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Rating:
What can you do? Resisting Clint's charm, whose face could be taken and placed on Mount Rushmore next to Roosevelt, is difficult for a real man like me and many others who gravitate around DeBaser..
I had to settle scores with this film; I had to pay a debt to the movie that made me fall in love with cinema and the exceptions of cinema. With my tongue flavored by strong tastes of nachos with guacamole, sarsaparilla, and orecchiette with turnip tops (the correspondence between southern Italy and Italian western I will reveal shortly) over these centuries of my life, if it went this way I owe it to this ponchowestern.
1976. 11 years old (I was a handsome child, then I became a handsome loafer); losing my cinematic virginity with entering the cinema without parents to see "Fistful of Dollars" during that spring revival of Leone's westerns, which allowed cinemas to fill the tills during moments of lull. I had this title in my ear (after 12 years the echo was still felt around Italy and they were still releasing bucatiniwestern movies at the cinema; even though people were starting to get tired of titles like "Gli fumavano le colt...lo chiamavano Camposanto", "Mi chiamano Tresette, gioco sempre col morto") and I happily rushed to the San Marco cinema, now Montatori bookstore. The San Marco was beautiful, I also saw 2001 there, and I still miss it today: if I'm nostalgic, I wander to the Excelsior in Mes3, which resembles it a bit (I went to see "Jackie Brown" and felt at home...).
We were 6-7 in the theater, it was the teenagers' show, the 3 PM one. Some cigarettes were smoking among the seats... darkness in the room... the Unidis film presents... love at first sight (back then I had perfect eyesight)...
After some exploits in peplum cinema ("The Colossus of Rhodes"), Leone decided to make a western: already 23 had been made in Italy, not counting the German productions from the novels of the German Salgario, Karl May (May, not Marx...); at the time, the devour and swallow producers Papi and Colombo told Leone that there were pennies from "Le pistole non discutono" of good Caiano Mario (author of the unmissable "Il mio nome è Shangai Joe") and that he could care less about giving money to Toho film for the rights to "Yojimbo" by Kurosawa, as who cared about a second-run western, let alone the Japs.... a western released by Unidis film on August 14, 1964; if even a Japanese was roaming around Rome, do you think that on August 14, 1964, they would go see a spaghetti western, in our tongue, in a non-air-conditioned little cinema?
Eh Eh: the fact is that the few (I believe) patrons, enthusiastic about the poncho-wearing bristly gringo, spread wide and far the saturating delirious effectiveness of this raw western, a bit of Harlequin serving two masters, somewhat Cena delle beffe. and since then the masses, not caring about the sea the color of Marino, avoided the cinema to see the adventures of the unnamed gunslinger, alone dealing with two families of cunning ruffians, the Mexican one with the son of an unknown mother Ramon (Volontè, fantastic as always, unfortunately dubbed by Nando Gazzolo), the American one with the domino-playing matriarch, dressed in black before widowhood.
It is said that in a cinema people broke the box office to get in: imagine, on the soundtrack the first KABLAMMM!, then sampled in ALL the westernspags, the close-ups ever closer into the wrinkles, like "barren landscapes", Volontè's hysterical acting contrasted with Clint's Bond-like composure, a real American, cool cool, tall tall (1.95 meters; during breaks, he slept in a 500, then stretched and voilà, perfect for the scene); where everyone was ruthless, filthy, grinning, with mulberry-stained teeth as if we were at the zoo. and the costumes recovered at the Western Costumes, in the U.S., but from the leftover of their stock (I believe Clint's poncho is now on display at the Louvre, I'll check). And the chili peppers and dry tomato strands to make us feel at home, in the beautiful southern Italy, where this film seems to have been shot.
In short, the success was such that Unidis couldn't believe it, Leone was recruited by Mr. Alberto Grimaldi, the super-mega-producer, for the forced sequel to which this is some additional dollars. For a fistful went around the world and reached Japan; the Japanese go crazy for the Italian westerns because they always find a correspondence with their historical ronin: and how not to love a saturated western with a protagonist who is none other than the Sanjuro from the wonderful "Yojimbo". So Toho film saw the movie and obviously sued the Italian-Roman crew, who lost the case (I challenge you, the Italian film was exactly the same...). Even today, these bastards hold part of the rights, including the exploitation of the film in Japan and neighboring areas.
A nice load of money lost... but by then Leone had become a god.
In retrospect, there are many little flaws encountered in For a Fistful: apart from Clint's goof during the duel where he loads the gun (with the snake-inlaid handle, present in all Leone's westerns) with only one bullet and then spins the cylinder like it was Russian roulette... Clint had good luck, the film doesn't hold the intensity of Kurosawa's original, nor is Eastwood Toshiro. The money was scarce and occasionally the film is skimpy on the details, the day for night during the chases is as clear as daylight. The faces of the secondary actors are the usual Lazio faces that will persist even in Leone's masterpieces, impairing its total aesthetic sufficiency. The deguello was stolen from "Rio Bravo". And it's not true that Leone begins the demythization of the west and soda genre. Meanwhile, we are not in the west: and this is not necessarily a flaw. We are in a free zone of emotions, sensations, lights, and colors that perhaps will delight many's eyes, but we are not in the west. If anything we are in Ostuni but not in Texmex. Then Leone is a stylist: he is interested in the image, the powerful effect, the ecstasy of violence, between slow gestures and fast duels (very Japanese in this). But he's not interested in tearing apart the west epic. This is not to deny the powerful influence that Sergio has spread in cinema tout court; apart from the myriad of imitations and the birth of the last great strand of Italian pop cinema, Leone draws a red thread up to the over-mentioned Tarantino (uh, we're still in Puglia).
But... despite "the blue and red pencil marks (O.De Fornari "Sergio Leone")" and thanks especially to Ennio's music (signed Dan Savio) "For a Fistful of Dollars" remains in the annals forever as an example of how powerful the force of popular cinema is!!!
main pseudonyms: BOB ROBERTSON=SERGIO LEONE; JOHN WELLS=GIAN MARIA VOLONTE'; DAN SAVIO=ENNIO MORRICONE; FRANK PRESTLAND=STELVIO MASSI; BOB QUINTLE=ROBERO CINQUINI; MAX DILLMANN=MASSIMO DALLAMANO
Sure they had a many fakes these people: almost if they were on DeBaser..
Yet, despite this, 'For a Fistful' remains one of the most entertaining, memorable examples of what popular cinema was.
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