The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly

There is something profoundly satisfying for me when I watch a Sergio Leone film. Why just last night I sat down and watched both "Once Upon A Time In The West" and "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly". I don't know if I need to say this, but that is a six hour commitment. Once Upon A Time In The West is of course fantastic. Grand in scope with a story of revenge. And the dialogue is so crazy and fantastic at the same time.

"The reward for this man is 5000 dollars, is that right?"
Judas was content for 4970 dollars less."
"There were no dollars in them days."
"But sons of bitches... yeah."

or

"So, you found out you're not a businessman after all."
"Just a man."
"An ancient race."

By contrast "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" is almost devoid of dialogue. The story not exactly the most conventional. Yet it is more ambitious than most. What you should probably know: Three men learn about 200,000 dollars worth of gold buried in a cemetery. Each has a key to the puzzle of where and each would prefer if the other two were dead. What you need to know: The Good, Blondie (Clint Eastwood) is relatively good. He doesn't kill without reason and he'll let a man who swears he is going to kill him go out of some sense of nobility. The Bad, Angel Eyes (Lee Van Cleef) is bad, really bad, willing to beat a woman for information, and brutally. Finally The Ugly, Tucco (Eli Wallach) is a loud talking, amoral criminal who never forgets the wrongs done to him.

But I can't stress enough it isn't per se about the story. From the opening cords of a soundtrack that just tells you what you are about to see is epic, we find ourselves immersed in an introduction that lasts 30 minutes. A full one sixth of the movie is just devoted to telling you exactly what kind of men the players are. And from there it meanders its way to the finish line but not in a boring way but in a big scale way.

There are so many things I could talk about with this film. The way people seem to hide in plain sight as Roger Ebert commented, as if the characters on screen are capable of only seeing what is in frame. I could talk about the five minute long three person standoff that is the climax of the film. How Blondie at one point says, "six, the perfect number" and Angel Eyes responds "I thought three was the perfect number". A line that so utterly foreshadows the final showdown that if it wasn't intentional then the gods of movies made it so. I could talk about the ridiculously ambitious Civil War sequence.

But what struck me most last night was Tuco. Perhaps one of the most fabulously richly developed characters ever. It surely must be partly writing, it surely must be partly Mr. Eli Wallach. From his desperate entrance in the opening moments of the film, we see him slovenly, unkempt and holding food in one hand, his freshly fired gun in the other. Tuco is a wanted man, with a long rap sheet (comically listed off in partial at several points).

Tuco has a con going with Blondie, his "friend", if such a man can have friends. Loud mouthed, Tuco doesn't know when to shut up. Always cursing and talking big even on the point of being hanged. Equal parts gutless and unforgiving, warns those who betray him that they better make sure he is dead. Tuco is always on, so much so that you might start to dislike him. You might think, he's too much. Then midway through the film we are introduced to a scene you don't really see coming.

A scene in a monastery with his brother. Taking everything in stride, the confrontation with his brother is the most revealing of scenes. A sad reality settles on you. Tuco is who he is for a reason. Tuco had to survive, always to survive and Tuco learned a cold truth. You just can't trust anyone. Blondie witnesses this whole scene silently. After this, as Tuco and Blondie leave, Tuco can't help but comment.

He lets Blondie know how good a brother he has. How truly blessed he is. Blondie accepts this lie despite having witnessed the confessional. And then Tuco is back, veil once again up, vulnerability gone. And yet you can't help but think about everything up to this point and you can't help but go back to this scene in the future. You can't help but think, my oh my, Blondie really is the only friend Tuco has, and how sad and unsettling that is.

This film is often considered the third in the "Man With No Name" trilogy (A Fistful of Dollars and For A Few Dollars More being the first two). But to me this film is about Tuco, not Blondie. And if it had nothing else (and by no means does it, for it has a plethora) it would be worth it just for that.