In the last few years, we have lost a number of terrific actors that were the basis of our movie obsessions in the first place. 2016 , whether accurately or not, was seen as being particularly brutal. We might have hoped for a respite from bad news but in January, character actor Miguel Ferrer left us. He was just shy of being sixty two, and coincidentally, almost half his life ago, he made an amazing contribution to one of the greatest films of the 1980s. It is the 30th Anniversary of "Robocop", a movie that brought Mr, Ferrer to greater audience awareness and set the stage for characters that he would play for the rest of his career.
Last night, the American Cinematheque arranged a screening of the film and provided two wonderful guests to speak about the movie and their colleague. Peter Weller, Robocop himself, was present as was principle screenwriter Ed Neumeier. Weller was quite clear that he was mostly done talking about the film after an extensive promotional tour ten years ago for a box set release of the film and a 25th Anniversary salute he participated in five years ago. It was the cause of acknowledging his friend Miguel Ferrer that brought him out on this evening, and he along with Mr. Neumeier focused on the passion of the film making rather than all the geek related issues that he has talked about and which have been covered in other places for years.
Dr. Weller (he has a PhD in Renaissance Art from UCLA), showed his spirit from the start of the program. The Q and A was scheduled for after the screening, but when the dialogue track of the film was not coming through the sound system, he was the one who jumped up and notified the management. He and Neumeier then did an impromptu fifteen minutes while the technical issue was being fixed. At one point he jokingly incited the audience to riot because of the snafu. Once the sound issue was resolved he took a seat (just two seats down in front of me) and watched the film with the rest of us. When he returned to the proscenium after the film, he told us that it was not his usual custom to watch the movie over and over, but that his wife had left him there and taken the car, so he thought it would be appropriate to watch so he could once again recognize the elements that Miguel Ferrer brought to the movie. He noted how Bob Morton, Ferrer's character, was both irritating and admirable. He had repulsive characteristics but also personality quirks and an attitude about Robocop, that made everyone love the movie so much more. His performance is a spark plug in the first half of the film. He is not a heroic character, but rather the satirical version of the yuppie climber in the corporate world of the times. Everyone in the theater practically cheered when Morton, looking at Robocop and seen from his perspective, shakes his finger and tells Robo, "You are going to be a bad mother****er."
Weller and Neumeier were also effusive in praise of the director of the movie Paul Verhoven. While the script was done and the concept set, Verhoeven infused the story with the biting satire it is remembered for. The energy and tension of Robocop's first scenes in the police station and laboratory were due to his design of the camera movements and lighting. As a director himself, Weller said he could now relate to the way Verhoeven operated in what they called 7th gear. The whole crew would be amped up and tuned in and working in synchronized speed to get the next shot and keep the process moving. You could hear the passion in Weller's voice on several of the subjects that came up, but he first reached this level of emotion when praising the director who's fortunate and wise hands the project fell into.
Dr. Peter Weller Center, Screenwriter Ed Neumeier on the right
Neumeier was quite gracious in giving credit to the director as well but also pointing out how the actors make the words mean something more than the writer might ever have imagined. He gave Kurtwood Smith, the actor who played villain Clarence Boddicker, credit for the improvised "Guns, Guns, Guns" line that made his negotiation scene so much funnier and intense than it might otherwise have been. He also noted that Weller is the one who came up with the Robocop line to his wounded partner Lewis, "They'll fix you. They fix everything." A line that allowed closure of that part of the story with a sense of hope for the audience, but also a sense of sorry at the costs.
The subject of the awkwardness of acting came up in response to an audience question that I could not quite make out, but it was one of the more eloquent moments of Weller's conversation with us. He described the degree of commitment and courage it takes to really look at a fellow actor at a close distance and connect with them on camera. In his view, you need to be fearlessly real to be able to covey the emotions that a character might be feeling. He completely won me over with the example he chose to illustrate that point. He describe how Errol Flynn and Olivia DeHaviland had to have that sort of intensity in front of a camera merely inches from one another's face in the balcony scene in Robin Hood. Mr. Weller, excuse me, Dr. Weller, you are a man after my own heart. I may have to find a higher place on my mental shelf for every word you said as a result of that illustration. Thank you.
One more point to show how engaged and enthusiastic Weller was last night. An audience member asked him to take a question from a little boy who was at the screening. Weller rightfully pointed out when the boy shared that his age was nine, that he should not have even been allowed in the theater, but he joked it away and took the question. It was the kind of question you might expect a nine year old to ask, "How did it feel to play the coolest robot ever in the movies?" Weller answered by asking his own question of the boy, "After being here tonight and standing up to ask your question, how does it feel to be the coolest kid in your school?"
Both Neumeier and Weller were quick to point to the contributions of everyone on the movie. They had praise for the sound effects team, and for Phil Tippet's stop motion effects. The make up guy who did Weller's face for the movie was praised as was the body motion artist he had worked with for six months to get Robocop's movements down. Even the local video store that provided a copy of Ivan The Terrible for Weller to watch in modifying his movements got some love. An extra treat was provided when Weller pointed back to where he had sat watching the movie and he introduced actress Diane Robin, who played the model who asked Bob Morton just before he was murdered if he was going to call her. She looked great and the audience got the solid feeling that everyone on that set had cared about how the movie came out.
My two daughters are both fans of the film and I managed to wrangle them into the theater last night. In fact they got there well before me and they saved seats for my friend Michael and I. I was so glad to see him there for this wonderful event. I look forward to sharing some time at the TCM festival in April.
I will save an analytical post of the film for another day, but I will add one final note here. When the movie finished, the roar of the crowd was loud, and it reminded me of the first time I saw the film back in 1987. The crowd could have torn the place down with their enthusiasm. Last night, Peter Weller could have done the same thing. A fantastic evening. Thanks one and all.
This is my first opportunity to write about this film for this blog. The Egyptian Theater in Hollywood California has obtained a new 70mm print of of the film and they screened it nine times during the holiday season. We made it to the final screening, and to be honest, I'm kicking myself for missing the eight prior screenings. My daughter went with me and she is apparently not a fan of the film. I saw another blogger recently dismiss 2001 as over hyped and boring. Everyone will of course see a film through their own prism, and that is probably why I am willing to go to bat for a movie that does not need any defense from me at all. "2001: A Space Odyssey" is one of the great achievements of cinema. It is one of the reasons that I can look people who think those of us who dislike a film like "The Tree of Life" are intellectually shallow, and say "Bullshit". This film is more profound, deep and well made than a dozen avant-garde movies that today's audiences might respond to.
I come to this film with a long history. When I was ten years old, a friend of my father, who happened to be one of the projectionists at the Cinerama Dome and Pacific Theater in Hollywood, arranged for our family to attend one of the "road show" presentations of the film. Somewhere [probably the notorious box in the garage] I still have the souvenir program for that exhibition. I remember that my Mother and Father took me, and that my brothers did not go. It was a school night because I had to get up the next day, and I talked about the movie with my friends. [I doubt Arthuro Salazar will remember, but if he does, maybe he can confirm my story]. My parents thought that the movie was strange, and I certainly would not disagree, but I also thought it was wonderful. I was a precocious ten year old, so I probably thought I understood the whole thing, but of course I could not really have done so. I next saw the film at some of the numerous screenings that happened over the years at the Cinerama Dome. Some of you old enough to know may recall that some people liked to get high and then lay on the floor at the foot of the screen during the final twenty minutes of the film. I was not one of those folks but I did see them now and then. The visual impact of the film on the curved giant screen in 70mm was enough to convince me that what I was seeing was important.
I have watched it a dozen times on home video and in theaters since those days and every time I find new things about the movie to appreciate. Since we won't be getting any more Stanley Kubrick films, we have to make due assessing the legacy he left us, and that is a rabbit hole I love going down. At last nights screening, I saw and heard a half dozen things that made me think about the themes of the film or the technique of the film maker. I probably won't get to all of them today, but I hope there will be future opportunities to write about and share my thoughts on this film.
The print last night was struck from a road show version of the film, so it included an overture, an intermission and exit music. The lights are lowered before the start of the film, but not entirely. As the music plays, you are bombarded with a variety of classical and tonal music that seems ethereal to start with. You can tell from the mood being established that this is not going to be your average popcorn munching experience in the dark. The sound design of the film starts before the movie does and then comes that opening, the one that has been parodied and copied ever since it first startled audiences in 1968.
The juxtaposition of the stunning space imagery with the Dawn of Man sequence that the movie starts with is one of the things that seems to befuddle people. The posters and title promise space adventure but the movie begins with a long section devoted to ape like creatures learning to use tools. "2001" plants the idea that human development may have been achieved by extra-terrestrial intervention. While this is not necessarily at odds with Judaeo-Christian beliefs (maybe the monolith is God planting a seed from the tree of wisdom) , it certainly is a novel approach. The idea that creatures who forage for food, ignore the animals around them as a potential source of nourishment, and then huddle in fear of the night, could be given a slight push to start the evolutionary process is original and deep. Kubrick lets us see the small changes in these creatures and then in a cascade of images we discover tool use and everything changes. The final shot of this sequence, when the man-ape flings the bone he has used as a weapon into the air and as it comes down a quick edit turns the falling object into a modern satellite is one of the great edits in film history. Along with Lawrence blowing the match out in "Lawrence of Arabia", Kubrick and Lean create an artistic standard for editing which will define all future films.
One place where a viewer who criticizes this film can at least find some ground is found in the next segment. Dr. Heywood Floyd's trip to the Moon to deal with the discovery of an alien object, becomes a chance to show off some visually. There are three segments where we track a space vehicle as it makes a landing or approach. The space plane has to synchronize with the rotating space station (all to the Classical score that is leisurely and idyllic.] We soon get another great effects moment as the Lunar Lander approaches the surface of the moonbase and a gaping hole with teeth-like doors opening to receive it, provides us another chance to marvel at the four million year jump in time that the transition edit allows. Finally, there is the space bus which transports Floyd and the other scientists to the excavation site, and it is all computer screens and sound effects to show off the technological innovation of mankind but also the director. The pace of each of these episodes is slow and deliberate. The fact that they are nearly back to back might make the film seem repetitive. In addition, the segments between each of these landings is separated with interactions in which the characters engage in banalities with only the slightest amount of exposition. Kubrick's characters are really drawn in a cold manner. I don't mean that they are heartless but that their personalities display almost no personality or human warmth. Even the phone call Floyd has with his young daughter feels perfunctory. While conceding that these moments are longer than most people are used to today, it can also be said that all films prior to the 1980s were slower at coming to the point. Sometimes the brushstrokes rather than the images are what distinguish "art" from a mere representation. I would say that these are some indulgences that an artist like Kubrick is entitled to make and that in the scheme of things, they make the picture work better in other parts of the story.
The sound emitted by the monolith both for early man and for Dr. Floyd's group, is mercilessly loud and penetrating. The audience will experience the same things the actors do. Again, this is a deliberate choice that the director is responsible for, and it works. Maybe it is a little annoying, but it makes the sections with long periods of silence even more effective.
Once we are on Discovery One, the silence takes over again. There will be moments punctuated with sounds and with music, but frequently, the mundane tasks of the three active crew members are surrounded with no sound at all. There is a reason that Ridley Scott's "Alien" was promoted with the phrase "In space, no one can hear you scream." The vacuum of space overpowers the technology of man. As awesome as the difference 4 million years in time can make in human technology, it is suddenly dwarfed by the enormity of space and the thundering silence that is returned as we shout out in defiance of those barriers to human exploration. The astronauts labored breathing as the do an EVA to replace a part of the communication system is loud and ever present, until suddenly it isn't. We can see poor Frank's body tumbling silently through space, and there is no warning or outcry. Only when HAL decides to erase the other human crew do we get a return to sound levels that are loud and powerful. The warnings that go off as the astronauts in hibernation die with no visible violence, are all mechanical. When Dave chooses to enter through the airlock, the exploding bolts and the violent ejection of astronaut from the pod are shown silently, until an atmosphere can be restored.
What should be the most obvious sound element and yet it could be easily overlooked, is the voice of HAL 9000. Douglas Rain deserves special mention because his is the dominant role in the last half of the movie. Hall is just personable enough to be easy to interact with, but the voice is so measured and unflappable, that no one would confuse him with a human, except by comparison to the two cold Kubrickian astronauts Dave Bowman and Frank Poole. Hal fits into their band of awake travelers just right. It is not until Dave becomes desperate enough to re-enter the vehicle in the dramatic fashion that was open to him, that either of these characters displays much emotion. The volume and distortion of HAL's voice is one of those sound elements that make this movie work so well. There was one visual element that I thought added a bit to the drama of Dave's act of desperation. As he has the pod release the body of Frank, the arms of the pod pull back up into a crooked position and they resemble the arms of a boxer, surging forward to confront their opponent in the center of the ring. Stanley Kubrick was a perfectionist, and I have no doubt that the image was purposeful.
Maybe the most controversial part of the film is the trip through time and space as Dave takes his pod and enters the giant monolith orbiting Jupiter. The light show and special effects might seem quaint to audiences used to CGI intense scenes in all kinds of films. It may have been a little indulgent, but it is not nearly as long as some people complain it is, and if you watch the images closely, you will see foreshadowing of events related to the birth of a new human entity. Those hippies who wanted to use this segment to supplement their high, give critics of the film an entree into pointing out the excesses of these moments. Focusing on the visual instead of the metaphysical elements at this point is exactly the opposite of what one should be doing.
Even though he made one of the greatest comedies of all time, "Dr. Strangelove", Kubrick is rarely thought of as a humorist. Although this film is serious and there are dry stretches with no warm characters to relate to, Kubrick manages to find the funny in a few spots. One obvious example is Dr, Floyd having to read the ten part directions for using a zero gravity toilet.
If you are not familiar, here it is for you:
In another moment of humor, that exists in tragic circumstances, HAL pleads with Dave to respond to him and to allow him to go on with the mission.
"Look Dave, I can see you're really upset about this. I honestly think
you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill, and think things over."
I mentioned earlier that last night's screening was a road show version that includes an intermission. The break here occurs at the most chilling moment in the film for the audience. Frank and Dave have taken precautions to avoid being overheard by HAL as they consider what to do if they discover HAL is malfunctioning. The final shot before the lights come on is a silent shifting of the camera from Frank's lips moving to Dave's lips movie as we look through the pod window and we realize that HAL can understand everything that is being said. The lights come up and there is a ten minute interval for us to ponder what might be coming.
The break at the screening was certainly longer than 10 minutes, and it needed to be. Unlike most public events, the line at the men's room was the one that snaked down the lobby, while the women's facilities had no visible line at all. This may be a reflection of the slightly male heavy geek culture intruding into the practicality of plumbing. The Egyptian hold more than six hundred people and it was essentially packed last night. We sat in the back right corner of the balcony for this show. The size of the screen and the 70mm projection meant that just about every seat in the house would be acceptable.
Our view of the Ceiling at the Egyptian last night.
Amanda and I discussed the film for the entire ride back to our home, about forty miles from Hollywood. She admires the film but said that she does not need to see it again for another 10 years. She is as passionate about films as I am, and as an example, we see Lawrence of Arabia, just about any time we can find it on the big screen. Her lack of enthusiasm for this movie is understandable but a bit disappointing to me. I still feel in awe of this movie, every time I see it. I don't feel the passage of the long sequences as a burden to be borne but an experience to be savored. We talked about why our feelings are different and she had a nice way of putting it. "It feels like an experimental film with sections of more narrative form put into it, instead of a narrative feature with segments that are experimental edited in". So it is a matter of what you need a film to be.
This movie is not really about character and although there is a plot, it is very abstract in nature. The "sequel" "2010: The Year We Make Contact" is a much more traditional story. It is not ground breaking and certainly not as cerebral as this film is, but it is definitely more accessible. This may be a topic we tackle when we finally get around to starting the podcast we have been promising to launch.
These are not all my thoughts on this film, but they will serve as a staring point for now. If you have not seen "2001" on the big screen, do yourself a solid and find an opportunity to do so. If the theater sound is set up correctly, and you get a 70mm print, you will find it to be a very different experience, and one that you can talk about for a long time with your friends. My kid may be happy to wait ten years to see this again, but I'd be willing to go again tonight if I had the opportunity.
Don't let the title fool you, it is not just an obligation it is a pleasure to see and write about the greatest adventure movie of the second half of the last century [and so far, the first Sixteen years of the current one.]
No film has been covered as in depth on this blog site as the original Steven Spielberg classic. If you go back a year to the 40th anniversary, you will see that I saw the movie on the big screen four times in 10 days and did a different post on each one of those visits. You will also be able to find an extensive collection of posts at the following: Jaws Week.
It is late however, and I have some obligations in the next few hours so I will keep this years comments short.
First, I think this may be the first time I saw the movie at the Egyptian Theater, a spot that has become my go to cinema for classic films, including several events each year at the TCM Classic Movie Film Festival. The popcorn is good, the butter flavor rich and they have Coke Zero. Oh yeah, they also have the coolest old school design on the Boulevard.
In introducing the program and telling everyone the rules of conduct, our host tonight asked how many people were seeing the movie for the first time. I was flabbergasted to see nearly a third of the packed house raise their hands. While it surprised this veteran of at least a hundred trips to Amity over the years, it also created a great expectation on my part. I had to ask myself if the film would still work on a fresh audience that is jaded by the speed and CGI of today's films. I can safely report that when Ben Gardner makes his final appearance in the movie, the screams were loud and people again levitated out of their seats.
When the shark first shows up in profile, there is another jump, and everyone still nervously laughs at Roy Scheider's ad-libbed classic line. There are two more great scares, a dozen moments of levity that all break the tension in glorious ways and you can tell they were all working tonight. Finally, there was a loud outburst of cheers and applause when the hero solves the problem of the shark in a most satisfying conclusion.
As always, I picked up a couple more tidbits of information during the screening. In the hundred times I've seen the movie, this was the first time I noticed the timeline continuity error in the police report for Chrissy's death and the date of the attack on Alex Kitner. Why I had not worried about it before is beyond me, but I think I'd go crazy if I worried about all those kinds of things. A movie is made up of a million moving parts and sometimes the cog in one section is out of synch with the gears in another section.
Something that bothers me a little more because it seems like it should be obvious. At dinner, when Quint is telling the story of the Indianapolis, I suddenly realize that he and Hooper have finished their meals and that Brody hasn't even touched his food. It may be the framing on the big screen that makes this more noticeable, or maybe because Shaw is so compelling when he does the monologue, you don't really take tour eyes off him much. So the Chief has a queasy stomach on the ocean with the more experienced sailors. That's one more small detail that is so brilliant in making these characters real and representative of their types in the story.
I also think that different prints or sound systems may emphasize some parts of the music or the dialogue a bit more from one screening location to another. After forty years, it's great to say the movie still succeeds and there are still small moments to discover.
This film is a masterpiece that did not get the accolades it deserved on initial release due to studio tampering and cuts. When restored to it's full glory several years ago, it developed a degree of respect far beyond that accorded the earlier spaghetti westerns of Sergio Leone. If anyone has said something to you in the last fifteen years about how great this film is they were right and you should have listened to them.I have seen this movie two or three times in the last couple of years but this was the first opportunity I've had to see it on the big screen. The American Cinematique was showing this at the Egyptian Theater on Friday night so I made the thirty-five mile trek down there to catch it. There was a problem with the ticketing process and we had to be issued blank tickets. It took extra time and while I waited in line I had a nice conversation with the gentleman behind me. He was also seeing it for the umpteenth time but had actually gone when it first hit theaters and did not like it. As his perspective changed over the years, forced in part by friends who wanted him to enjoy the film as much as they did, he had become one of the films big admirers and he told me that my review today should be glowing, so it is.
There are so many things to talk about on this movie that I'm afraid I will have to be arbitrary to hold it to a reasonable length. I want to start with the opening of the film, which deserves a blog post of it's own. The first fifteen minutes of the movie are so incredibly well put together, it is difficult to imagine that it could be any better. Only one character speaks in the opening and he has just a couple of lines that are ignored by the main actors. Three ominous men, heavily armed and with no pretense of friendliness, show up at a train station to await the arrival of a man they have been sent to kill. They lock up the station agent, the Indian woman at the platform runs off, and it is just the three men in a stark setting, positioning themselves and waiting for the train. Normally there would be a score or theme playing to create additional tension, instead, the sounds of the station are turned into a symphony of creaks, squeaks, and buzzing flies. One man cracks his knuckles as if loosening up his fingers for the gunplay to come, one takes a seat outside the station and begins to amuse himself by capturing an annoying fly in the barrel of his gun. The third man stands in the shade under the water tower and doesn't move from the spot even when a drip of water begins to fill the brim of his hat with a steady drop by drop pounding. The sound design in this scene is marvelous. The windmill turns continuously and it squeaks out a tune that is as threatening as any music would have been. The first drop of water on the hat sounds like a bullet hitting nearby. The surrounding silence builds until we finally hear the screeching train whistle, still a couple of miles away. All three of the actors perform without words until that train arrives. Sergio Leone notoriously uses close ups to add character to the players and the intensity of the three pairs of eyes, the grime on their faces and the lack of anything resembling a human emotion tells us that these are three very bad men.
Since the scene involves waiting for a fourth man, who turns out to be Charles Bronson one of the listed stars of the film, it is not really a spoiler to say that the scene turns out in a way very different than has been set up. If the opening scene of the movie deserves it's own blog post, then a book should be written about the face of Charles Bronson. His skin is taut and bronzed. His cheeks and eyes resemble a punching bag from a gym frequented by expert heavyweights. His green eyes spit death and seem as dangerous a warning as the shake of a rattlesnakes tail. When Clint Eastwood crosses paths with violent men in his Leone films, there was a sense of resignation about the inevitability of those men's deaths. The verbal byplay that would ensue, still left a hope that someone would survive. No such hope exists when Bronson stares down his would be killers. His comment that they brought two more horses than necessary would have provoked a laugh coming from Clint, here it encourages a shudder. Death has spoken and he has no sense of humor, despite the joke. For two more hours of the picture, we are going to see that face and most of the men who encounter it during the course of the story are not going to live through the experience.
So much of the movie is made up of close ups that you might become a little claustrophobic. In truth though there are spectacular vistas, mixing scenes shot in Spain with locations in Arizona and Utah. There is a great revealing shot as the female lead, chooses to leave the train station and find a carriage to take her to her new husbands ranch. As the camera comes up over the roof of the station, a wide street filled with activity and the dusty background of the desert is shown with a wonderful musical theme that brings out the majesty in the moment. Earlier we were treated to the slaughter of a family in the wide open territory surrounding their house, with a long shot of the predators closing in at the end like a pack of wolves. Several moments in the film will feature a train, crawling across the vast space of the desert vistas and making the human figures appear microscopic at times. The composition of most of these shots is planned and choreographed to give exactly the impression that Leone wants to create at each key moment.
If you watch the movie for a first time, there may be some moments that are a little confusing. There are two gangs of thugs in the story. One lead by the psychopathic Frank, and the other by laconic criminal Cheyenne. As Frank's men are trying to pass themselves off as Cheyenne's gang, in order to deflect blame for the atrocities that they are engaging in, they sometimes wear the same long dusters that are the trademark of the band of criminals that ride with Cheyenne. Since the faces are often indistinct under beards, grime and large hats, it is easy to get lost as you try to figure out which group of crooks you are watching at any moment. When Frank's men turn on him at one point, it is also a little confusing, especially when Bronson's character, known as "Harmonica", seems to be saving Frank and shooting at men that a few minutes before might have been his allies. I can imagine how difficult it might have been for audiences watching a truncated version of the film, to keep track of what is happening on screen.
In a stroke of casting genius, Leone places genial, well loved Henry Fonda in the part of Frank, as the vilest killer in westerns. He shoots down an eight year old boy in cold blood. He suggests that it is because one of his crew used his name and the boy heard, but everything about frank and Fonda's performance suggests that this is merely a pretext used to justify the act to his men Looking at him in different spots throughout the movie, there is no doubt that Frank enjoys the infliction of cruelty on others. Just as Bronson will be seen in a hundred close ups, so will Fonda, his piercing blue eyes displaying a coldness to them that had never before been a part of any performance he had given on screen. When he casually talks about the future death of the woman he has kidnapped, as he is sexually engaged with her, we know that there is no soft spot anywhere in his bones. As the unfortunate Mrs. McBain tries to reach him through sex, he mocks her as a tramp, willing to debase herself in any way to survive. Of course he has given her no choice and is is only the desire to acquire her land that keeps him from murdering her once he has violated her.
One other sweaty face that we see in close up dozens of times in the movie is that of Cheyenne, the criminal played by Jason Robards. His character turns out to have the most humanity, which says something since he is a notorious criminal and murderer himself. He is the most grizzly of the three lead actors, and his motivations are far from clear. We know that Harmonica is on some kind of vengeance seeking plan against Frank, but we do not learn why until the end of the picture. We never really know why Cheyenne takes the side of the widow McBain or allies himself with the clearly dangerous Harmonica, except that it seems to amuse him to do so. Robards has whatever comic relief there might be in the picture, but it is never presented as a comedy. His lines and the gunshot through the boot might provoke a laugh, but the character is never a clown and he is as dangerous as either of the other men. None of the three characters are played as if they are stupid, but Cheyenne is the one who seems to most recognize his own limitations. It is strange to think of this character as the conscience of the story but that is exactly what he is.
The shootouts and action scenes in the film are great. Leone makes us wait in agonizing anticipation in some spots for the payoff that we know is coming, but that makes the payoff all the better when it arrives. I meant to keep this short and if I stop before I get involved with the complexities of the plot maybe I can do so. There are many moments of beauty and several amusing lines, but all of it is leading up to the moment when Frank and Harmonica meet for the final showdown. As Cheyenne puts it:"
He's whittling on a piece of wood. I got a feeling that when he stops whittling, something's gonna happen." This film is the main inspiration of another of my favorites, the homage "The Quick and the Dead". When you get to the reveal of the vengeance motive, you will enjoy the Sharon Stone movie much more. I can't imagine that anyone would be able to enjoy this movie more. It is the ultimate achievement of director Sergio Leone, and it is just about as great a Western as you are likely to see.
