As alluded to earlier, this is hard to say. Leone's films are for lovers of epic adventure movies, sure, but they also require a true love of cinema. I've read plenty of reviews on Netflix and other places in which viewers trash his movies for being way too slow. I know they refer to the extended close-up shots and the long periods without dialogue. Personally, I love these moments. They force you to pay attention and always provide a payoff – either a tale is told or tension is built. If you're OK with westerns and want to see a classic like none other, give this one your time. A good approach is to watch Leone's first, A Fistful of Dollars. Not only is it a solid remake of the Kurosawa samurai great, Yojimbo, but it's a much more accessible  90 minutes.

NOTE: I watched, for the first time, the 40th Anniversary Special Edition of this movie. It includes an extra 15-or-so minutes that were cut out of the original. Word of warning – get the original, theatrical release. The added scenes are not only superfluous and a bit choppy, but they are voiced over by 70-year old Clint Eastwood and Eli Wallach, who had to go back and re-dubbed the sound. All of the added material detracts from the flow of Leone's original cut.

Take 2: Why Film Geeks Love This Movie (Done after some further research on the film)

There are plenty of interesting, puzzling, and downright hilarious factoids to dig up about this movie.

There are a few short, strong documentaries on the film, including plenty of modern interviews with Eastwood and Wallach. They recount just how “cheap” spaghetti westerns were, in almost every respect. The film they made with Leone was not much of an exception, as they had to act through complete language barriers and loosey-goosey attitudes towards the filming process. Eastwood having been a Hollywood reject, he began working with Leone because he didn't have too many options. He and Wallach tell many a tale about how they narrowly avoided serious maiming and death on the sets several times. Funny in hindsight, I guess.

Going through some other commentary, such as the film doc “The Leone Style” with Richard Schickel or Roger Ebert's revisiting of the movie, it's interesting to see how the recognition of Leone's true mastery of the form took time to coalesce. This original TIME magazine review was apparently a rather typical mixed bag, and clearly has no use for Eastwood's acting, calling his to-date film works “consistently awful”. But even such a lukewarm critic was not blind to the visual genius of the movie.

Arguably one of the most iconic western movie shots of all time. Eastwood may not have had much acting range, but he damn sure knew how to strike a stoic pose.

It was curious to find that, to my surprise, the historical Civil War events portrayed in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly were rooted far more deeply in fact that I had suspected. While I, and I suppose many other people, assume that there was little to no large-scale fighting in the Southwest, apparently there was. As referenced in the movie, there really was a General Sibley, who really did make a desperate gambit to storm through Union forces, up the Rio Grande and into Colorado, in an effort to take charge of that state's silver and gold supplies. He failed rather miserably, but not before several thousand of his men were killed along the way. This is not so different from the backdrop of the wild quest of Angel Eyes, Tuco and Blondie.

I also discovered something about the “added” scenes that I disliked so much. These extra 16 minutes were actually part of Leone's original cut, released in Rome. He unwillingly cut them out at the behest of United Artists, who claimed American audiences would find his original 177-minute version too taxing. Regardless, I still found most of these edited scenes unnecessary. Maybe it's just because I had always seen the 161-minute version, and any change to it feels unnatural. Whatever the case, I'll go back to the shorter version for future viewings.

Whether the editing helped or not, the reception was fairly clear. When released in 1967, the movie was a hit. American audiences were enamored of the odd little tweaks to the all-too familiar western genre. They had already been able to adapt to them with Leone's first two westerns featuring the stone-faced Eastwood, A Fistful of Dollars and For A Few Dollars More. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly kept all of the idiosyncratic flourishes of style and polished the aesthetics to a high finish.

Looking slightly ahead on my list, I see the later Leone western, Once Upon A Time in the West. I have seen this one a few times before, and it is good. However, I'm left to wonder exactly why it is considered a separately “great” film. I suppose I'll find out in another few weeks.

That's a wrap. 63 shows down. 42 to go.

Coming Soon: Mouchette (1967)

This one looks like a serious change of pace. I'm going from a raucous shoot-em-up to a dreary-looking French film about a teenage girl's suffering an misery. I may have to whack back a fifth of Scotch to get into the right mindset for this one. Come on back and see if I can stay lucid enough to figure out what make Mouchette “great”.

Please be sure to pick up all empties on the way out.