The Big Whatsit

After watching enough movies to fill a good chapter of Halliwell’s, it’s always good to come across an acknowledged classic that I haven’t seen, and find out that it is indeed every bit as brilliant as its golden reputation.

Such were my conclusions following the very first time I sat down with The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. This was only several months ago, the reason being that - in some bizarre strain of logic - it’s a bloody western, isn’t it? As a child, if my Grandad was looking after me there was nothing he liked doing more than settling in front of some sub-John Ford fodder. If I was lucky, it would star John Wayne, the surest sign of quality. Otherwise, it was a shameless rip-off, featuring a plot that had been churned out countless times previously. Needless to say, as a kid addicted to all things Star Wars, I was never more bored. Clearly, I was far too young to appreciate the debt George Lucas owed to films exactly like these, and though that changed in later years, my dread of the hated western didn’t lessen. Hey, I tried The Searchers, and couldn’t get into it. Unforgiven was more like it, and I reckon I must have watched the two Young Guns films just because they featured the hot stars of the day.

However, it took all this time to witness the full 171 minutes that is Sergio Leone’s Il Bruno, il Brutto, il Cattivo, as the Internet Movie Datathingie correctly calls it. When I did, two thoughts crossed my mind (i) Where has it been all my life? (ii) When can I watch it again? I was hooked, to the extent I’ve probably slipped it on the player once per month ever since. Enticed by that legendary Morricone title theme, the recommendation of Quentin Tarantino, its fifth place on the IMDb Top 250, and word of mouth, I learned that everything I had heard was right. It’s a true classic. If I had a personal top ten, and I could probably drag one out on request, it would fit in there effortlessly. In 2006, it was the most watched DVD in my collection, nudging out Kingdom of Heaven (the best release of last year, in my humble), and yesterday found it get its first airing of 2007.

Those who have seen it - and probably many who haven’t - already know all the above, and I’m not going to waste your time and mine with a story rehash and the like. Rather, I prefer a simple bullet-pointed list of reasons why I want to watch it again and again. The real reason, of course, is that as with all the best flicks, there’s something new to focus on with every viewing - a dimension I might have missed, one of the principals who perhaps didn’t figure so strongly previously, the bleak expanse of Andalucia that makes up the locations. But here, for what they’re worth are my excuses for revisiting:

• The first ten minutes. TGTBATU opens with a landscape shot, before we get a close-up of a man’s face. Aged by constant exposure to the sun and with a haunted look in his eyes, this guy means business. Soon enough, he’s joined by two fellows, the characters encountering each other in an empty, haunted town, all tumbleweed and abandoned carriages. In the film, everyone looks like these men. There isn’t a clean-shaven innocent to be found. Each and every character appears desperate in some way, whether it be for money, the Civil War or just out of a pressing urge to survive. Leone cast mainly Italians or Spaniards as his extras, and it shows - there’s no sense of American well fedness about any of them. The treats are only just starting, though. I chose the first ten minutes specifically because no one speaks during it. We get music, action, violence and men staring at each other whilst eating, but no talk. It’s an almost impossible time to imagine them running this amount of film without any dialogue, yet it works. Just before the chat kicks in, we watch Angel Eyes (Lee Van Cleef) spooning his stew and staring back at us, though in the movie he’s fixed on his target, Stevens. Angel Eyes looks amused, and we’re not really sure why. What’s clear is that he’s going to kill Stevens. There’s something about his manner that ensures we just know it - is it the impudent way he helps himself to Stevens’ meal, the fact he’s walked unannounced into the other’s home, or the simpler truth that just by looking at him, we can tell he’s a heartless killer? Whatever it is, it’s one of the most amazing starts to a film ever.
• The Civil War background. For a three-hour epic, TGTBATU has an incredibly slight plot. There’s so little to it I can cover the story in one sentence - Three dangerous men go on a search for buried treasure, and each of them possesses one clue over where it’s located. That’s about it. How could Leone possibly sustain this paper-thin premise over such a long running time? The answer, in part, was to set it during the American Civil War, and have the conflict impact directly on the fortunes of the leads. The effect is devastating. Not only does the film suggest that no one’s life was untouched by it, we also get a horribly realistic glimpse of what life was like for those who fought. These days, war movies are gritty by decree. Nobody can produce one without showing just how bloody, snotty and gut-wrenching it was for the soldiers. TGTBATU doesn’t quite do this, focusing away from battles to depict soldiers as prisoners, as camps of wounded, abandoned men, as torturers. It doesn’t seem to matter who’s winning. Everyone’s having a crap time, whether we’re looking at failing Confederates or Unionists on the brink of victory. The message is clear - war is hell. It was Orson Welles who infamously advised Leone to cut the Civil War from his script, on the basis nobody would be interested. Thankfully for all of us, the tip was ignored.
• The cemetery scene. Possibly the best known moment in the entire film is the climactic stand-off between Blondie, Angel Eyes and Tuco. The whole scene lasts an age, as three characters who we’ve followed throughout a whole mess of trouble reach this point, and it couldn’t be more electrifying. As the camera flicks from man to man, gradually zooming in to close ups of their eyes and pistol-drawing hands, Morricone’s music gets ever more feverish. Just when you think one of them must draw, the suspense keeps on rising, and rising. I don’t know how Leone had the courage to spin it out this long, to sustain the moment without getting it over with. Somehow, it’s a triumph.
• Tuco. Clint Eastwood features on the posters, and in the years since TGTBATU has become one of cinema’s most identifiable, bankable stars. I don’t want to dismiss Lee Van Cleef either. His portrayal of Angel Eyes is a consummate study in evil. But it’s Eli Wallach as Tuco, the ‘Ugly,’ who emerges the strongest. Of the three main characters, he is charged with pulling everything together. Despite the very best efforts of most of the cast, he manages to stay alive throughout, at more than one point wearing a noose around his neck, on other occasions conning and threatening people to get where he needs to be. A little like Gaius Balthar in Battlestar Galactica, he may seem comic, but what really defines him is his enormous capacity for self-preservation. I guess Blondie and Angel Eyes are fairly straightforward on the whole. You know the latter is nastiness dressed in black, just as you’re well aware ‘The Good’ deserves that description in more ways than one. Tuco’s an enigma. Sometimes, he’s comic and almost loveable in his eagerness to stay in Blondie’s good books. Yet it’s obvious he’s wholly dangerous and capable of dark deeds, such as when he resolves to lead Blondie into the desert, at gunpoint and with only death from heat exhaustion and thirst to look forward to. Perhaps his key scene is the one with his brother, who has become a monk. With God on his side, Father Ramirez has the thoroughly odious Tuco bang to rights, only to be floored when it’s put to him he should have turned to a life of crime to help support his family.
• “Can you help me live a little more? I expect good news.” So says Aldo Giuffre, playing a Confederacy captain and alcoholic who lies dying on a stretcher as a bridge is attacked from both sides by opposing units. In his limited screen time, Giuffre gives an unforgettable and touching performance as someone so disillusioned with the war he’s climbed inside a bottle to escape it. The way he welcomes two desperadoes like Tuco and Blondie into his army, and then spends time chatting with them like an old buddy, shows just how far down the moral slope he’s slipped. He hates the bridge, and it’s only when our ‘heroes’ detonate it to pieces that he can die with a smile on his face.
• The dying young soldier. Blondie and Tuco come across a boy who is close to death. As the latter takes greedy advantage of the moment to steal away on a horse, Blondie covers the soldier with his coat and offers him some last tokes from his ever-present cigar, the smoke leaving the young man’s mouth lazily as he slips away.
• Ennio Morricone. Even as I write this, knowing I have to wrap it up before I give too much away, the soundtrack to TGTBATU is playing. Quite simply, it’s unbeatable, perhaps the most perfect accompaniment to what’s happening on the screen of them all. Apart from the celebrated title track and the cemetery scene, you could pick any of his incidental pieces as a favourite. I have three. The first happens early, as Stevens’ young son watches Angel Eyes approaching. The music is both light and foreboding. Trouble’s clearly on the horizon. Tarantino pinched this brief piece to mark the first appearance of Bill in Kill Bill Volume 2, and he wasn’t wrong to do so. The second is more dolesome, and plays as Angel Eyes comes across a ruined fort of dead or dying soldiers. As the music begins to fade, we hear battle trumpets dying quietly in the background. And finally, the torture scene. Tuco is being punched to pieces by Angel Eyes’ henchman whilst in a prisoner-of-war camp. Outside, to mask the commotion, a loose band of captured Confederates are made to play a sad tune that is filled with regret, whilst Blondie is informed this happens every time someone is being tortured.

I’m sure there are many more dimensions, moments and scenes I can pick out, and perhaps one day I’ll return to this topic to give them the space they deserve. In truth, it’ll take another viewing to perhaps come across something that strikes me right away as sublime (knowing the film, it’ll be sublimely horrific), but whereas with my first showing I chose the obvious bits as the standout moments (the cemetery scene, Blondie’s desert march, cigar smoking, Tuco in the store), I’m pleased to find that each time since then I’ve enjoyed more of its diverse elements.

The DVD cost a pitiful £5.99, and you can also get it for around fifteen quid, in a handsome box set that also features A Fistful of Dollars, and For a Few Dollars More. My two-disc edition contains restored footage, and an upgraded 5.1 Dolby surround that highlights Morricone’s score to ravishing effect. On the second disc are enough ‘Making of’ extras to make me wallow in even more Leonery.

According to the DVD’s booklet, this movie was nearly called The Magnificent Rogues. Not a bad title by most people’s standards, but how amazingly cool is it to come across such a beautiful piece of work that proudly contains the word ‘ugly’ in its name?