Film has changed this decade. In fact, film has changed as an industry and an art form more in the last ten years than any decade prior. If the 1930s saw the 'talkies' take over, if the 1940s saw colour photography begin to take over, if the 1960s experimented with size and scale, if the 1970s removed clear cut heroes and villains in favour of morally ambiguous stories, if the 1980s paved the way for blockbusters and special effects, if the 1990s saw the emergence of mainstream independent films and CGI, and if the 2000s continued to experiment with technology during the birth of franchise dominating blockbusters, then the 2010s is all about progression.
To think that in 2010 DVDs were still doing well, streaming or online renting was not a popular thing, Blockbuster was going strong and everyone was crazy for 3D movies. Cut to 2019: it is immensely hard to find laptops with DVD slots (or DVD players for that matter), Netflix and Amazon Prime are the leading platforms for online streaming, the Oscars no longer have a host and representation is oh so important at the moment.
Politically, Hollywood has swung into the left-wing; with a focus on balancing pay, having a proportional set of Academy members and for its huge promotion of films like Black Panther, Get Out and Wonder Woman / Captain Marvel. Regardless of opinions of it, the shift has been seismic.
And when it comes to the big blockbusters, anyone who has access to a keyboard and a social media platform can become a vocal critic, waging war on those that liked or didn't like a film. Small minorities have allowed opinions to become facts, and even smaller minorities have besmirched the authenticity of their fandoms (Star Wars?), associating their groups with the sort of playground bullying that should be left in school.
On a more positive side of the change, technology has continued to impress, though it has been misused or overused. Motion-capture has become immaculate thanks to films like Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, whilst de-ageing or recreating departed characters / actors is also a hot trend, such as in Captain Marvel and Rogue One respectively. Another trend gone wrong is the 'Avengers Effect'. After making $1.5 billion in 2012, Avengers Assemble announced to the other studios that shared movie universes can be immensely profitable. Warner Bros. tried playing catch up with the DC universe, which started promisingly and then derailed due to trying to set up far too much. There was also the failed Dark Universe franchise, that began with The Mummy and ended with The Mummy. The only promising one is Legendary's Monsters Universe, with two Godzilla films and a King Kong film under their belt and a wave of possibilities for future installments. The other hot trend that fizzled out was nostalgia porn: reminding audiences of what they loved as a kid and trying to replicate or honour that love. Jurassic World got there first, then The Force Awakens made $2 billion out of it and then the flood gates opened: everything suddenly needed its own film and small things needed explanations in the form of a TV show etc etc. Disney's all conquering success as allowed them to remake beloved animated classics into live action stories, which retain the strength of the stories but lose the charm. Franchise revival has been done correctly: Creed, Blade Runner 2049 and Mad Max: Fury Road all told new stories whilst honouring those that came before it expertly. These are the kind of sequels the world needs, yet we do not get.
Genre has a concept has had a brilliant decade. Previously, genre films (horror, action, superhero, fantasy) enjoy high box office receipts and can also garner critical praise, but they very rarely enjoy the same success come awards season as the more 'prestige' films: dramas, biopics, historicals... This has changed dramatically in the last few years. Jordan Peele's Get Out received a Best Picture nomination and secured an Original Screenplay win; Logan got a screenplay nomination, romantic fantasy The Shape of Water took home a Best Picture and Director Oscar, and Mad Max: Fury Road hoovered up six awards whilst being nominated for Director and Picture gongs. The changing of Academy voters has allowed younger generations in who have rightfully platformed these genre films not just as 'one of the best [action] films' but also as 'one of the best films, period.' It took a long time, but these larger than life films are finally getting the attention they deserve, a trend that will only improve as we enter the 2020s.
I have made a list of my favourite films of the decade; having chosen 25 as a reasonable number to showcase. Whilst a Top 10 would be symmetrical, it would encourage choosing one film per year, which would mean a bunch of better films would go without mention, especially when 2014 and 2017 yielded far greater films than 2011 and 2013 for instance. And whilst 25 might promote selecting a couple of the best from each year, it still didn't feel like all my favourites were being represented. Another issue is that I have seen but a fraction of the hundreds and hundreds of films that came out since 2010 (I was 10 then to be fair) so my list is barely reflective of all areas of cinema, hence why I am saying my favourite films, and not an objective 'great' list of the best films.
So here is my incredibly opinionated list:
25. Annihilation (2018)
24. Isle of Dogs (2018)
23. The Hateful Eight (2016)
22. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
21. Bone Tomahawk (2015)
20. First Man (2018)
19. Arrival (2016)
18. John Wick: Parabellum (2019)
17. Coco (2018)
16. Once Upon a Time in... Hollywood (2019)
15. Inside Out (2015)
14. Dunkirk (2017)
13. Whiplash (2014)
12. The Nice Guys (2016)
11. Toy Story 3 (2010)
10. Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016)
9. Joker (2019)
8. Mission: Impossible - Fallout (2018)
7. War for the Planet of the Apes (2017)
6. The Revenant (2016)
5. Inception (2010)
4. La La Land (2017)
3. Interstellar (2014)
2. Blade Runner 2049 (2017)
1. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)
What can we learn from this list? Well I am obviously very fond of strongly executed, mid to high budget productions that fuse the artistic with the entertainment. I was surprised that threepicks were westerns, with another film heavily featuring westerns (OUATI...H) and another that burrows heavily from the genre (WFTPOTA). It also might be surprising that a superhero film does not make the cut; Logan and The Dark Knight Rises came close. Of all the big blockbusters on that list
(a budget exceeding $100 million), the majority are originals, with only six coming from existing properties. Other takeaways are that I love Chris Nolan (3 films), Leo DiCaprio (3 films), Tom Hardy (4 films), Ryan Gosling (4 films) and Hans Zimmer (4 films). Science fiction accommodates seven choices and there are four animated choices. It is not the most diverse list. But then again, neither is the film industry.
Wednesday 30 October 2019
Tuesday 15 October 2019
JOKER (and film derivation)
Few films have stirred up the media and tapped into the zeitgeist as extremely as Todd Phillip's 2019 comic book film Joker. The box office performance, which has so far shown impressive legs with its very small percentage drops, is evidence that people are seeing this film just to be part of the conversation surrounding the violence and messages the film presents. One nagging question I have had is whether Joker is the result of a progression on from other superhero films, or whether it is a direct reaction to the current climate of interchangeable, big budget spectacles.
There have been a couple of notable blockbusters in recent years that have taken much inspiration from older classic films: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, with its casting of Robert Redford and a tense elevator scene, pays homage and takes inspiration from 1970s political thrillers like Three Days of the Condor (1975); 2017's Logan burrows heavily from 1953's Shane (a scene from the film is shown, and later quoted) and 1992's elegiac masterpiece Unforgiven; 2017's War for the Planet of the Apes takes heavy inspiration from a batch of classics: its story has elements of Apocalypse Now (1979), The Great Escape (1963, and both of which are punned in some on-screen graffiti), The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976) and The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957). These films in particular wore these inspirations on their sleeves whilst also telling a story that was its own thing.
Joker follows suit, riffing on two Martin Scorsese pictures (he was originally on-board as a producer): Taxi Driver and The King of Comedy. Robert De Niro stars in both, as an unhinged man driven to potentially political violence in one, and as a mentally unsound wannabe comedian who idolises an American talk show host in the second. Joker is the birth child of these two films, with Joaquin Phoenix's Arthur Fleck (aka the Joker) being the unhinged 'stand-up comic' whose dark path inevitably leads to violence, and De Niro is actually cast as the talk show host, paying homage to his The King of Comedy performance.
Phoenix makes for a magnetic Joker. Uncomfortable is the correct feeling in viewing many of his scenes, his sporadic laughter and chesty nicotine induced cough afterwards make for an interesting take on the iconic villain, whilst his eyes and smiles are terrifying. One scene early on sees the camera slowly zoom in on his face, the complexion changing bit by bit into an unsettling smile. It is more terrifying than anything Pennywise got up to recently. Yes, he is worthy of an Oscar nomination, and hopefully the selected scene that goes with the nomination is his first stand up performance, trying to desperately to suppress his laughter and tell the first joke. It is a riveting piece of acting.There are numerous other zoom ins which do an excellent job of isolating Fleck from everything else.
In fact, by and large the cinematography is fantastic. The use of lighting is wonderful, particularly on a subway train where the flickering lights allow antagonists to move seen and unseen, and also in the film's third act which inevitably sees the titular character on the talk show he once fantasised about being on.
There grim reality of the film, with its mucky exteriors juxtaposed to the extravaganza of the elites watching Modern Times in a deluxe cinema, makes everything hit so much harder. Previous incarnations of the Joker have seen the clown wipe out dozens, sometimes hundreds of people in one go. Violence in this film is sparing, but when it comes it is horrifying. There is something far more threatening with killing one person in a room with a pistol than with killing a hundred with gas. Because the violence Joker presents is unflinchingly real, never straying into the colourful possibilities of comic book action and staying firmly in modern America. It is violence that could happen and has happened.
It has been refreshing to see Al Pacino have a small role in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, and it is refreshing to see Robert De Niro also have fun in a solid if small role in Joker (before both actors make their proper returns next month in The Irishman). The supporting cast is pretty solid throughout, and the musical score is utterly murky, brooding with sinister energy. It is most effective.
Then there is the film's message. Joker is a troubling film; at times it feels like a call to arms against the wealthy politically elite. The newspaper headlines and riots feel all too real that the downtrodden and poor could very easily rise up. Whilst not setting out to be, this is the Taxi Driver of this generation, a film with the ability to brainwash those vulnerable to the film's ideas. I did feel concerned watching some scenes, but overall my take is that rather then calling for political and social justice by force, it is invoking a theory I believe that is called 'noblesse oblige' - it means that the wealthy and powerful in society have a duty to look after and help the poor and disenfranchised. The events of this film show two things: society does not cater or understand mental illness as well as it should, and because of this rejection it stirs up the darker side of the downtrodden, ensuring the hate the system that should be aiding them.
It does derive an awful lot from The King of Comedy, especially with the black girlfriend that may or may not be real, the living at home with his mum set up and the idolisation of a celebrity. Luckily it isn't a scene for scene retelling, and it has enough of its own energy and stance to be its own force to be reckoned with. And hey, if this movie encourages people to watch those two Scorsese films, then that's great.
An unsettling, powerfully made and visceral piece of cinema that promises a new wave of character study superhero films.
There have been a couple of notable blockbusters in recent years that have taken much inspiration from older classic films: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, with its casting of Robert Redford and a tense elevator scene, pays homage and takes inspiration from 1970s political thrillers like Three Days of the Condor (1975); 2017's Logan burrows heavily from 1953's Shane (a scene from the film is shown, and later quoted) and 1992's elegiac masterpiece Unforgiven; 2017's War for the Planet of the Apes takes heavy inspiration from a batch of classics: its story has elements of Apocalypse Now (1979), The Great Escape (1963, and both of which are punned in some on-screen graffiti), The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976) and The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957). These films in particular wore these inspirations on their sleeves whilst also telling a story that was its own thing.
Joker follows suit, riffing on two Martin Scorsese pictures (he was originally on-board as a producer): Taxi Driver and The King of Comedy. Robert De Niro stars in both, as an unhinged man driven to potentially political violence in one, and as a mentally unsound wannabe comedian who idolises an American talk show host in the second. Joker is the birth child of these two films, with Joaquin Phoenix's Arthur Fleck (aka the Joker) being the unhinged 'stand-up comic' whose dark path inevitably leads to violence, and De Niro is actually cast as the talk show host, paying homage to his The King of Comedy performance.
Phoenix makes for a magnetic Joker. Uncomfortable is the correct feeling in viewing many of his scenes, his sporadic laughter and chesty nicotine induced cough afterwards make for an interesting take on the iconic villain, whilst his eyes and smiles are terrifying. One scene early on sees the camera slowly zoom in on his face, the complexion changing bit by bit into an unsettling smile. It is more terrifying than anything Pennywise got up to recently. Yes, he is worthy of an Oscar nomination, and hopefully the selected scene that goes with the nomination is his first stand up performance, trying to desperately to suppress his laughter and tell the first joke. It is a riveting piece of acting.There are numerous other zoom ins which do an excellent job of isolating Fleck from everything else.
In fact, by and large the cinematography is fantastic. The use of lighting is wonderful, particularly on a subway train where the flickering lights allow antagonists to move seen and unseen, and also in the film's third act which inevitably sees the titular character on the talk show he once fantasised about being on.
There grim reality of the film, with its mucky exteriors juxtaposed to the extravaganza of the elites watching Modern Times in a deluxe cinema, makes everything hit so much harder. Previous incarnations of the Joker have seen the clown wipe out dozens, sometimes hundreds of people in one go. Violence in this film is sparing, but when it comes it is horrifying. There is something far more threatening with killing one person in a room with a pistol than with killing a hundred with gas. Because the violence Joker presents is unflinchingly real, never straying into the colourful possibilities of comic book action and staying firmly in modern America. It is violence that could happen and has happened.
It has been refreshing to see Al Pacino have a small role in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, and it is refreshing to see Robert De Niro also have fun in a solid if small role in Joker (before both actors make their proper returns next month in The Irishman). The supporting cast is pretty solid throughout, and the musical score is utterly murky, brooding with sinister energy. It is most effective.
Then there is the film's message. Joker is a troubling film; at times it feels like a call to arms against the wealthy politically elite. The newspaper headlines and riots feel all too real that the downtrodden and poor could very easily rise up. Whilst not setting out to be, this is the Taxi Driver of this generation, a film with the ability to brainwash those vulnerable to the film's ideas. I did feel concerned watching some scenes, but overall my take is that rather then calling for political and social justice by force, it is invoking a theory I believe that is called 'noblesse oblige' - it means that the wealthy and powerful in society have a duty to look after and help the poor and disenfranchised. The events of this film show two things: society does not cater or understand mental illness as well as it should, and because of this rejection it stirs up the darker side of the downtrodden, ensuring the hate the system that should be aiding them.
It does derive an awful lot from The King of Comedy, especially with the black girlfriend that may or may not be real, the living at home with his mum set up and the idolisation of a celebrity. Luckily it isn't a scene for scene retelling, and it has enough of its own energy and stance to be its own force to be reckoned with. And hey, if this movie encourages people to watch those two Scorsese films, then that's great.
An unsettling, powerfully made and visceral piece of cinema that promises a new wave of character study superhero films.
Thursday 10 October 2019
Movie Trilogies (a breakdown of the best, and how they operate)
A trilogy is a set of three films. Easy. But in choosing some of the strongest cinema has to offer, it is clear that they can operate on different levels. I wrote down all the movie trilogies I could think of and then whittled it down to ten.
The general criteria is finding a film franchise that consists of three features that follow on from the other. This threw up a few notes: some consider the Indiana Jones films (1981-1989) its own trilogy, with Kingdom of the Crystal Skull sufficiently set apart narratively and stylistically as to not be included. It is a worthy argument, and I would have been tempted to include those three adventure films, except for that little bit of trivia that the second installment, Temple of Doom, is actually a prequel and set before the first film. This therefore excludes the saga from being listed.
This next point might be even harder to swallow. The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit films have also been excluded. This is due to both productions being written and filmed at the same time; they operate better as one large film then as three 'separate but connected' stories. With these movies, the ending is in clear sight as soon as the first film starts production, making them unusual entries in a trilogy list. With the other titles I have selected, the end goal is never set up in the first film, and it will become apparent that most of the first installments in each trilogy also operate perfectly as stand-alones. If I did include the Middle-earth films, then LOTR would be my top pick, and, seeing as I am actually very fond of The Hobbit, that would also be high up.
Finally, the ten films are split into eight and two, owing to a different style of trilogy. the eight represent narrative continuations whilst the two are more stylistically connected. This is also not a ranking of 'Top 10 Movie Trilogies of All Time', rather than a list of note worthy franchises that are great examples of telling stories inside one larger story.
The Back to the Future Trilogy (1985, 1989, 1990)
The Back to the Future films are broken down into parts, with parts 2-3 being notable for being back-to-back productions made a couple years after the first dazzling one. Back to the Future (1985) is a true 80s classic, embodying the energy and wit of the decade and being as close to perfect a blockbuster as possible. Michael J Fox and Christopher Lloyd are Marty McFly and Doc Emmet Brown respectively, whizzing around in the iconic DeLorean time machine. What makes the trilogy great is its interwoven stories that means events from the first film become the background and a threat in the second film for instance. It is the kind of smooth and smart storytelling you could not have in a stand alone. If the first film takes us back to 1955, then the second one takes us the future in 2015, before taking us to an alternate 1985, leaving the third film to go back to a different era entirely: 1885, and the Old West. This allows each film its own freshness and unique style, before bringing everything together in a neat bow.
The Before... Trilogy (1995, 2004, 2013)
By far the lowest budgeted pick on the list, Richard Linklater's indie trilogy consists of Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and Before Midnight, with the films very casually telling the story of Ethan Hawke's American Jesse Wallace and Julie Delpy's French Celine, who meet for an evening and fall in love, agreeing to meet six months later. The film's take place nine years after the last, as do the release dates. Very thin on plot, each film is essentially a collection of tracking shots of the two characters discussing the world, philosophy, politics, family and everything in between. Before Sunrise could have been a stand alone, leaving the viewer to decide what happens next, and Before Sunset equally could have left things there with a little more ambiguity. Before Midnight is a little more indulgent, showing us what we want to see and raising difficult questions. It is not necessarily a satisfying closure, but the evolution of the story (first night in Vienna, second time in the day in Paris, third time on holiday in Greece) and the 'fill in the gaps' conversations the characters have to catch up on what the other has been doing allows a very wholesome relationship to blossom on screen.
The Dark Knight Trilogy (2005, 2008, 2012)
The films that introduced director Christopher Nolan as Hollywood's premier style and substance and scale director, this trilogy is notable for its gritty, realistic feel for a superhero film, done so in such a way as to pretty much transcend the superhero genre. Christian Bale is Bruce Wayne / Batman and Michael Caine is Alfred, with a Hans Zimmer score, fantastic practical effects and narratives with real weight all amalgamating into some of the most beloved films of the 21st century. There is a crowd who felt dissatisfied with the finale, The Dark Knight Rises, but I am someone who doesn't look at that film in comparison to the almighty The Dark Knight, instead viewing it as a continuation of the story. Nolan and co. were originally going to leave it at The Dark Knight, but soon they worked out a satisfying way to the end the story. And thank god they did, because it would be bleak to end the series on Batman having to flee into social exile. Each film works because they bring a different theme of idea to the overall story: Batman Begins is a psychological thriller that gives Batman a mental test to overcome, with a focus on fear; The Dark Knight is an action crime film in the vein of Heat, with Batman being given a moral test as the Joker introduces chaos and choice to Gotham; and with The Dark Knight Rises Nolan opts for full blown historical epic and gives Batman a physical challenge in a story that focuses on revolution and legacy. With Rises we get a truly great send off as Batman is transformed from a man into an idea, a symbol for others to aspire towards. The variety in genre and theme across the films provides a very watchable and dense trilogy.
How to Train Your Dragon Trilogy (2010, 2014, 2019)
As a lover of the book series growing up, I can firmly say that these films are perfect examples of film having one over the books. These three films chronicle the story of Hiccup, a scrawny son of a Viking chief who, rather than hunt them, befriends a dragon called Toothless. In one of cinema's most beautiful friendships, the films follow the evolution of the Viking community with dragons, led by Hiccup and Toothless. The animation gets consistently stronger, and the musical score (particularly for the first film) was sorely snubbed of Oscar nominations. What makes the trilogy work is similar to the Before trilogy with the time jumps between each film. Hiccup goes from a pubescent teen to a man, allowing visual cues for the change between each film and how their home of Berk grows. The first film deals with having to exist and fight dragons, the second deals with living alongside them and the third concerns losing dragons and having to separate them. There are thrilling aerial sequences and some profoundly moving moments, with a warming epilogue for the ages. The Hiccup and Toothless relationship is the focus, but the growth between Hiccup and Astrid is also great long term planning. A fantastically told set of stories.
Kung fu Panda Trilogy (2008, 2011, 2016)
Another DreamWorks trilogy, Kung fu Panda concerns Po the Panda (Jack Black), a fat panda who grows to become a legendary master of kung fu. With an all star cast across all three films, this unlikely trilogy is the ultimate story about not judging and self-belief. The first film works great on its own; Po finishes the film as the Dragon Warrior and everything is full circle, with a few strands that could open doorways to a sequel (his parents / backstory for instance). That we get, with the surprisingly dark Kung fu Panda 2. This sequel deliberately sets up the third film in its ending, or rather sets up one aspect of it (Po's father). Much like The Dark Knight trilogy, each of these animated films offers a different villain based on what Po needs to overcome and grow from: in the fierce Tai Lun we get Po's physical challenge; a child raised with expectations vs a child raised with love, in Shen the peacock we get Po's emotional challenge as he grapples with his troubled past on the way to finding inner peace, and in Kai we get Po's spiritual challenge on his way to mastering chi. All three villains are effective at their role (and Tai Lun is easily the greatest antagonist in an animated film) and the individual themes in each film means by the end, Po is an all round master. Throw in exceptional fight choreography, Master Oogway quotes and awesome music and you have one of the most overlooked series of this generation.
Original Star Wars Trilogy (1977, 1980, 1983)
Inevitably being picked, this groundbreaking, universally worshiped set of movies may not be the perfect trilogy to analyse (there is a drop in quality with Return of the Jedi), but it does so much right. Star Wars would have worked alone: the bad guys introduced are all defeated, Luke is successful with using the Force and they all become heroes. There is set up such as wishing to see Luke become a true Jedi and the Leia romance, but by and large its a satisfying stand alone. Then Empire Strikes Back comes along, inspiring darker sequels forever. The world building is stretched, more characters are introduced and Luke's journey progresses. With its iconic cliffhanger ending, a third film was already on its way. Not of all the franchise was planned from the get to go; Leia as Luke's sister was introduced later on as a way of resolving the love triangle with no hard feelings. There isn't a thematic change between each film like Kung fu Panda or The Dark Knight, but the overall good vs evil or not giving up on those that are lost theme is constant throughout.
Pirates of the Caribbean Trilogy (2003, 2006, 2007)
Hear me out on this one. I did state that the criteria had to be a film series with three entries, and whilst Star Wars has ten films, it is comprised of three trilogies. Pirates of the Caribbean is annoyingly made up of five films, but it should have stopped at three. The first three are too interconnected to not be considered a trilogy and it was filmed the same way as Back to the Future: one break out hit followed a few years later by a big back-to-back production to wrap it up in epic style. I love these films; the first is the go-to adventure film, the second one is so crazy and inventive it works, and the third brings the satisfying closure despite its congested narrative. This is trilogy for a bunch of reasons: Will and Elizabeth meet in the first film, meant to get married in the second and then have the bittersweet conclusion in the third; Jack Sparrow in introduced alone on a small boat, and last we see of him is alone in a small boat with the Black Pearl in Barbossa's hands; we also have the end of the British redcoat trading companies; the closure to Norrington's arc; the restoration of Bill Turner... there are no strings left by the third film. Pirates of the Caribbean is more escapism and entertainment than an impactful series with a message, which means the trilogy is more defined by the narrative then a goal or idea. Regardless, they are clever and inventive films, with some fabulous visual effects and music (you may have noticed Hans Zimmer has been involved with three of these trilogies).
Planet of the Apes Trilogy (2011, 2014, 2017)
As The Dark Knight trilogy was set to conclude, a new, gritty film franchise was beginning, one that would be so convincingly realistic through its tone and effects that its science-fiction narrative would be treated like a genuine story, in the same way Batman was. In Andy Serkis' ape leader Caesar is one of the greatest film characters of the decade, a biblical figure stunningly acted and rendered. The first film, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, works on its own (common theme here eh) by closing on the liberated monkeys as a disease begins to spread. That could have been it, setting up how one ape led a revolution that took out human life. But along came Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, a very dark and poignant epic that upped the action and emotional stakes amidst a post-apocalyptic landscape. With an ending promising war, we got War for the Planet of the Apes, which took a smart approach of depicting a more psychological and inner war for Caesar than perhaps the all out conflict people expected. That isn't to say there is no action; the film is book-ended by two breathtaking battles, but this is more a war film in the vein of Apocalypse Now, The Bridge on the River Kwai and The Great Escape. The trilogy charts Caesar's journey from revolutionary to leader to a biblical hero who saved his people. Its a fusion of Moses and Jesus, and the film does't skimp on some of the images. Its a fascinating evolution, and the third film is an emotional sendoff that wraps the stories together, ending in hope.
As mentioned before, the final two are in their own little group for being a different take on a trilogy. The previous eight have all been connected through character and narrative; they are internally linked trilogies. I like to refer to these two trilogies as external ones; linked by things outside of the worlds they are set in. These are films connected by director, genre or style, and cannot be compared critically to the internal trilogies I have just listed.
The Man With No Name / Dollars Trilogy (1964, 1965, 1966)
These films introduced three vital parts of cinema: Clint Eastwood, director Sergio Leone, and the Spaghetti-western genre. With A Fistful of Dollars, the sub genre was invented; a bleak landscape where men, separated on the frontier from law, religion and women, are reduced to morally bankrupt rogues, bandits and bounty hunters. Here Eastwood's character pits two sides of a town against the other before ridding the area of bad guy Ramone and his gang. In For a Few Dollars More, the Man With No Name teams up with Lee Van Cleef's Colonel Mortimer to hunt a gang and claim the hefty bounty. In the almighty The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, Eastwood is the 'Good', Van Cleef is the 'Bad' and Eli Wallach joins in as Tuco 'the Ugly'. The first film has one main character, the second film two main characters and the third has three, so there is a nice evolution, as well as the progressively longer film length. The films act as demonstrations of style, the extreme close ups juxtaposed to massive wide shots, with rapid fire editing, stillness, casual violence, black comedy and outstanding music all forming the Spaghetti-western genre. The Man With No Name seems to be the connective tissue between the films, thanks to that green poncho, but nothing is carried over to other films. And if anything, he should be the Man With Many Names, as Eastwood goes by Joe, Manko and Blondie across the three films. The duel roles for Van Cleef and Gian Maria Volonte (antagonist in 1-2) also suggest these films do not necessarily inhabit the same world. But stylistically it is a trilogy, you can buy them in a Blu-ray set and Eastwood is the face of it, even if he is barely a character and the stories are in no ways follow ons.
Leone also directed a second 'trilogy', the Once Upon a Time... trilogy, which contains Once Upon a Time in the West, Duck, You Sucker / A Fistful of Dynamite / Once Upon a Time... in the Revolution and Once Upon a Time in America. The relationship between these films is even more minute than the Dollars movies; two are westerns and one is a multi-generational crime film. All that brings together is the director, Ennio Morricone's music and their titles if you are European.
The Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy (2004, 2007, 2013)
Edgar Wright's cult classic set of films, the Cornetto trilogy is similarly disconnected. Here is how they are linked: same director, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost as the two leads, a Cornetto ice cream cameo and being a comedy hybrid with another genre. Shaun of the Dead is a zombie rom-com, Hot Fuzz is a buddy cop action comedy and The World's End is a science-fiction alien invasion comedy. This playfulness with genre is the main focus of the trilogy's style and when viewed as three thirds, it is a fantastic deconstruction of genre and tropes inside those genres. All three movies are brilliant, endlessly quotable with some quality moments. Shaun of the Dead goes from hilarious to tense, Hot Fuzz goes from hilarious to gory to badass, The World's End goes from hilarious to political to quietly moving in its third act. It is a fantastic set of three original movies that riff on well known stories, and it makes for an unusually intriguing trilogy.
The general criteria is finding a film franchise that consists of three features that follow on from the other. This threw up a few notes: some consider the Indiana Jones films (1981-1989) its own trilogy, with Kingdom of the Crystal Skull sufficiently set apart narratively and stylistically as to not be included. It is a worthy argument, and I would have been tempted to include those three adventure films, except for that little bit of trivia that the second installment, Temple of Doom, is actually a prequel and set before the first film. This therefore excludes the saga from being listed.
This next point might be even harder to swallow. The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit films have also been excluded. This is due to both productions being written and filmed at the same time; they operate better as one large film then as three 'separate but connected' stories. With these movies, the ending is in clear sight as soon as the first film starts production, making them unusual entries in a trilogy list. With the other titles I have selected, the end goal is never set up in the first film, and it will become apparent that most of the first installments in each trilogy also operate perfectly as stand-alones. If I did include the Middle-earth films, then LOTR would be my top pick, and, seeing as I am actually very fond of The Hobbit, that would also be high up.
Finally, the ten films are split into eight and two, owing to a different style of trilogy. the eight represent narrative continuations whilst the two are more stylistically connected. This is also not a ranking of 'Top 10 Movie Trilogies of All Time', rather than a list of note worthy franchises that are great examples of telling stories inside one larger story.
The Back to the Future Trilogy (1985, 1989, 1990)
The Back to the Future films are broken down into parts, with parts 2-3 being notable for being back-to-back productions made a couple years after the first dazzling one. Back to the Future (1985) is a true 80s classic, embodying the energy and wit of the decade and being as close to perfect a blockbuster as possible. Michael J Fox and Christopher Lloyd are Marty McFly and Doc Emmet Brown respectively, whizzing around in the iconic DeLorean time machine. What makes the trilogy great is its interwoven stories that means events from the first film become the background and a threat in the second film for instance. It is the kind of smooth and smart storytelling you could not have in a stand alone. If the first film takes us back to 1955, then the second one takes us the future in 2015, before taking us to an alternate 1985, leaving the third film to go back to a different era entirely: 1885, and the Old West. This allows each film its own freshness and unique style, before bringing everything together in a neat bow.
The Before... Trilogy (1995, 2004, 2013)
By far the lowest budgeted pick on the list, Richard Linklater's indie trilogy consists of Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and Before Midnight, with the films very casually telling the story of Ethan Hawke's American Jesse Wallace and Julie Delpy's French Celine, who meet for an evening and fall in love, agreeing to meet six months later. The film's take place nine years after the last, as do the release dates. Very thin on plot, each film is essentially a collection of tracking shots of the two characters discussing the world, philosophy, politics, family and everything in between. Before Sunrise could have been a stand alone, leaving the viewer to decide what happens next, and Before Sunset equally could have left things there with a little more ambiguity. Before Midnight is a little more indulgent, showing us what we want to see and raising difficult questions. It is not necessarily a satisfying closure, but the evolution of the story (first night in Vienna, second time in the day in Paris, third time on holiday in Greece) and the 'fill in the gaps' conversations the characters have to catch up on what the other has been doing allows a very wholesome relationship to blossom on screen.
The Dark Knight Trilogy (2005, 2008, 2012)
The films that introduced director Christopher Nolan as Hollywood's premier style and substance and scale director, this trilogy is notable for its gritty, realistic feel for a superhero film, done so in such a way as to pretty much transcend the superhero genre. Christian Bale is Bruce Wayne / Batman and Michael Caine is Alfred, with a Hans Zimmer score, fantastic practical effects and narratives with real weight all amalgamating into some of the most beloved films of the 21st century. There is a crowd who felt dissatisfied with the finale, The Dark Knight Rises, but I am someone who doesn't look at that film in comparison to the almighty The Dark Knight, instead viewing it as a continuation of the story. Nolan and co. were originally going to leave it at The Dark Knight, but soon they worked out a satisfying way to the end the story. And thank god they did, because it would be bleak to end the series on Batman having to flee into social exile. Each film works because they bring a different theme of idea to the overall story: Batman Begins is a psychological thriller that gives Batman a mental test to overcome, with a focus on fear; The Dark Knight is an action crime film in the vein of Heat, with Batman being given a moral test as the Joker introduces chaos and choice to Gotham; and with The Dark Knight Rises Nolan opts for full blown historical epic and gives Batman a physical challenge in a story that focuses on revolution and legacy. With Rises we get a truly great send off as Batman is transformed from a man into an idea, a symbol for others to aspire towards. The variety in genre and theme across the films provides a very watchable and dense trilogy.
How to Train Your Dragon Trilogy (2010, 2014, 2019)
As a lover of the book series growing up, I can firmly say that these films are perfect examples of film having one over the books. These three films chronicle the story of Hiccup, a scrawny son of a Viking chief who, rather than hunt them, befriends a dragon called Toothless. In one of cinema's most beautiful friendships, the films follow the evolution of the Viking community with dragons, led by Hiccup and Toothless. The animation gets consistently stronger, and the musical score (particularly for the first film) was sorely snubbed of Oscar nominations. What makes the trilogy work is similar to the Before trilogy with the time jumps between each film. Hiccup goes from a pubescent teen to a man, allowing visual cues for the change between each film and how their home of Berk grows. The first film deals with having to exist and fight dragons, the second deals with living alongside them and the third concerns losing dragons and having to separate them. There are thrilling aerial sequences and some profoundly moving moments, with a warming epilogue for the ages. The Hiccup and Toothless relationship is the focus, but the growth between Hiccup and Astrid is also great long term planning. A fantastically told set of stories.
Kung fu Panda Trilogy (2008, 2011, 2016)
Another DreamWorks trilogy, Kung fu Panda concerns Po the Panda (Jack Black), a fat panda who grows to become a legendary master of kung fu. With an all star cast across all three films, this unlikely trilogy is the ultimate story about not judging and self-belief. The first film works great on its own; Po finishes the film as the Dragon Warrior and everything is full circle, with a few strands that could open doorways to a sequel (his parents / backstory for instance). That we get, with the surprisingly dark Kung fu Panda 2. This sequel deliberately sets up the third film in its ending, or rather sets up one aspect of it (Po's father). Much like The Dark Knight trilogy, each of these animated films offers a different villain based on what Po needs to overcome and grow from: in the fierce Tai Lun we get Po's physical challenge; a child raised with expectations vs a child raised with love, in Shen the peacock we get Po's emotional challenge as he grapples with his troubled past on the way to finding inner peace, and in Kai we get Po's spiritual challenge on his way to mastering chi. All three villains are effective at their role (and Tai Lun is easily the greatest antagonist in an animated film) and the individual themes in each film means by the end, Po is an all round master. Throw in exceptional fight choreography, Master Oogway quotes and awesome music and you have one of the most overlooked series of this generation.
Original Star Wars Trilogy (1977, 1980, 1983)
Inevitably being picked, this groundbreaking, universally worshiped set of movies may not be the perfect trilogy to analyse (there is a drop in quality with Return of the Jedi), but it does so much right. Star Wars would have worked alone: the bad guys introduced are all defeated, Luke is successful with using the Force and they all become heroes. There is set up such as wishing to see Luke become a true Jedi and the Leia romance, but by and large its a satisfying stand alone. Then Empire Strikes Back comes along, inspiring darker sequels forever. The world building is stretched, more characters are introduced and Luke's journey progresses. With its iconic cliffhanger ending, a third film was already on its way. Not of all the franchise was planned from the get to go; Leia as Luke's sister was introduced later on as a way of resolving the love triangle with no hard feelings. There isn't a thematic change between each film like Kung fu Panda or The Dark Knight, but the overall good vs evil or not giving up on those that are lost theme is constant throughout.
Pirates of the Caribbean Trilogy (2003, 2006, 2007)
Hear me out on this one. I did state that the criteria had to be a film series with three entries, and whilst Star Wars has ten films, it is comprised of three trilogies. Pirates of the Caribbean is annoyingly made up of five films, but it should have stopped at three. The first three are too interconnected to not be considered a trilogy and it was filmed the same way as Back to the Future: one break out hit followed a few years later by a big back-to-back production to wrap it up in epic style. I love these films; the first is the go-to adventure film, the second one is so crazy and inventive it works, and the third brings the satisfying closure despite its congested narrative. This is trilogy for a bunch of reasons: Will and Elizabeth meet in the first film, meant to get married in the second and then have the bittersweet conclusion in the third; Jack Sparrow in introduced alone on a small boat, and last we see of him is alone in a small boat with the Black Pearl in Barbossa's hands; we also have the end of the British redcoat trading companies; the closure to Norrington's arc; the restoration of Bill Turner... there are no strings left by the third film. Pirates of the Caribbean is more escapism and entertainment than an impactful series with a message, which means the trilogy is more defined by the narrative then a goal or idea. Regardless, they are clever and inventive films, with some fabulous visual effects and music (you may have noticed Hans Zimmer has been involved with three of these trilogies).
Planet of the Apes Trilogy (2011, 2014, 2017)
As The Dark Knight trilogy was set to conclude, a new, gritty film franchise was beginning, one that would be so convincingly realistic through its tone and effects that its science-fiction narrative would be treated like a genuine story, in the same way Batman was. In Andy Serkis' ape leader Caesar is one of the greatest film characters of the decade, a biblical figure stunningly acted and rendered. The first film, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, works on its own (common theme here eh) by closing on the liberated monkeys as a disease begins to spread. That could have been it, setting up how one ape led a revolution that took out human life. But along came Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, a very dark and poignant epic that upped the action and emotional stakes amidst a post-apocalyptic landscape. With an ending promising war, we got War for the Planet of the Apes, which took a smart approach of depicting a more psychological and inner war for Caesar than perhaps the all out conflict people expected. That isn't to say there is no action; the film is book-ended by two breathtaking battles, but this is more a war film in the vein of Apocalypse Now, The Bridge on the River Kwai and The Great Escape. The trilogy charts Caesar's journey from revolutionary to leader to a biblical hero who saved his people. Its a fusion of Moses and Jesus, and the film does't skimp on some of the images. Its a fascinating evolution, and the third film is an emotional sendoff that wraps the stories together, ending in hope.
As mentioned before, the final two are in their own little group for being a different take on a trilogy. The previous eight have all been connected through character and narrative; they are internally linked trilogies. I like to refer to these two trilogies as external ones; linked by things outside of the worlds they are set in. These are films connected by director, genre or style, and cannot be compared critically to the internal trilogies I have just listed.
The Man With No Name / Dollars Trilogy (1964, 1965, 1966)
These films introduced three vital parts of cinema: Clint Eastwood, director Sergio Leone, and the Spaghetti-western genre. With A Fistful of Dollars, the sub genre was invented; a bleak landscape where men, separated on the frontier from law, religion and women, are reduced to morally bankrupt rogues, bandits and bounty hunters. Here Eastwood's character pits two sides of a town against the other before ridding the area of bad guy Ramone and his gang. In For a Few Dollars More, the Man With No Name teams up with Lee Van Cleef's Colonel Mortimer to hunt a gang and claim the hefty bounty. In the almighty The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, Eastwood is the 'Good', Van Cleef is the 'Bad' and Eli Wallach joins in as Tuco 'the Ugly'. The first film has one main character, the second film two main characters and the third has three, so there is a nice evolution, as well as the progressively longer film length. The films act as demonstrations of style, the extreme close ups juxtaposed to massive wide shots, with rapid fire editing, stillness, casual violence, black comedy and outstanding music all forming the Spaghetti-western genre. The Man With No Name seems to be the connective tissue between the films, thanks to that green poncho, but nothing is carried over to other films. And if anything, he should be the Man With Many Names, as Eastwood goes by Joe, Manko and Blondie across the three films. The duel roles for Van Cleef and Gian Maria Volonte (antagonist in 1-2) also suggest these films do not necessarily inhabit the same world. But stylistically it is a trilogy, you can buy them in a Blu-ray set and Eastwood is the face of it, even if he is barely a character and the stories are in no ways follow ons.
Leone also directed a second 'trilogy', the Once Upon a Time... trilogy, which contains Once Upon a Time in the West, Duck, You Sucker / A Fistful of Dynamite / Once Upon a Time... in the Revolution and Once Upon a Time in America. The relationship between these films is even more minute than the Dollars movies; two are westerns and one is a multi-generational crime film. All that brings together is the director, Ennio Morricone's music and their titles if you are European.
The Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy (2004, 2007, 2013)
Edgar Wright's cult classic set of films, the Cornetto trilogy is similarly disconnected. Here is how they are linked: same director, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost as the two leads, a Cornetto ice cream cameo and being a comedy hybrid with another genre. Shaun of the Dead is a zombie rom-com, Hot Fuzz is a buddy cop action comedy and The World's End is a science-fiction alien invasion comedy. This playfulness with genre is the main focus of the trilogy's style and when viewed as three thirds, it is a fantastic deconstruction of genre and tropes inside those genres. All three movies are brilliant, endlessly quotable with some quality moments. Shaun of the Dead goes from hilarious to tense, Hot Fuzz goes from hilarious to gory to badass, The World's End goes from hilarious to political to quietly moving in its third act. It is a fantastic set of three original movies that riff on well known stories, and it makes for an unusually intriguing trilogy.
Tuesday 8 October 2019
Sergio Leone (and how to craft a phenomenal career from six films)
Consistency is key for filmmakers. Consistency means making a good film, so that you can get funding for your next project. Or, if you're Michael Bay, consistency is ensuring your film makes money, so that you can make more films and more money. Whilst there is an argument that Bay may well be one of Hollywood's most consistent directors, instead I want to focus on all genuine movie quality.
What directors always come through? Christopher Nolan is the immediate choice: ten movies, seven in the IMDb Top 250 (Following, Insomnia and Dunkirk do not make it, and the seven that do make it are all in the top 124), a huge following and the ability to turn original stories into big money makers. Martin Scorsese is another easy option; he has yet to make a 'bad' film and has shown considerable range from crime / gangster pictures to religious epics to thrillers. That being said, the quality of some of his films is of such high calibre that his lesser efforts, whilst still great, pale in comparison, losing that vital consistency. This is true for Spielberg, who has yet to blow me away this century. Quentin Tarantino has a vast following but anyone who made Pulp Fiction and also Deathproof should not be associated with the word consistency. David Fincher is pretty close were it not for Alien3 and I have yet to see all of Hitchcock and Kurosawa's works to comment on them.
But recently I watched a film, and that film was important because it meant I had completed the filmography of a director. The film was Duck, You Sucker though I intend to refer to it by the better name, A Fistful of Dynamite. The director: Mr one Sergio Leone. Completing Leone's filmography was by no means difficult; he only directed eight films and only six are readily available to find and watch.
Leone was an Italian film director, producer and writer. His parents were involved in the industry and Leone soon followed, picking up dream work experience on the sets of 1948's Bicycle Thieves, 1951's Quo Vadis and 1959's Ben-Hur. He took over as director during production of The Last Days of Pompeii in 1959 before making his full debut in 1961 with The Colossus of Rhodes. Whilst I will inevitably have to track this film down, for now I am continuing with my bittersweet view that I have seen all of Leone's 'Leone' movies (an Ennio Morricone score, American setting and his own perfected style). They are as follows:
A Fistful of Dollars (1964), For a Few Dollars More (1965), The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966), Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), A Fistful of Dynamite (1971) and Once Upon a Time in America (1984).
The fact is, Leone could have made just three of those films and be considered an all time influential great. Not many can say that they created their own genre, but with A Fistful of Dollars Leone introduced the Spaghetti-western; a more unforgiving, violent type of frontier life dominated by anti-heroes and bandits. With his Dollars trilogy, Leone stripped America of law, women and religion and focused on the men it left behind. Critics were not used to this morally grey environment where lessons and messages are dropped in favour of technique, style and all round coolness. Yes Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name does dispense some satisfying justice, but more often than not it is in the service of money, rather than any sense of loyalty or duty. A Fistful of Dollars is perhaps the weakest of Leone's films. Whilst still a thing of beauty to behold, and is endlessly rewatchable, it suffers due to to its association with Kurosawa's samurai epic Yojimbo (1961) and how it is essentially a beat for beat remake. The security of going with an already well received story gives Leone a chance to focus on technique and style, and the intense close ups, massive wide shots, musical cues and black humour all start seeping into the screen.
With his new found genre and world, Leone continued with For a Few Dollars More. In this, Eastwood is joined by Lee Van Cleef as Mortimer, a fellow bounty hunter hoping to take down a gang. Their relationship allows a more dynamic narrative than just Eastwood alone like in AFOD. A fantastic western, FAFDM slips under the radar too often when it comes to all time greats.
The following year comes a film so famous you have heard it before you have seen it: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. One of my all time favourites, TGTBATU is near three hours of cinematic perfection. The second film gave us two characters, and this third film gives us three: Eastwood and Van Cleef return, but Eli Wallach steals the film as bandit Tuco. The three-way partnership and backstabbing creates an immeasurably fun atmosphere and Morricone's score has never been stronger. The final twenty minutes of this film is on another level entirety, it is Leone with no brakes, showing off every editing and camera trick he knows, all in the service of some serious tension. Quentin Tarantino was right when he named TGTBATU one of the best directed films of all time.
Three films over three years. One founded a genre, one confirmed it and one transcended it. And Leone was just getting warmed up. 1968 saw the release of Leone's magnum opus Once Upon a Time in the West. A masterpiece if ever there was one, this steers away from the European western and was filmed in Monument Valley, the stomping ground of Johns Ford and Wayne. A clear indication that Leone was offering something a bit more elegiac; a western that may have something to say as well as show. Indeed, OUATITW concerns a widowed lady who is caught between three men: one, a wronged bandit,; two, a vicious hired gun; and three, a mysterious drifter looking to settle a score. With Henry Fonda shockingly cast against type, and with Charles Bronson in the Eastwood role, Leone conducted a western so grand and precise many view it as the greatest ever made. When watching it it seems every action, blocking and framing has been carefully thought out. The dialogue sounds like poetry and every line carries weight. It is as close to perfect a piece of cinema has can be.
Again, Leone could have stopped there. He had deconstructed the western, then made a linear, classical western which fused European technique with Hollywood narrative. Out of those four, the last two are both considered in in the all time greatest films lists, with both featuring very highly on sites like IMDb.
In 1971 came A Fistful of Dynamite, sometimes seen as Duck, You Sucker, sometimes seen as Once Upon a Time in... the Revolution. Set in the Mexican revolution, Leone cast James Coburn as an Irish freedom fighter with Rod Steiger as a Mexican bandit who both get caught up the political action. Heroes still don't sit well with Leone: Steiger robs a train and rapes a women in the opening scene whist Coburn is shown to have gunned down three unarmed men. Yet the direction and characterisation is extremely good. The second act contains some of Leone's best work: the distant sounds of gunfire as Coburn observes dead bodies; a silent flashback when viewing a snitch; a motorbike rescue from firing squad. It is a severely underrated film and I eagerly anticipate my next viewing of it,
Leone was originally asked to direct The Godfather, but he rejected in favour of directing his own multi-generational gangster story, something that in 1984 would become his final work Once Upon a Time in America. A too often overlooked Robert DeNiro crime film, OUATIA alternated in its non linear narrative between children, men and elderly men and the effect greed and violence has on friendship. It is a mammoth film, clocking in well over three and a half hours long. This length frightened Warner Bros. who trimmed it down to a little shy of 140 minutes and turned it into a linear narrative. For a devastated Leone, this would be his last film. In time, the restored version has become more universal and, for those that have seen it, it is a truly great gangster movie.
Sergio Leone died in 1989 leaving behind seven films he fully directed. Five are westerns, a genre which Leone both admired and twisted, playing Tarantino with genre before Tarantino was born. It is hard to think of a cinematic landscape where Leone didn't exist: removing The Good, the Bad and the Ugly alone would cripple so many films post 1966. When it comes to understanding shots, juxtaposing images and editing, you have to look at the work this true auteur released. When it comes to consistency, Nolan comes close, but time will tell if his pictures will inspire and endure in the same legendary way Leone's have.
What directors always come through? Christopher Nolan is the immediate choice: ten movies, seven in the IMDb Top 250 (Following, Insomnia and Dunkirk do not make it, and the seven that do make it are all in the top 124), a huge following and the ability to turn original stories into big money makers. Martin Scorsese is another easy option; he has yet to make a 'bad' film and has shown considerable range from crime / gangster pictures to religious epics to thrillers. That being said, the quality of some of his films is of such high calibre that his lesser efforts, whilst still great, pale in comparison, losing that vital consistency. This is true for Spielberg, who has yet to blow me away this century. Quentin Tarantino has a vast following but anyone who made Pulp Fiction and also Deathproof should not be associated with the word consistency. David Fincher is pretty close were it not for Alien3 and I have yet to see all of Hitchcock and Kurosawa's works to comment on them.
But recently I watched a film, and that film was important because it meant I had completed the filmography of a director. The film was Duck, You Sucker though I intend to refer to it by the better name, A Fistful of Dynamite. The director: Mr one Sergio Leone. Completing Leone's filmography was by no means difficult; he only directed eight films and only six are readily available to find and watch.
Leone was an Italian film director, producer and writer. His parents were involved in the industry and Leone soon followed, picking up dream work experience on the sets of 1948's Bicycle Thieves, 1951's Quo Vadis and 1959's Ben-Hur. He took over as director during production of The Last Days of Pompeii in 1959 before making his full debut in 1961 with The Colossus of Rhodes. Whilst I will inevitably have to track this film down, for now I am continuing with my bittersweet view that I have seen all of Leone's 'Leone' movies (an Ennio Morricone score, American setting and his own perfected style). They are as follows:
A Fistful of Dollars (1964), For a Few Dollars More (1965), The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966), Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), A Fistful of Dynamite (1971) and Once Upon a Time in America (1984).
The fact is, Leone could have made just three of those films and be considered an all time influential great. Not many can say that they created their own genre, but with A Fistful of Dollars Leone introduced the Spaghetti-western; a more unforgiving, violent type of frontier life dominated by anti-heroes and bandits. With his Dollars trilogy, Leone stripped America of law, women and religion and focused on the men it left behind. Critics were not used to this morally grey environment where lessons and messages are dropped in favour of technique, style and all round coolness. Yes Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name does dispense some satisfying justice, but more often than not it is in the service of money, rather than any sense of loyalty or duty. A Fistful of Dollars is perhaps the weakest of Leone's films. Whilst still a thing of beauty to behold, and is endlessly rewatchable, it suffers due to to its association with Kurosawa's samurai epic Yojimbo (1961) and how it is essentially a beat for beat remake. The security of going with an already well received story gives Leone a chance to focus on technique and style, and the intense close ups, massive wide shots, musical cues and black humour all start seeping into the screen.
With his new found genre and world, Leone continued with For a Few Dollars More. In this, Eastwood is joined by Lee Van Cleef as Mortimer, a fellow bounty hunter hoping to take down a gang. Their relationship allows a more dynamic narrative than just Eastwood alone like in AFOD. A fantastic western, FAFDM slips under the radar too often when it comes to all time greats.
The following year comes a film so famous you have heard it before you have seen it: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. One of my all time favourites, TGTBATU is near three hours of cinematic perfection. The second film gave us two characters, and this third film gives us three: Eastwood and Van Cleef return, but Eli Wallach steals the film as bandit Tuco. The three-way partnership and backstabbing creates an immeasurably fun atmosphere and Morricone's score has never been stronger. The final twenty minutes of this film is on another level entirety, it is Leone with no brakes, showing off every editing and camera trick he knows, all in the service of some serious tension. Quentin Tarantino was right when he named TGTBATU one of the best directed films of all time.
Three films over three years. One founded a genre, one confirmed it and one transcended it. And Leone was just getting warmed up. 1968 saw the release of Leone's magnum opus Once Upon a Time in the West. A masterpiece if ever there was one, this steers away from the European western and was filmed in Monument Valley, the stomping ground of Johns Ford and Wayne. A clear indication that Leone was offering something a bit more elegiac; a western that may have something to say as well as show. Indeed, OUATITW concerns a widowed lady who is caught between three men: one, a wronged bandit,; two, a vicious hired gun; and three, a mysterious drifter looking to settle a score. With Henry Fonda shockingly cast against type, and with Charles Bronson in the Eastwood role, Leone conducted a western so grand and precise many view it as the greatest ever made. When watching it it seems every action, blocking and framing has been carefully thought out. The dialogue sounds like poetry and every line carries weight. It is as close to perfect a piece of cinema has can be.
Again, Leone could have stopped there. He had deconstructed the western, then made a linear, classical western which fused European technique with Hollywood narrative. Out of those four, the last two are both considered in in the all time greatest films lists, with both featuring very highly on sites like IMDb.
In 1971 came A Fistful of Dynamite, sometimes seen as Duck, You Sucker, sometimes seen as Once Upon a Time in... the Revolution. Set in the Mexican revolution, Leone cast James Coburn as an Irish freedom fighter with Rod Steiger as a Mexican bandit who both get caught up the political action. Heroes still don't sit well with Leone: Steiger robs a train and rapes a women in the opening scene whist Coburn is shown to have gunned down three unarmed men. Yet the direction and characterisation is extremely good. The second act contains some of Leone's best work: the distant sounds of gunfire as Coburn observes dead bodies; a silent flashback when viewing a snitch; a motorbike rescue from firing squad. It is a severely underrated film and I eagerly anticipate my next viewing of it,
Leone was originally asked to direct The Godfather, but he rejected in favour of directing his own multi-generational gangster story, something that in 1984 would become his final work Once Upon a Time in America. A too often overlooked Robert DeNiro crime film, OUATIA alternated in its non linear narrative between children, men and elderly men and the effect greed and violence has on friendship. It is a mammoth film, clocking in well over three and a half hours long. This length frightened Warner Bros. who trimmed it down to a little shy of 140 minutes and turned it into a linear narrative. For a devastated Leone, this would be his last film. In time, the restored version has become more universal and, for those that have seen it, it is a truly great gangster movie.
Sergio Leone died in 1989 leaving behind seven films he fully directed. Five are westerns, a genre which Leone both admired and twisted, playing Tarantino with genre before Tarantino was born. It is hard to think of a cinematic landscape where Leone didn't exist: removing The Good, the Bad and the Ugly alone would cripple so many films post 1966. When it comes to understanding shots, juxtaposing images and editing, you have to look at the work this true auteur released. When it comes to consistency, Nolan comes close, but time will tell if his pictures will inspire and endure in the same legendary way Leone's have.
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