The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1968)
Taken from a larger piece on The Man With No Name Trilogy
While many count For a Few Dollars More as the pinnacle of the Man with No Name Trilogy, nothing beats the epic quality of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly (’68). If we are to believe what Leone always said about his films, that they were “fairytales for adults,” then the final film in his trilogy takes on a mythic quality, augmented by its nearly three hour run time. Standoffs are elongated to build tension, close-ups are even more extreme, often capturing nothing more than the gunfighter’s eyes, and the film moves from a simple hunt for buried treasure to encompass the horrors of war in a panoramic overview of the American Civil War. As the title indicates, Leone and his co-screenwriters maintained the triangulated storyline from the earlier films, this time having Eastwood’s “Blondie” partner with criminal Tuco (Eli Wallach) against a cold-blooded killer (Van Cleef) to locate $200,000 in gold stolen from the Union Army. The on again, off again partnership begins as a scam with Blondie turning Tuco in for a reward, then shooting his noose before he can hang, but relies on mis-trust and betrayal. Leone noted that while the title and the title sequence defines the characters, there are no absolutes in their personalities, giving the film an even richer texture than the early two.
Leone also felt he was able to make the film he wanted, free from budget restrictions and doubts about his talent and style. The immense success of the earlier films lured American film distributor United Artists in as a financier, providing what would become a $1.3 million dollar budget, more than six times that of Fistful of Dollars. In fact, UA bought the film on the basis of a one sentence story idea of “three rogues looking for some treasure at the time of the American Civil War” (Frayling, p.202). Leone utilized the extra money to create a sweeping and tragic comment on the futility and barbary of war, culminating in the amazing destruction of a bridge dividing the two warring sides, used to maintain a cruel stalemate of deadly attack and retreat death marches.
The bridge itself was actually blown up twice for the production, with the first explosion not captured on film, due to over eagerness of a Spanish army major misinterpreting Leone’s hand gestures. Eastwood and Wallach were to be positioned right near the bridge at the time of the explosion, but after seeing the immense explosion insisted on being right near the camera, just in front of their intrepid director. Once the Spanish army rebuilt the bridge, at their own expense, the crew returned to the site to capture what is seen in the film, complete with flying debris that still nearly engulfs the position where Wallach and Eastwood actually hid and obliterating the location Leone originally wanted them. The scene, complete with the deterministic death of the Union officer, enforces the film’s sentiments towards war and foreshadows the location of the final, iconic scene of the film.
While the enormous scope of the film elevates it from the other two, it is Ennio Morricone’s stylistic and memorable score that sets the film apart. Although Morricone had scored the earlier films, using his unique blend of instruments, vocalizations and styles, it is in The Good, The Bad, that his score blends perfectly with the story and the images to create mood and emotion in an unparalleled manner. The iconic melody is repeated throughout, creating tension and anticipation. Morricone was finally recognized with an Oscar in 2016 for his score for Quentin Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight (’15), among his more than 500 film scores, none would be more recognizable than The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.
An additional thread running through all three films, but carrying larger weight in The Good, the Bad, is Leone’s subversion of religious iconography to color the space around the story with doom and godlessness. Nowhere is this more pronounced that in the iconic final scene in the Civil War cemetery. Surrounding by the evidence of man’s inhumanity towards his fellow man, the three protagonists duel for the right to take the buried gold. Murder surrounded by murder. Leone uses intense movement as Tuco searches for the grave, creating a dizzying effect for the viewer, an overwhelming sense of the infinite nature of the cemetery and the graves themselves. Even when the three rogues gather in the circle at the center of the cemetery there is no sense of calm because as the music and editing increase so too does the tension and anticipation. Cutting in closer and closer to the rogues, ultimately showing their eyes only, editing more quickly to again create a similarly dizzying effect, Leone creates one of the most intense and beguiling climax in movie history. The final gunshots jerk the viewer into stillness as the one rogue falls.
In a film full of futility, dishonor, betrayal and double-crosses, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly becomes perfection in the sum of all its parts. It is the culmination of Leone’s trilogy because it best captures and refines the tone and perspective that defined his style. Eastwood’s Man with No Name is the perfect anti-hero, the brother Leone never had, and the antithesis of the traditional Western hero. As noted, there are pieces of the historic Western, but they are circumvented and twisted to form something new, from top to bottom, not just for changes sake, but to expand the very generic definition of a Western. In the generations since Leone launched the Italian Western worldwide, there have been Westerns and action films that have riffed on what Leone created, but none have done it better than the original! Taken together, The Man with no Name trilogy may be the greatest piece of Western film ever created and taken separately, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly itself stands among the 10 best Westerns ever made.
While many count For a Few Dollars More as the pinnacle of the Man with No Name Trilogy, nothing beats the epic quality of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly (’68). If we are to believe what Leone always said about his films, that they were “fairytales for adults,” then the final film in his trilogy takes on a mythic quality, augmented by its nearly three hour run time. Standoffs are elongated to build tension, close-ups are even more extreme, often capturing nothing more than the gunfighter’s eyes, and the film moves from a simple hunt for buried treasure to encompass the horrors of war in a panoramic overview of the American Civil War. As the title indicates, Leone and his co-screenwriters maintained the triangulated storyline from the earlier films, this time having Eastwood’s “Blondie” partner with criminal Tuco (Eli Wallach) against a cold-blooded killer (Van Cleef) to locate $200,000 in gold stolen from the Union Army. The on again, off again partnership begins as a scam with Blondie turning Tuco in for a reward, then shooting his noose before he can hang, but relies on mis-trust and betrayal. Leone noted that while the title and the title sequence defines the characters, there are no absolutes in their personalities, giving the film an even richer texture than the early two.
Leone also felt he was able to make the film he wanted, free from budget restrictions and doubts about his talent and style. The immense success of the earlier films lured American film distributor United Artists in as a financier, providing what would become a $1.3 million dollar budget, more than six times that of Fistful of Dollars. In fact, UA bought the film on the basis of a one sentence story idea of “three rogues looking for some treasure at the time of the American Civil War” (Frayling, p.202). Leone utilized the extra money to create a sweeping and tragic comment on the futility and barbary of war, culminating in the amazing destruction of a bridge dividing the two warring sides, used to maintain a cruel stalemate of deadly attack and retreat death marches.
The bridge itself was actually blown up twice for the production, with the first explosion not captured on film, due to over eagerness of a Spanish army major misinterpreting Leone’s hand gestures. Eastwood and Wallach were to be positioned right near the bridge at the time of the explosion, but after seeing the immense explosion insisted on being right near the camera, just in front of their intrepid director. Once the Spanish army rebuilt the bridge, at their own expense, the crew returned to the site to capture what is seen in the film, complete with flying debris that still nearly engulfs the position where Wallach and Eastwood actually hid and obliterating the location Leone originally wanted them. The scene, complete with the deterministic death of the Union officer, enforces the film’s sentiments towards war and foreshadows the location of the final, iconic scene of the film.
While the enormous scope of the film elevates it from the other two, it is Ennio Morricone’s stylistic and memorable score that sets the film apart. Although Morricone had scored the earlier films, using his unique blend of instruments, vocalizations and styles, it is in The Good, The Bad, that his score blends perfectly with the story and the images to create mood and emotion in an unparalleled manner. The iconic melody is repeated throughout, creating tension and anticipation. Morricone was finally recognized with an Oscar in 2016 for his score for Quentin Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight (’15), among his more than 500 film scores, none would be more recognizable than The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.
An additional thread running through all three films, but carrying larger weight in The Good, the Bad, is Leone’s subversion of religious iconography to color the space around the story with doom and godlessness. Nowhere is this more pronounced that in the iconic final scene in the Civil War cemetery. Surrounding by the evidence of man’s inhumanity towards his fellow man, the three protagonists duel for the right to take the buried gold. Murder surrounded by murder. Leone uses intense movement as Tuco searches for the grave, creating a dizzying effect for the viewer, an overwhelming sense of the infinite nature of the cemetery and the graves themselves. Even when the three rogues gather in the circle at the center of the cemetery there is no sense of calm because as the music and editing increase so too does the tension and anticipation. Cutting in closer and closer to the rogues, ultimately showing their eyes only, editing more quickly to again create a similarly dizzying effect, Leone creates one of the most intense and beguiling climax in movie history. The final gunshots jerk the viewer into stillness as the one rogue falls.
In a film full of futility, dishonor, betrayal and double-crosses, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly becomes perfection in the sum of all its parts. It is the culmination of Leone’s trilogy because it best captures and refines the tone and perspective that defined his style. Eastwood’s Man with No Name is the perfect anti-hero, the brother Leone never had, and the antithesis of the traditional Western hero. As noted, there are pieces of the historic Western, but they are circumvented and twisted to form something new, from top to bottom, not just for changes sake, but to expand the very generic definition of a Western. In the generations since Leone launched the Italian Western worldwide, there have been Westerns and action films that have riffed on what Leone created, but none have done it better than the original! Taken together, The Man with no Name trilogy may be the greatest piece of Western film ever created and taken separately, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly itself stands among the 10 best Westerns ever made.
