The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

Goodbad The final installment of the Man with No Name trilogy is the film The Good, the Bad & the Ugly (two-disc edition).

(For my review of the first two films, see: A Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More.)

There are two things that, if you know them before  you watch the picture, you will probably enjoy it much more:

1) Despite being the third part of the trilogy, this film is not a continuation of the story of the characters we've met. It's about different characters who are reminiscent of the ones in the first two films.

2) This film is really long, so be prepared for a marathon movie-watching session. The American version is 2 hours and 40 minutes long, and the Italian version is apparently a full 3 hours (compared to the 90 minutes of the first film and the 2 hours of the second).

I didn't know either of these before I started watching, and I found my enjoyment hampered as a result. I'd probably like it more on a second watching.

Why isn't this a continuation of the characters established in the first two films? Two reasons: First, at the end of the second film Clint Eastwood's character had become rich. He therefore would have no need to continue bounty hunting, which is–and which certainly was then–a dangerous and unpleasant profession.

Second, and more importantly, Sergio Leone wanted to set this story during the American Civil War. This is earlier than the classic period of the "Old West" genre, which focuses on the years from about 1870 to 1900, which saw great western expansion and settlement, in significant measure driven by the need to get out of the economically impoverished, Reconstruction-era South.

Leone therefore needs to yank us back about 25 years in time from when the first two films were apparently set, to what seems to be approximately 1863 (plus or minus a year).

Why does Leone want to set this film during the Civil War?

Because he's an Italian director and he wants to make a point about the brutality and senselessness of war. What other reason could there be?

The thing is, though … it helps first-time watchers if you clearly communicate right from the beginning that we're in the 1860s rather than the 1880s and that these are not the same characters we met in the first two movies. If you don't tell them that then the viewers will experience cognitive dissonance until they figure it out.

That takes some time due to Leone's slow-pacing of this film. We don't even meet Clint Eastwood's character until something like 30 minutes into the movie. He's the last of the three title characters to be introduced.

Speaking of which, let's talk about the title. The films in this trilogy seem to be plagued with title problems. In themselves, the titles are awesome. A Fistful of Dollars. For a Few Dollars More. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Good titling!

But the titles don't always actually fit the movie. And that's especially true in this case.

Admittedly, they came up with a better title for this one than what the purely descriptive one would have been: "For a Heaping Huge Pile of Dollars"–which is what the stakes are this time ($200,000 in gold, in 1863 dollars).

Leone loved the title they finally came up with for this movie. He loved it so much that–just to make sure you appreciate it–he explicitly identifies Clint Eastwood, Lee Van Cleef, and Eli Wallach as (respectively) "the Good," "the Bad," and "the Ugly."

He does this at the beginning and the end of the film by writing these words on the screen during a freeze frame of each character.

How is it, then, that the theatrical trailer misidentifies Wallach as "the Bad" and Van Cleef as "the Ugly"? Leone made the identifications pretty clear.

The problem is with the identifications themselves. On the one hand, none of the three characters in the film is actually good. They are all vicious criminals out to make a buck.

Despite being explicitly identified as "the Good," Clint Eastwood's very first act in the film is to gun down three innocent men to keep them from lawfully claiming a bounty that he wants to claim himself. While he does do one genuinely altruistic thing in the movie (comfort a dying soldier toward the end, at very little cost to himself), he is–as the final line of the movie says–"a dirty S.O.B." (Only the final line doesn't say "S.O.B." but what it stands for.)

In terms of moral rectitude, Eli Wallach's character actually has a better claim on the term "good." He does bad things, but it's clear that he has a more robust conscience than the other two title characters, and while he isn't above taking revenge, he doesn't gratuitously kill people like the other two.

Ultimately the primary good that Eastwood has in comparison to the other two is good looks. Both Wallach and Van Cleef could vie for the title "the Ugly" (as the theatrical trailer made clear).

The one identification that is really solid, though, is "the Bad." 

That is Van Cleef's character in spades. He is a brutal, sociopathic killer whose villainy dwarfs those of his title companions.

In this movie.

The thing is, he wasn't like that at all in the previous movie. He was a good guy. Gooder, even, than Eastwood's character! Which only adds to the cognitive dissonance until you figure out he's not playing the same character.

And it's not like Leone helps you with this. The Eastwood and Van Cleef characters are meant to evoke the ones they played in the second film. Eastwood still wears the same hat, the same brown poncho, and smokes the same little cigars. Van Cleef is still better dressed and smoking a pipe. And they're both still gunslingers. Visually they are the same, but they're not the same people.

It's like … Invasion of the Character Snatchers or something.

Or at least like an episode of The Goon Show, where protagonist Neddie Seagoon can be prime minister of England one week and a private detective the next and a postal inspector the third.

The basic plot of the movie is as old as The Pardoner's Tale: Three thieves competing for a stash of gold.

It's a well told tale in the sense that it has a lot of interesting, inventive stuff in it. There are twists and surprises. In fact, given the length of the film, one at times feels like there may be a few too many twists and surprises.

The Eli Wallach character is the true soul of the movie. It's more about him than about the other two. And he is an interesting, rambunctious, comedic, and annoying character. He is capable of getting the best laughs of the film and the most pathos. You feel for him in a way you can't for Van Cleef or Eastwood–the first because he is pure evil and the second because he is pure stoic.

Sergio Leone reportedly said, "I like Clint Eastwood because he has only two facial expressions: one with the hat, and one without it."

Like the previous two movies, his one has amazing music and scenery, both effectively used by Leone. 

In fact, it may have a little too much music. Leone reportedly could not bring himself to cut some shots because he wanted to let the music play out, thus adding to the film's bulk and slowing its pacing.

The pacing is the single biggest flaw in terms of craft with the film. Leone has become too self-indulgent in the film. There is a point, about two hours into the movie, where they've set up all the pieces they need for the climax and they could proceed directly to the conclusion, but you realize, "Oh, no! They're going to insert a whole 'nother act before they let us get to the conclusion! Just so that the director can make his 'futility of war' statement, we have to take a big, huge plot detour."

When we finally get to the climax, though, it's a good one. And, oddly, the pacing isn't the problem that it has been up to now.

I didn't believe it at first but the climactic, Mexican standoff between the three characters in this film really does go on for five minutes! (I timed it.)

I thought it could have been cut a little, but it is so gripping that I felt like a character in a Monty Python sketch, declaring, "That was never five minutes just now!"

Oh, and speaking of humor, that's one thing that this movie has much more than the other two. It really does have multiple laugh-out-loud moments and some great zingers in the script.

Like its predecessors,it is both compelling and flawed. It's easy to see why it is considered a classic of the genre. It's by far the most ambitious of the three films, which leads both to its best and worst elements.

Morally it is unsatisfying. Clint Eastwood just is not "the Good" that the title promises. He's not even "the Good" relative to the two other characters. Eli Wallach is just as good as Eastwood. and the very ending (after the showdown is over), while not sad like that of the Pardoner's Tale, comes off as contrived.

Still, it's a landmark film in the history of Westerns, and it's loaded with style and camp appeal.

For A Few Dollars More

Fewdollars The second installment of the Man with No Name trilogy is the film For a Few Dollars More (two-disc edition).

(For my review of the first film, see: A Fistful of Dollars.)

This time they translated the title from Italian correctly!

Unfortunately, while it's a good title in itself, it doesn't perfectly reflect the content of the movie–in at least two respects.

First, we aren't talking about "a few dollars." The number of dollars that are on the line in this movie is huge. Better than $40,000–which was an enormous sum back in the 1880s/1890s, when the film presumably takes place. As Lee Van Cleef tells Clint Eastwood at one point, he stands to be "rich" if his plans meet with success.

Second, the title doesn't point to a man's-inhumanity-to-man story nearly as well as the first film's true title ("For a Fistful of Dollars"). Why? Because in this film Clint Eastwood's character–the Man with No Name–isn't a drifter out to make a buck and willing to amorally play two sides against each other to get it.

Instead, he's a bounty hunter. And thus, in principle, he is an agent of law and justice.

Sure, the rule of law was shaky in the Old West, and justice was often hard to come by, but the work Eastwood's character does is in principle on the side of the angels.

He may be rough-edged, but he's doing work that needs to be done.

Oddly, perhaps in an attempt to preserve some of the moral ambiguity of the first film, Eastwood and others like him are referred to as "bounty killers" rather than bounty hunters, but it's clear that they aren't simply soulless killers–a fact that the conclusion of the movie more than amply demonstrates.

As a result, this got an A-III (adults) from the U.S. bishops' movie review service rather than an O (morally offensive) or an L (limited adult audiences, which then would have been styled A-IV, adults with reservations, if I understand correctly).

The A-III rating is probably about right.

The fact that the film is on safer moral ground means that I don't have to say as much about the plot and so can leave more plot elements unspoiled in providing a review.

What I will note is that Eastwood's character starts out, again, as a ultracool, supercompetent, Old West Mary Sue, just like he was in the first film.

So how do you top that?

Confront him with his equal: another Mary Sue.

Enter Lee Van Cleef.

Van Cleef plays another ultracool, supercompetent Old West bounty hunter . . . uh, bounty killer.

But he's different than Eastwood, you see? He's older. And he uses different weapons. And while Eastwood is always smoking a cigar, Van Cleef is always smoking a pipe. Get it? These two characters are totally different, while they're also totally the same.

(Memo to both characters: Smoking during a gunfight is a Bad Idea. You don't need extra distractions. I'm sure that this is covered in the NRA gun safety course. Please review!)

And like any two such larger-than-life characters, what's the first thing they have to do? If you've ever read an issue of Marvel Team-Up or Marvel Two-In-One, you guess right: Fight each other!

But before you can say "Epic of Gilgamesh" (or at least "Gilgamesh and Enkidu at Uruk"), they've become friends.

Sort of.

Partners, at least. 

And their partnership will be tested.

Why that is the case is a little hard for me to fathom. With 40,000 1885-dollars on the line, it seems that there is plenty to share! (Especially when it turns out that money isn't the only motive involved here. This isn't just about "a few dollars more.")

We also get more of the stunning visuals and haunting music that are series trademarks. The plot is nicely complicated, though it doesn't have the same element of mystery as in the first film. The first time around Eastwood's character was clearly way ahead of the game and part of the fun was trying to figure out what he was planning. There's some of that here, but not as much.

One thing that does recur–and probably necessarily so–is a scene in which Eastwood gets the snot beaten out of him. Only this time he isn't alone. Van Cleef get's the same treatment–at the same time–again with a maniacally laughing villain in the background.

The reason that this scene is necessary is that we're watching two ultracompetent characters playing their opponents for fools. We need their luck to run out at some point. To create real drama (as opposed to simple wish-fulfillment) the bad guys need to become a credible threat at some point. If you haven't established that early in the picture, you need to do it before the climax or the climax won't have the punch you need.

Back in the 60s, when these came out with a year between them, the similarity probably would have gone unnoticed, but watching the movies back to back I found myself thinking, "Hey, didn't I just watch this same scenealso at the 3/4 mark–in the previous film?"

Another minor annoyance in the film is that–despite the fact that Clint Eastwood is famously playing "the Man with No Name" (something explicitly pointed out as early as the theatrical trailer for the first film)–they appear to give him a name in this film: Manco.

Actually, that's not a name but a nickname. "Manco" is Spanish for "one-armed," and supposedly Eastwood does almost everything in the movie with his left hand, only using his right hand to shoot. Or that's the claim. Personally, I didn't notice that and didn't care enough to keep track. It's too much of a subtlety, as is expecting an English-speaking audience to know what "manco" means in Spanish.

Despite its flaws, For a Few Dollars More is probably the most watchable film of the trilogy. It's less ingenious but more fun than the first film. Watching Eastwood and Van Cleef outcool and play headgames with each other is definitely fun. The film is also less ambitious–and thus less drawn out–than the third film. 

Too bad that, as the middle child of the trilogy, it's probably the most overlooked of the three.

A Fistful of Dollars

Fistful I recently watched the Man with No Name trilogy–also known as the Dollars trilogy–starring Cling Eastwood. 

This series originally came out when I was a baby (pre- and post-born), and if my parents took me to it when it was in theaters, I have no memory of it.

What I do remember is my dad's copy of the album (remember vinyl?) and the haunting, wailing, chanting music that was used to score the films.

I never saw them growing up (this was pre-cable and pre-VCR), but I finally got around to watching them, and thought I'd review them here.

The first film–A Fistful of Dollars (2-disc edition here)–features Clint Eastwood as a wandering gunslinger with no money. Not surprising, since the film was inspired by Akira Kurosawa's film Yojimbo, which features Toshiro Mifune as a ronin, a wandering samurai who doesn't serve any master.

Clint Eastwood's character has no name. What he also doesn't have is a well defined sense of morals. Upon learning that the Mexican town in which he has arrived is dominated by two rival families–the Rojas and the Baxters–he decides to make money for himself by playing the two sides off against each other. He alternately hires himself out two both groups, sometimes at the same time.

And large numbers of people die as a result.

This was part of director Sergio Leone (operating under the absurdly Americanesque pseudonym "Bob Robertson")'s effort to reinvent the Western film genre using more morally ambiguous characters and even anti-heroes.

The film's point is somewhat blunted by the slight mistranslation of the title from Italian. In Italian the title would literally translate as "For a Fistful of Dollars"–i.e., that's why Clint Eastwood's character started the bloodbath in the first place, a grim statement about man's capacity for inhumanity.

The Man with No Name isn't completely sociopathic, however. He does do one, major, genuinely selfless thing in the movie, which is to help a captive family escape. When the mother in the family asks him why, he says that he knew someone like her once (his own mother?) but there was no one there to help.

Ironically, this proves to be his big mistake. Up to this point, the character has been a total, supercompetent, gun-slinging Mary Sue, who can not only shoot better than anyone else but who is also five steps ahead of the people on both sides.

To keep the character from being totally consumed by Mary Sueness, he needs to be taken down a peg, and when his act of kindness is discovered Eastwood is beaten to a pulp while one of the villains laughs maniacally.

Eventually one of the families massacres the other, and Eastwood–in an impressive and inventive final duel–brings a kind of belated justice to the conclusion.

At the end of the movie he rides off with his dollars (which are rather more than a fistful; he made out well from these two families) and the audience is left to contemplate the morality–or lack of it–of his actions.

This got an O (morally offensive) rating from the U.S. bishops' film review service.

Though I wonder if it would today. Back in the 1960s, when this came out, the kind of brutal violence that the film contains would have been quite a bit more shocking than today.

Actually, the violence is amazingly bloodless. It's basically "bang, you're dead." One shot per customer; no visible wounds; the victim falls over and doesn't move again. What's startling is that Eastwood will do it to three people right in a row–bang! bang! bang! And we get a hip-level camera shot, so it's rather like watching a first-person shooter game.

Also, if the title had been properly translated it would have been clearer that the filmmakers are showing what man can do for a fistful of dollars but they're not approving of it.

In other words, we've got a man's inhumanity to man story here.

I probably would have given it an L (limited adult audience) rating.

While Leone was trying to get away from some of the cliches of Westerns, he was only partially successful. The film embraces as many cliches as it eschews.

On the positive side, the film has beautiful visuals (who knew that Andalusia in Spain looks so much like the deserts of Northern Mexico and the American Southwest?), haunting music, an intricate plot with a good number of twists and surprises (which I have not spoiled), and something to think about: How justifiable–or not–are Eastwood's actions at different turns.

It's easy to see why it was popular (very popular), why it's considered an iconic film, a classic of the genre–and why it got a couple of sequels.

I’m Not Sure That I Approve of This Post

History_channel_logo But it's brilliant.

And hilarious.

And disturbing.

And ironic.

And it definitely awakened my inner TV plot-analyzer instincts.

And the author is right. The History Channel really should try to "add artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative."

GET THE STORY.

(CHT: Instapundit.)

I also agree with what the author says about Babylon 5 and Doctor Who (mostly).

Attention Losties! I Need Your Help!

LOST  I've got a problem.

A few years ago, when the first season of LOST came out on DVD, I watched a few episodes and concluded several things:

1) This is a really good show.

2) This is a really demanding show.

3) This is a show I really don't have time to watch right now.

So I decided that I'd wait until it was all done and watch it all on DVD (or download, or whatever). That's what I'm planning to do now.

And I know that when I'm done with it, I'll want to hear about what everyone thought of he finale.

Trouble is . . . everyone wants to talk about the finale right now, not when I'm done with it and everyone's memories are dim and the excitement about talking about it isn't there.

On the other hand, I don't want to read others comments on the end now, because I don't want to be spoiled!

Fortunately, Mother Technology provides a solution . . . this blog post!

I'd like to invite Losties to opine in the combox about what they thought of the finale. That way, you get to have your say here on the blog now, while it's fresh in your mind and you're all excited and/or full of loathing, and I get to read your comments later on, without being spoiled before I've seen the show. (I'll also let you know what I thought once I've finished it.)

Sound like a fair deal?

I hope so. It's better than waiting a year for a Battlestar Galactica finale review, anyway.

So I hope you'll become a willing co-conspirator in this plan.

If you need some Catholic LOST analysis to get you started, I suggest this piece by my fellow blogger over at the Register, Danielle Bean.

What do you think?

The Changing Economics of Animation

Chamallaron Longtime readers of the blog know that I have interests in technology and economics and in how the former is impacting the latter.

One of the ways it is doing so is changing the world of entertainment. In times past, as it has been said, freedom of the press belonged to those who owned a press–presses being expensive things that most people didn't have. But with the Internet, everyone can have the equivalent of a press if they want it, and the blogosphere is radically changing things.

So are electronic publishing and print-on-demand services.

Something similar is happening in the world of film. Now ordinary folks can make films on the cheap and distribute them in ways that would never have been possible before. Like the fan-produced film I blogged last year, The Hunt For Gollum.

New technology is also affecting the world of animation. Not only is traditional animation being impacted by computer generated animation at the studio level, it's also being impacted as the level of ordinary folks, with people using machinima to produce series like Red vs. Blue.

Machinima (a Japanese-esque variation on the word "machine") commonly involves taking the cgi-producing graphics engine of a video game and re-purposing it to serve as the cgi-engine for the user's own videos. In other words, you're hijacking a game's graphics capabilities to make your own movies.

The premier example of this is the afore-mentioned Red vs. Blue, which is often hilarious but which also often involves bad language (so be warned).

Machinima typically involves using a technology in a way other than what it was designed for, but that's not the only way technology is impacting animation by ordinary people.

"So what does all this have to do with Kara Thrace?" you are asking.

Well, we are now at the dawn of text-to-animation services, such as those offered by XtraNormal.Com, where their slogan is, "If you can type, you can make movies."

With their service, you type in a script, with stage directions that their software can make sense of, and it produces a short CGI movie that you can upload to YouTube or whatever.

I've been tempted to try it myself, but . . . y'know . . . stuff.

And the technology is still at a primitive stage. . . . So Far. (Expect this to change radically and rapidly. Y'know, within our lifetimes type stuff.)

This hasn't stopped YouTube user HighlandsTechno (or people connected to him) from using the service to produce a series of Galactica-related videos.

Some of these involve people from their web board (wherever it is), who ask questions of Ron Moore in the wake of the Galactica finale (which makes this a surprise bonus post on the finale, yay!)

For some reason (not quite sure why, but not trying too hard to guess, either), Ron Moore is depicted in these videos as a clown. Go figure.

(BTW, "Ron"'s responses aren't authentic, either. They're what the creators suppose his responses might be–commedically.)

One video is by ChamallaExtract/Mo, who asks "Ron" some questions regarding Kara Thrace.

I find myself much in agreement with him. Like him, I don't need a technical explanation of how everything that happened with her, but I would like a little more clarity regarding what happened.

Specifically: I don't mind her suddenly disappearing after her angelic nature had been revealed (angels do things like that), but when did she actually become an angel?

Was it when her ship blew up over the gas giant? If so, why did we find her body (which should have been blown into itty-bitty pieces) on Old Earth? Was it when she returned from the dead and met Lee in the season 3 finale? Had she always been angel, the whole time we knew the character? Was she an angel appearing in the form of a pigeon to Lee in the series finale flashbacks? What about her apparent human (Colonial marine) mother and apparent angelic (struggling musician) father?

And how shocking is it that Baltar would find Kara's blood on her dog tags when Kara herself provided those dog tags to Baltar? What does that prove?

I'm not looking for full, detailed explanations but for . . . something Moore.

Anyway, here's the video:

Also, there are similar videos telling the story of the making of the series.They also include adolescent jokes and bad language so, y'know, viewer beware.

And that's how animation is changing.

Amazing how far we've come technologically, and how far we haven't. 

What are your thoughts?

Okay, Let’s Talk Galactica Finale (Part 4)

Hour3  In this post we’ll look at the third and last hour of the Galactica finale, Daybreak (summary here: Act 6 to Act 10).

The first act of this hour–Act 6–is the climax of the entire series. These ten minutes are where it all comes to a head. After this, it’s a comfortable downhill ride (so we’re going to have more to say about it than anything else).

When we last saw our heroes, a tentative truce had just been worked out and everybody stood down from active combat.

The basis of the truce was the Final Five’s offer to Cavil resurrection technology if he would release Hera, who he was holding hostage.

Cavil agreed.

Continue reading “Okay, Let’s Talk Galactica Finale (Part 4)”

Okay, Let’s Talk Galactica Finale (Part 3)

Hour3b  In this post we'll look at the second hour of the Galactica finale, Daybreak (summary here: Act 1 to Act 5).

The hour opens with flashbacks to Caprica before the Fall illustrating why Caprica deserved to fall (the Tigh/Ellen/Adama club scene; ick).

Across town, Kara is having dinner with Lee and Zak,and Roslin is becoming . . . uh . . . involved with one of her former students.

We get small moments of illumination into these characters, but . . . none are as interesting as the already resolved flashback story involving Baltar and his father.

Speaking of Baltar, meanwhile back in the future, Baltar's cult is preparing to leave Galactica, and expecting him to go with it, but Head Six appears and tells Baltar to trust God's plan. 

END OF ACT 1

Continue reading “Okay, Let’s Talk Galactica Finale (Part 3)”

A Moment of Fringey, Comicy Goodness

Justice-league-mock_cvr1_layout-11  So the Fringe season 2 finale has aired, and I really liked it.

I'm still planning on doing an intro post to the series to invite people who want to try out the show so that they can catch up over the summer before season 3 starts this September (yes! it has been renewed!), so I'm not going to spoil anything in this post (please likewise don't in the combox).

At least, I'm not going to spoil anything significant. Just a minor moment that deals with something never even explicitly mentioned by the characters.

It displays the kind of creativity and subtlety that the show regularly displays. Unlike many shows, the creators of Fringe regularly load the show with easter eggs that will delight the sharp-eyed, attentive viewers–like the mysterious man who rarely has any dialog but who appears in every single episode, usually just walking through the shot or standing around in a crowd scene, allowing in-the-know viewers to have a live action version of Where's Waldo? every episode (and yes, this character does have a crucial role in the overall series arc).

Another easter egg appeared in the in the finale, where at one point we are in a hotel room in an alternate universe and the wall is decorated with framed comic book covers, which can be seen only out-of-focus in the background.

As I watched the scene, I said, "Hey, that's the cover of the first issue of the revived Justice League from the 1980s. I have that comic! And that one's The Dark Knight Returns #1! And on a show like this they've got to have a cover from Crisis on Infinite Earths. Do they? They do! Woo-hoo! I've got all of these!"

Except that I don't.

As became apparent when one of the covers came just enough into focus to make it recognizable as a famous Green Lantern/Green Arrow cover. Not that I don't have that issue (I think I've got it in a trade paperback edition), but because this is an alternate universe and it's actually a cover of Red Lantern/Red Arrow!

So now I knew that all of the covers were "alternate" in some way.

But what ways?

By happenstance, I found good-resolution versions of all of them on DC's blog.

YOU CAN LOOK AT THEM HERE.

DC made them up for the producers of Fringe, and they're all versions of comic covers that were famous in one way or another–in our universe.

I love the re-casting of Guy Gardner from the original cover as Jonah Hex! That works!

Also, the DC blog post is newbie-safe if you don't want to be spoiled on Fringe and just want to see the covers. They don't spoil anything in the blog post (I can't vouch for the comments because, y'know, always in motion the future is).

Now if I can just find a good-res version of the alternate map of the United States from the show.

I'm given to understand that Texas is two different states, and I want to see which one I (or the alternate me) was born in. (Since I was born in Corpus Christi, right down at the bottom of the point of Texas, I'm pretty sure I'm from South Texas, but I want to be see for myself.)