Um, absolutely.
Of course, I’m not a person to ask. I adore Leone so much, and have adored him so much for so long that by this point in time I’ve got zero critical distance. And I really don’t understand anyone who doesn’t enjoy his movies, in particular the Eastwood trilogy.
And the new Blu-ray of this is also spectacular, in ways I can’t begin to capture with my otherwise exemplary camera.
I have an older friend who described to me the day he dragged a bunch of his 16 year old friends to see “2001: A Space Odyssey” when it was released back n 68. He had seen it the day before and was moved to tears by it, and when it was all over one of the boys asked “We skipped Clint Eastwood for this?” And, if you think about it, “The Good the Bad and the Ugly” is still a more popular movie.
Not that this says anything about the movie one way or another. I confess, I have seen exactly two Leone movies in my life— “The Good the Bad and the Ugly” and “Once Upon a Time in America” (which is one I don’t get the love for, unfortunately), and I definitely have always adored TGTB&TU and don’t really understand the backlash against it. I wouldn’t place it on the level of the best of Ford (or even Boetticher or Hawks), but it has a power and a sense of spectacle that is difficult to deny.
“Not that this says anything about the movie one way or another.” No kidding. Doesn’t say anything about “2001,” either.
@Ryan. I’m assuming you’ve seen the full 4+ hour cut of “Once Upon a Time in America,” and not the butchered theatrical release, right? The US theatrical cut is pretty lousy; I think the 4+ hour cut, though, is really magnificent. It pretty much had me from the 10+ minute phone-ring sequence, which made me overlook whatever flaws the rest of the movie had.
I too have never really warmed up to “Once Upon a Time in America”, but I have seen “Once Upon a Time in the West” about, oh, I’d say two dozen times in the last four or five years. It’s hypnotic, amazing cinema and despite the number of times I’ve seen, I have yet to exhaust it and have yet to get to the point where I can talk about why it’s great. And for someone who, as various comments threads will attest, pontificate on all sorts of cinema both great and abysmal, my tongue-tiedness is a testament to the greatness of “Once Upon a Time in the West” in particular and Leone in general.
Should add that of the Eastwood trilogy, my least favourite is the first; it’s enjoyable as hell but it’s just so beholden to Kurosawa’s film that it doesn’t quite stand out for me the way “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” or “For a Few Dollars More” do; “For a Few” usually seems overshadowed by “Ugly” but I think they’re both bonafide masterpieces.
Haven’t seen Colossus of Rhodes yet; Glenn, is it worth watching in its own right or only in the context of Leone’s oeuvre?
Just recently discovered this blog and really like it… just thought I’d chime in and that while I enjoy the Eastwood trilogy, I’m always somewhat surprised that it tends to get so much more recognition than Once Upon a Time in the West. Maybe “so much” is a bit of an exaggeration, but at least among the average movie fan, it certainly does. I definitely prefer Once Upon a Time in the West. The biggest problem for me would be picking between the two “Once Upon a Times.”
You know what makes TGTBTU great? The scene with Eastwood and Wallach leaving the monastery and Tuco brags up How much his brother loves him tho we know Eastwood just saw them fighting. And then he hands Tuco his cigar and just watch the way Wallach chews up the cigar smiling as he finds his bravado again while Morricone’s music amplifies all. Amazing.
And Ryan, if you haven’t seen ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST, you haven’t SEEN Leone.
Love all of his movies. My favorite are For a Few Dollars More, Once Upon a Time in the West, and Duck, You Sucker. The latter benefits greatly from the full restoration it recently got on DVD, including some significant portions that had been cut out.
It was rumored that Leone tried to get Eastwood to play the Bronson part in Once Upon a Time in the West (and maybe even that Wallach and Van Cleef stand in for Robards and Fonda, respectively… but I doubt that part). I’m not sure the film would have the same impact. Something about Bronson’s steel blue eyes in a tight Leone close-up make it difficult to appraise if the film would be any better with Eastwood in the role.
So I’ll throw this question out there for you guys: What are your thoughts on that bit of recasting?
I remember something from the extras on the DVD of Once Upon the Time in the West where they said there was a rumor that Leone wanted those three guys that you mentioned to be the three that are gunned down in the opening scene of the film. That would have been crazy.
But with your question, I agree with you that Bronson has a unique quality for the Harmonica character. And I definitely don’t think anyone could have topped Henry Fonda in his role.
I’ve always felt Sergio Leone was one of the best directors to use the 2.35:1 frame, particularly for close-ups and wide shots and the way he cut from one to the other.
“The Good, the Bad and the Ugly” will never stop being great, though I still think “Once Upon a Time in the West” is still his greatest film. TGTBATU has that moment, of course, when Eli Wallach demonstrates the fallacy of the talking killer: “If you’re gonna shoot, shoot! Don’t talk!”
Can’t say I feel “Once Upon a Time in America” is really a great film. It has its moments, but I think even the 4‑hour version is a bit of an ambitious mess, though still interesting to watch.
How is TGTBATU more popular that 2001?
2001 made more money. 2001 was nominated for Oscars. 2001 is a regular staple of Top 10 lists.
But (and not that this is a great argument for or against either film), people tend to walk out of Good/Bad/Ugly laughing/cheering/disclaiming loudly about how great the movie is. People tend to walk out of 2001 more often scratching their heads.
Wouldn’t surprise me to find out that far more people watch TGTBATU now than 2001. 2001 doesn’t seem to fare as well on the small screen as Leone does. Just my observation, which may well be incredibly misguided.
The only thing the story in the comment at the top of the thread conveys to me is that the person who related the story to Ryan had one feeling about 2001 and all his friends had a different feeling. What it achieves to “think about” TGTBATU being more popular film is, er, not much of anything, really. Still not sure why the story is even there unless it’s as the type of silly argument in which one builds up one thing by tearing down another, completely different thing, but Ryan says that wasn’t his point at all. So, as my previous comment hopefully conveys, I’m confused why the story is even there.
@Ellen – Because Ryan felt like relating it? Maybe? I’m more curious about why your so upset about the comment’s existence.
I came here only to say that, for me, “Once Upon a Time in the West” is far and away the best Leone I’ve seen. And I like the others I’ve seen very much, with the exception of “Once Upon a Time in America”, which I also think is an ambitious mess. But “West” is just perfect. Such a marelous, wild, beautiful and gripping piece of storytellng.
Not upset, just (as stated) confused, and have definitely gone on about said confusion at far more length than I should’ve. Though as we can see from two comments above my second comments, I’m not the only one.
I’d like to live in a time when THE GOOD, THE BAD & THE UGLY opened a year before 2001: A SPACE ODYESSY…Why compare one to the other?
@ Ellen: Sorry I upset you so much.
@ Chevalier: “2001” is probably more institutionalized as a ‘classic’, you’re right, but if I went ’round my college campus and asked, out of the two, which more people had seen my money would be on Leone’s film. And I think that’s a testament to how endearing the film is— I feel like my generation feels like TGTB&TU is theirs in a way, because Tarantino brought the spaghetti western back into the pop-culture with “Kill Bill: Vol. 2”. Jason M. is right, “2001” does lose much of its power on the small screen and that may be why it’s become among Kubrick’s least popular films with younger folks. But it certainly struck a chord with the culture at the time, but so did the “Dollar” trilogy (and don’t forget in the U.S. TGTB&TU was the third Eastwood/Leone film in less than a year, and still very successful)
@ Christian: I know! And, worse yet, I’m something of a huge Henry Fonda fan. And I’ve only seen squeaky clean Fonda!
@ Bill: Thanks for sticking up for me, buddy. =)
I agree with Christian, I would have loved to have been alive to see both films on their initial release. Got to see “A Space Odyssey” a few times in the city over the last few years, but not “The Good The Bad and the Ugly”. Every time I watch the DVD I feel like I’m getting cheated!
I’m never going to be the guy who’s gonna put “2001” against “The Good…” because for me both films are part of the cinematic awakening I underwent in the late ’60s at Bergenfield’s Palace theater. Those two pictures, along with Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead,” were the three big ones that blew my not-yet-ten-year-old mind back in the day…along with the TV series “Cinema 13.” It’s all part of the same ball of wax, one that somehow determined my destiny.
You were a child of impeccable taste, Mr. Kenny. They were both also part of a long series of all time greats that I watched my freshman year of High School that really heightened my senses as to what movies could do. I saw “Citizen Kane”, “Lawrence of Arabia”, “The Maltese Falcon”, “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”, “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre”, “Sunset Boulevard”, and the other aforementioned films among others all within a very shot period of time, and it was glorious. I actually got to see many of those on the big screen at the end of my senior year and everything did really come full circle.
How’d you talk your parents into letting you see “Night of the Living Dead” at such a young age? I mean, the title makes no bones about the subject matter…
As an aside here, who else here thinks that with the recent resurgence of IMAX as a feature exhibition format that 2001 needs to be remastered and released in IMAX format?
Potentially sacriligious, I know, but for the past few years, I’ve been thinking how awesome it would be to see a few 70mm originated films making their way to the IMAX screen. 2001, Lawrence of Arabia, Playtime, etc. Yeah, it’s never going to happen, of course, but if it did, I’d be really tempted to park myself in a seat at the local IMAX for the entire run. Especially if it were 2001 or Playtime.
And at the very least, it’s safe to say that it would beat the hell out of whatever the latest IMAX’d blockbuster is.
I think comparing “The Good…” and “2001” is apples and oranges, but since we’re doing it, I care a lot less about “2001” than I do about “The Good…”. And that reason is because since Kubrick doesn’t give a shit about anything beyond the pretty pictures, the movie gets old fast, especially in light of how self-satisfied it is. At least “The Good…” is entertaining as well as thoughtful.
Well Dan, I think Kubrick does give a shit about mankind in 2001 as it’s his most optimistic ending ever. Bowman reclaims humanity and evolves by overthrowing the very machine that took him to space. I find 2001 moving in its cosmic grandeur every time I watch it. And re-reading Christopher Frayling’s in-depth bio of Sergio Leone, there are a few of Leone’s associates who claim he had little thought except for detail and staging, but we know this is not true. I think Leone is as much a misanthrope as Kubrick could be…
Once Upon A Time In The West is my favourite Leone. For A Few Dollars More, though not as ambitious as TGTB&TU, is my fave of the Man With No Name Trilogy, as Eli Wallach gets on my nerves a bit in the third installment. Duck, You Sucker is highly underrated, and Once Upon A Time In America…is mostly a product of its era, with all the positive and negative connotations that go with it…bit too sentimental, at times lacking in cinematic verve.
I think that if younger people consider 2001 one of Kubrick’s least popular works it says more about younger people than it does the movie. I’ve never seen a better movie in my entire life. Not much else out there even has the right to look in its general direction, it’s so uniquely superior.
Long time lurker, first time poster.
I actually think TGTB&TU and 2001 comparisons are quite apropos. Both films distill genre conventions to their essence and turn that essence into something operatic. Of course, Leone’s approach evokes Verdi where Kubrick’s evokes Schoenberg. Beyond the conceptual similarities, there are some formal consonances. I’m thinking especially about the ways both Leone and Kubrick have a way of filming spaces so that two feet feels like several yards.
Regarding TGTB&TU’s supposed greatness, it partly depends on what version you’re talking about. I don’t much like the extended cut, with Eastwood and Wallach dubbing in their lines thirty years after the fact. I hate the dubbing, and I especially hate the way that every added scene stops the narrative flow dead in its tracks. Even in the superior form, it’s not even quite the best film of 1966. I would rank it a notch below Bergman’s Persona and Godard’s Masculin Feminin, not to mention one of my all time favorite film maudits, Fahrenheit 451. That said, it’s the sort of highly enjoyable, very-good-if-not-quite-great instance of an overrated film that I don’t feel like putting much energy into demoting its status, except to insist that it really isn’t even among the top 20 greatest Westerns ever made.
Once Upon a Time in the West, on the other hand, might be, and count me among the confused minority that considers Once Upon a Time in America to be Leone’s greatest work. Yes, it’s a mess, but a quite glorious one, and the slightly mad, reckless quality of it is part and parcel of its greatness. I think one reason I prefer both Once Upon a Times is the presence of female characters as vital forces. (Can a film be great if it has absolutely nothing to say about half the human race?) The feminine presences in both films, and the confused and powerful swirl of emotions around that presence, make both films feel far more deeply felt than the Man with No Name trilogy.
“Can a film be great if it has absolutely nothing to say about half the human race?”
Depends on how well it says things about the other half, in as much as saying things about parts of the human race is critical to the greatness of cinema.
“Depends on how well it says things about the other half, in as much as saying things about parts of the human race is critical to the greatness of cinema.”
Reminder to self: don’t included provocatively barbed rhetorical questions in posts unless I’m prepared to follow them up. Duly noted. So here it goes: I wouldn’t define a film’s merits by “what” it says about being human(which will almost always be some sort of cliché, even in the greatest works), but films communicate something by default (all art is a kind of address; i.e., it’s a form a communication; i.e., it’s saying something, even if that something that can’t be articulated in words). Whatever a movie happens to “say” functions as a kind of organizing principle, defining what does and doesn’t get represented, and the intensity with which it is represented (think “Tradition is Important” as just such an organizing principle in John Ford movies). So as I see it, “saying something” isn’t critical to the quality of a film as much as it’s an intrinsic characteristic of artistic expression. Now, when a film is organized in such a way to evince little or no interest in women, I usually take that as a limitation(it’s one reason I prefer Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon to 2001), and something that bugs me even when it characterizes films I adore (for instance, John Carpenter’s The Thing). There are political reasons for this preference, but also aesthetic ones. And here is where I go ahead and contradict myself and in fact argue in some depth against the idea that TGTB&TU is a great film, and in doing so risk going from a lurker to a hijacker all in the course of a single morning.
Previously, I said TGTB&TU is a distillation of the Western. I should have said it plays like a 12 year old boy’s distillation of the Western. That means, in part, all the most macho sacraments of Westerns – shoot outs, fights, and of course duels – emphasized and extended, with a fetishistic attention to all the attendant rites. It also means that all the mushy stuff (i.e., anything having to do with women) gets left out. The result is a movie that’s exhilarating, but also a little shallow. Shallow in this instance doesn’t have anything to do with paucity of ideas, but rather with the rather limited range of feeling. Compare TGTB&TU with something like Boetticher’s The Tall T, a less obviously audacious film, but one with a quite shattering sense of the random brutality of the West. In contrast with The Tall T, TGTB&TU is rather disengaged from the violence it portrays. TGTB&TU is almost as abstract as something by Brakhage, which is precisely what a lot of people respond to so strongly about TGTB&TU, but also what leaves me admiring the film rather than loving it. TGTB&TU portrays violence as a pure formal pattern, a way of representing violence that has been enormously influential on any number of subsequent filmmakers, for good and for ill. (And let me be clear that I’m not making any kind of moral argument with Leone’s approach to gun play; my argument is that the emotional disengagement makes the violence less interesting, not that it makes it makes real life violence attractive or any nonsense like that.)
I see the relative narrowness of TGTB&TU as particularly linked to the absence of women, since many of the best moments in OUATITW and OUATIA have to do with the female characters and the ebb and flow of feeling attached to them. The money in TGTB&TU is a MacGuffin used to generate the quest narrative and the subsequent parade of genre conventions, but which in itself means nothing; both the Once Upon a Time films make women generating forces of action, creating a sense of real meaning and urgency to the stakes in play.
Here’s another related and not unimportant factor in why I like TGTB&TU less than OUATITW: in OUATITW I get to look at Claudia Cardinale for over two hours. In TGTB&TU, I get Eli Wallach. Call me shallow, but I think these things matter.
@Paul: While I don’t agree one hundred percent with everything you have to say, boy do I love the way you say it. I’ll have to reread and rethink your comment for a few hours before I can respond intelligently, but I just wanted to jump in with three things: (1) while I don’t see “2001” as being particularly about one gender but about humanity as a whole, I do think “Barry Lyndon” is the best of the master’s films and the one that most strongly rebukes that old and weary chestnut, Kubrick-the-cold-and-calculating; (2) I agree that OUATITW is better than G,B,U and that it certainly seems more deep and mature; and (3), I too would rather look at Cardinale than Wallach.
“(Can a film be great if it has absolutely nothing to say about half the human race?)”
Yes.
I don’t even think Once Upon a Time in America is a mess. At all. I think the sexual politics are highly problematic, but they are exactly what Leone intended them to be. It’s a mature work in the sense that it’s as mature as Leone was ever going to get. It has mind-blowing sequences and sweep, and if it doesn’t aim for the kind of monumental visual poetry Leone attained in West, that’s because Leone abandoned most of his visual planning in order to accommodate DeNiro’s needs as an actor.
Never mind 2001 versus Ugly, I think comparing America to West or any other Leone is quite hard (but more productive), because it’s so different. Not just in genre, but in approach: Leone had to let DeNiro play the scene, and then find a way to shoot it, rather than blocking everything first. It’s closer to Duck You sucker, where Leone took over the reins at short notice and was presumably forced to improvise more.
I would agree that Ugly is now more liked by the public than 2001, which has a lot to do with the rising of Eastwood’s star, and the decline of the auteur’s standing among the populace.
And THE GOOD, THE BAD & THE UGLY is longer than 2001: A SPACE ODYESSY!
Guess what? X‑Men is more popular among the public than 2001. Batman is more popular than Citizen Kane. But does anybody here actually think that X‑Men or The Dark Knight are the better films?
I like TGTBATU a lot. It’s consistently entertaining. But is it a better film than 2001? Don’t be ridiculous.
I bet in 1968, a lot more young people went to 2001 than TGTBTU…course, you could pack your pockets full of hash and trip balls in the Cinerama Dome.…and 2001 certainly made more money than TGTBTU in the day. Regardless. They’re both glacial, expertly staged genre dioramas. And classics!
“I bet in 1968, a lot more young people went to 2001 than TGTBTU”
Yes, indeed. According to the Variety charts, TGTBTU grossed $4.5 million in 1968, while 2001 grossed $8.5 mil. Not bad in either case, but neither was initially among the top 10 earners for the year, although by 1970 2001 had pulled in $14.5 million, which would have made it the eighth highest grosser of ’68, just above Rosemary’s Baby ($12.3 mil) and just below Planet of the Apes ($15 mil).
Not sure where those numbers came from. But according to the IMDb there’s not much of a comparison.
2001: A Space Odyssey:
USA: $56.7M
WW: $190.7M
The Good, the Bad & the Ugly:
USA: $6.1M
WW: NA
2001 smokes TGTBATU. Made more money. More Oscars/noms. Regular staple on international top 10 lists.
Ah, Variety. Just reread.
Anyhow. Point remains.
@Paul – Wow, that was a far better and more detailed response than my snarky comment deserved. Guess that’ll teach me to think twice before firing off a quick post and heading out the door for the day. Duly humbled here.
Anyway, having just delurked myself here this past week, welcome fellow delurker.
Also, just for the record, I completely agree with you and Tom about Barry Lyndon being Kubrick’s best film (where’s the Blu-ray, Warners?), as well as about …West being better than Good/Bad/Ugly. And no argument whatsoever about Cardinale being much nicer to look at than Wallach. Wallach’s funnier than Cardinale though.
I have righted a cine-wrong by finally watching BARRY LYNDON yesterday. The one Kubrick film I’ve never seen. Tho I knew the movie somewhat through the MAD Magazine parody, “Borey Lyndon.” Kept waiting for years for the right revival screening. Broke down and watched. It’s now one of my favorite Kubricks. Had no idea it was so satirical. And stunning photography of course. I always thought Kubrick had odd casting ideas, and Ryan O’Neal must be his most unique. I actually thought O’Neal was a perfect literal definition of a cad. And the last Kubrick film with an intermission…
>SIGH My opinion about “2001” and Kubrick in general are kind of tied together, along with my opinion about what makes a movie genuine art in general, and they will be unpopular. I’d ask all in question to remember it’s my opinion. I’m not stating fact here, just illustrating what I see in the text, and my personal approach to a film and to filmmaking. I don’t find “2001” moving for two reasons: one, it commits the cardinal sin of any effects-heavy movie, being enthralled by its own effects and technical proficiency, and two, it is so much of its time that to remove it is to reduce it. Or, if you like brevity, it’s aged like Thunderbird. Problem is, audiences who weren’t born in 1968 shouldn’t be expected not to remove it from its time, but that’s precisely what we do. I knew every relevant frame of this movie before I ever saw it, because it had become so ingrained into culture that it became a touchstone for jokes. And frankly, it should tell you something it became the butt of so many, but more on that in a minute. Let’s tackle the first. What was brilliant effects work in 1968 (and the effects work is still solid) is commonplace now. For an audience who has never known a world without models and process photography, “2001” is like watching somebody show you how to tie your shoes set to classical. Yes, we know this, and it’s quite prettily shot, but could we please move on? Any modern audience is going to be yanked right out of the feature, and it’s not like they’re enthralled by more modern effects: the Star Wars prequels have the exact same problem, and people found those boring too. The second is more of an overall thing. It’s the little detail like the logos for companies that are dead or gone now. And it’s also in how the movie communicates its concerns, in a self-serious way with about as much subtlety as a brick to the face. Granted, this is Kubrick, a filmmaker who never liked subtlety because people might miss how smart he was being. But this is his most egregious by far. I enjoy the visual aspect, but I’m constantly taken out of the movie because Kubrick just does not trust the audience to get it, and usually his points aren’t that subtle in the first place. It’s a common attitude that “the young people” are all idiots because they don’t like what their elders like, which unfortunately bleeds into how film is taught. But the truth is, some movies don’t age and some movies do. And I feel “2001” is one of those. Even if “2001” weren’t so much of its time, I still wouldn’t like it because frankly, it’s a film without much awareness that somebody aside from Unca Stan actually has to watch the fucking thing. It’s part of what I call the Bran Muffin Atttitude, where movies exist not to engage an audience (note I didn’t say “entertain”; there’s a difference) but to provide them with penance for having fun or worse to serve as an aid to intellectual masturbation. It’s a world where long and slow equals deep and meaningful, where clarity and simplicity are confused and therefore scorned, and there has to be a canon and a certain conformity of thought. If a film has historical relevance, great, but that doesn’t mean it stays fresh. The greatest films really do keep their freshness; it’s why people still watch “Citizen Kane”. But some films and filmmakers are just too much of their time. Better to leave them there. One final note, on age. If you want to argue that younger audiences are callow and clueless, I won’t necessarily argue. But it always amuses me that “younger” is bad in these conversations. It might be worth considering that the fault lies as much with those older who expect younger audiences to be just like them as it is with the younger audience’s lack of experience. And now let the flaming commence!
@Dan – Not going to flame here, but lest this turn into a young people hate it/old people love it debate, I’d like to point out that I think of myself as still being relatively young (or at least born more than a decade after 2001 was released), and I saw 2001 for the first time in my late teens. Still thought it was pretty magnificent, and I still love the film after many repeated viewings, though I can see why some people don’t care for it much.
You’ve pretty much invalidated yourself and any further opinions you have to give. Really. That was possibly the shallowest, farthest from the mark interpretation of 2001 and Kubrick’s work in general.
First of all, 2001 wasn’t of its time, it was way ahead of its time. Most people who watch it still have no idea what’s going on. And the fact that all you really talked about were the FX kind of shows this.
Now, as you noted, 2001 is so seeped into our culture that it’s everywhere. Yes. Proof of its popularity, innovation and influence. Hello?
And one last thing, since I’m hardly in the mood to defend a director that needs no defending. Kubrick wasn’t intellectually obvious. It’s the exact opposite. He was the master of ambiguity. His movies are ridiculously over-complex. That’s why people are still arguing over his films and what was going on in them.
A friend of mine, a bit younger, hated Kubrick from about the ages of 16–21, give or take. Just like you, he considered him slow, boring, pretentious. Then he grew up. And immediately bought the Kubrick collection on Blu-ray when he went Blu. And he couldn’t stop talking about 2001.
It is the greatest motion picture of the 20th Century. And belong aside the great art works of human history.
2001 still has the greatest space scenes in film history (which Lucas almost matched in STAR WARS). And the attention Kubrick paid to these massive clean ships drifting in their cosmic ocean is to counterpoint the previous primate sequence, connected by the greatest cut in film history (while I’m hyperboling). Of course Kubrick was probably more interested in imagery and technology than earthy emotion, but 2001 is his heart in battle with his technological muses. And Mankind wins.
I can’t argue with somebody who doesn’t like the film, but I’m always down with laying it out why the film is still a landmark.
“Kubrick wasn’t intellectually obvious. It’s the exact opposite. He was the master of ambiguity.”
Recently read “The Stanley Kubrick Archives” coffee table book from Taschen (borrowed it from the library) and, but damn, do I wish Kubrick had made his “Napoleon.” Hell, I wish he had lived to make more films period.
Taschen has a new book coming out this summer just on Kubrick’s Napoleon: http://www.amazon.com/Stanley-Kubrick-Napoleon-Alison-Castle/dp/3822830658/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1235584693&sr=8–6
It’s apparently 2626 pages long…
This is a fascinating thread that I ought to have revisited earlier. But I want to chime in a little about Paul’s comments; just to say there’s all sorts of great art that exists in/depicts a circumscribed world in which quite a lot is left out. Much of Melville, for instance, excludes women; the world of Jane Austen largely excludes work. So as far as I’m concerned, there’s no inclusive rule for great art. For me, a lot of the greatness of Leone exists in a realm that’s almost abstract; the power of the images, and the sound. It’s not about depicting the world or society we live in, but, perhaps (oh gosh this is going to sound pretentious) a kind of myth, a very tightly defined one. Same, maybe, for “2001,” come to think of it.
(Follows link for Napoleon book)
Seven… seven hundred dollars? … sev… seven…? Wha…?
Oh, right, it’s Taschen.
Gah.
What, Tom, the $106.60 Amazon discount isn’t doing it for you?
Gotta love Taschen.
Also, must get my hands on a copy of that Napoleon book, at the very least in some rare book reading room in a library for a chunk of time. It looks amazing. But not recession-proof or anything.
@ Jason: Oh, there’s no question that I won’t be buying it. The question is, how can I convince my library, whose purchasing budgets decrease with each passing year, to buy it when I had to beg and plead and whimper to get them to buy the comparatively cheaper Stanley Kubrick Archives book in the first place?
“there’s all sorts of great art that exists in/depicts a circumscribed world in which quite a lot is left out. Much of Melville, for instance, excludes women”
I wouldn’t necessarily apply my film preferences to other media. In movies, depicting women involves the literal depiction of women (what with the ontology of the photographic image and whatnot), and thus involves the actual presence of female labor. I would argue the useful analogue to a film not depicting women wouldn’t be a single literary text, but rather a survey course on British literature that neglected Austen or Woolf (filmmaking, and often even film viewing, is a kind of social activity that more clearly resembles a classroom experience than the more or less private experience of writing and reading).
Now, my initial question was rhetorical, and indicates an inclination rather than a hard and fast rule. Besides Carpenter’s The Thing, I love Jarmusch’s Dead Man, Down by Law and Ghost Dog, The Assassination of Jesse James, There Will Be Blood, Session 9 – none of which evince much interest in the habits of women. But I don’t think it’s coincidental that most of examples I can think of are quite recent. (There’s also numerous girl-less WB cartoons I adore, but I’d argue that being animated excludes them from the specifically photographic issues I alluded to earlier – besides, Road Runner is a woman. I’m sure of it. A magnificent woman.) Modern American cinema often appears bifurcated in such a way to suggest that films about men and their difficulties are serious, complex films worth thinking about while films about women are fluffy distractions not worth thinking about. Cinephilia has always mainly been a kind of boy’s club activity (yes, exceptions abound, but the point remains), and recently it feels like things have taken a self-reinforcing turn – filmmakers wanting to be taken seriously don’t say much about women, guys looking for films to take serious mostly discount movies aimed primarily at women.
I’ve been thinking about these issues for the last couple of years, when I noticed that my two favorite films of 2007 (Assassination of Jesse James and There Will Be Blood) featured such insularly masculine worlds. (A lot of these concerns I’m raising have a major element of self-critique.) Ever since the movie brat revolution, great roles for women have been relatively scarce, especially when compared to the embarrassment of riches found in Classical Hollywood cinema, but it sometimes feels like the trends which started in the 70s have been accelerating of late.
I’ve also long been bothered by an anecdote a friend related to me. He was teaching a film survey course, and one of the films he screened was Powell & Pressburger’s glorious I Know Where I’m Going. The film didn’t go over well. They especially disliked Wendy Hiller’s character. One of the exercises he conducted with the class involved imagining a modern day remake of the film, tailored more to their liking. One thing they agreed on for the remake was to change the protagonist’s gender to male. The students were reluctant to articulate exactly why they wanted to make this change, but their preference implied a feeling that somehow the journeys and ambitions of a man immediately mattered more, seemed to have higher stakes, than the desires of a woman. A highly stylized, near-abstract movie about a woman traveling to Scotland to find love and riches is just trite and dull; a highly stylized, near-abstract movie about a man traveling the American Southwest to find riches is profound and exciting.
Obviously, there are no rules. You can indeed make great movies that exclude women. But why would you want to make so many of them?
Well, clearly the world of men was where Leone’s major preoccupations were. The unrealized projects described in Frayling’s biography don’t suggest the maestro was in much of a hurry to expand his world view. Other commenters have noted the bizarre sexual politics of “Once Upon a Time In America;” given those, I’m rather relieved that Leone did not venture further into the depiction of women!
That is a peculiar anecdote about the film survey and “I Know…” Social conditioning and generalized bone-headedness can be a potent combination for the Not Good. But while we’re on the subject of Powell/Pressburger, let’s hear it for their women. Even at their most obsessive and destructive, they’re always strong, always intelligent, always directed. And the films always take their concerns very seriously indeed. You are correct Paul—cinema could absolutely use more of that sort of thing. But by the same token I’m not inclined to come down on “There Will Be Blood” or “No Country” or “Assassination” for not having it. (Actually, one could make a coherent argument that the insanity of the world of “Blood” is directly correlated to its lack of any feminine presence/principle; hence that said lack is actually a vital component of its theme.)
“You can indeed make great movies that exclude women. But why would you want to make so many of them?”
One reason that comes to mind here, (and this may be a creaky limb I’m going out on, so caveat lector), is that while there are any number of great male artists in any medium that may understand the male psyche through and through, a relatively large number of these simply don’t understand women other than as basic archetypes (mother, whore, innocent that needs protecting, emotional manipulator, general obscure object of desire, etc.)
Certainly Leone would fall into this category. But it’s not too hard to think of examples across media: Cormac McCarthy (one of my favorite novelists), Andrei Tarkovsky (one of my favorite filmmakers), the Melvilles (Hermann and Jean-Pierre – though having recently seen Leon Morin, Priest, I may have to do some revising on that latter one). Not going to be exhaustive about this: we could spend hours in some misguided argument about who would be on the list.
And while this is probably a fair criticism to level against some of these artists, I think it’s very important to note that many of these artists have created great life-changing masterworks, and I’m not going be the one to say “Yes, but IF ONLY they had paid more attention to the women.” In fact, as you mentioned above, Glenn, there may be cases in which we’re all glad they didn’t. That said, there are a few charges that may be laid against them, whether rightly or wrongly:
Probably the most damning of these is that they’re misogynists, or chauvinistic/narcissistic to the point that at the very least, they don’t really care about women except as archetypes, if at all. This is probably true in a number of cases, though I suspect the number of accusations along these lines outweigh the actual offenses by several orders of magnitude.
Also, along the above lines would be something about the basic outworkings of cinema being a largely male-dominated system, at least in terms of commercial and cultural power. Men make movies for other men, etc. Discuss ad nauseum.
A lesser offense would be, basically, what I said above: that these men don’t understand women or simply write/direct/envision/whatever lousy female characters that bear little resemblance to most real women. Usually, this is also accompanied by accusations of misogyny from some corners. Cries of “a real woman would never do that, etc.” (Though also to be fair, some of those protests use many of the same archetypes as their basis for what a “real woman” would do).
More charitably (perhaps), it’s not too hard to imagine a hypothetical male artist who realizes that he doesn’t understand women well, but also doesn’t want to do them an injustice by poorly representing them, and so runs with the whole “write what you know” thing, and focuses his efforts on dissecting the male psyche, without much attention paid to the female. Good intentions, if perhaps somewhat misguided. Also, there will probably be accusations of misogyny, but likely less so than in the above cases.
As an aside here, I’d like to point out that while I understand where that stupid “write what you know” phrase came from, I think the lesson to take away from it should be “Learn as much as you possibly can, so you can write it well” not “Write inane solipsistic crap because you don’t know anything else.” Just sayin’.
Anyway, I’d be willing to guess that some combination of the above is likely at the root of much woman-excluding art. So thank God (can I say that here, Secular Movie Capo?) for filmmakers like Powell & Pressburger, not to mention great female filmmakers like Denis, Akerman, Ramsay, Campion et al.
And now I gotta get to work.
One of the things I forgot to add between the third and fourth paragraphs above (Typepad ate most of my initial post, and I had to rework it) is this:
There are a number of these artists who take this lack of understanding of women, and make it one of the central themes of their work. And fair enough: it’s a worthy theme, and better than most. For those who don’t (and even some who do), there are a number of charges that can be laid against them:
Hope that makes sense.
“I’m rather relieved that Leone did not venture further into the depiction of women!”
We’re in the realm of the subtleties of personal sensitivities here, but I’m just the opposite. I agree that the sexual politics of OUATIA are disturbing, but that’s partly why it feels more alive to me than TGTBTU. OUATIA feels like an artist exploring the outer limits of his creative capacities, and exploring ideas and feelings that make him and us uncomfortable. Remember, my argument is only partly political; it’s also, and perhaps largely, aesthetic.
Precisely because most men have confused and problematic feelings about women, representations of women tend to have a different charge than representations of men. Avoiding any emotional engagement in female characters often (and certainly not always) suggests a timidity that’s inimical to art at its most electric. Unless the artist is simply and purely a misogynist, I prefer a deeply problematic portrayal of women to no portrayal at all. That might be one reason that my favorite thing by Melville is his short story, “The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids.”
“Unless the artist is simply and purely a misogynist, I prefer a deeply problematic portrayal of women to no portrayal at all.”
I see your point there, and even concede it; let me take it in another direction, however, by adding that I’d gladly take “no portrayal at all” over a weak and stupid protrayal that doesn’t represent the fairer sex as people or even as some kind of archetypical life force (problematic as that is already) but something far worse, “the love interest”. To my mind, that’s far more insulting than anything Leone or Peckinpah has to dish out: insulting not only to women, but to the audience itself.
“Gangs of New York” would have been 1000% better with 100% less Cameron Diaz. And that’s nothing against Diaz, who can at times be an appealing presence both comedic and dramatic. But she’s given absolutely nothing to do; her character contributes nothing to the tapestry. Scorsese’s dream project had a lot of things wrong with it, but I find Diaz’s character the most egregious.
And looking at one of Scorsese’s greatest films, “Kundun”: not a significant distaff character in sight. That’s because it would contribute nothing of substance to it. Can you imagine how bad the film would be if, in an attempt to be more inclusive or, God forbid, to attract a wider demographic, the Dali Lama was given a sassy love interest?
The point that’s floating around in these couple of paragraphs is, if a film or filmmaker has something to say about women, then great!, more power to him/her! But if they don’t, I’d rather they not shoehorn it in where it clearly doesn’t belong.
And that works both ways– I’m tired of movies that are obstenstiably about strong women that devolve into romantic shenanigans and pining after some hunky fellow. There’s more to life than sexual attraction and/or finding a mate; shouldn’t women be given the same sorts of obsessions, problems, and complexity as men? This sort of shoehorning is even more insulting to women, come to think of it; I’d much rather have a film that focuses its attention squarely at one gender (in this case, female), or, to be more accurate, one distinct specific non-archetypical person.
Hope all that makes some sense; I’m still kind of half-asleep and not at the peak of my argumentative powers.
While we’re at it, where are all the films about hermaphrodites?
Very insightful, Paul.
I love me Leone but not his take on womanhood, being very shall we say, old skool madonna/whore. My least favorite moment in OUATITW is when Bronson strips Cardinale to “protect” her from the baddies outside. And I don’t know what to make of Steiger’s “comedy” rape of the woman in DUCK YOU SUCKER. Both scenes seem to lead to OUATIA’s disturbing rape scene, which makes sense in the context of the film and DeNiro’s infantile agressive desire, but combined with Tuesday Weld’s “give it to me” scene, doesn’t confer any enlightenment on Leone’s attitude. OUATIA is a film I’ve watched twice all the way through and will probably never revisit, tho it has indelible moments and one of James Woods defining roles. And I still love that endless moment with DeNiro and the cup of espresso…If only Coppola and Leone could have teamed up…
And of course, there are those who claim Kubrick didn’t understand (or much like) women either. And there are no women in RESERVOIR DOGS, but Quentin clearly likes creating female characters.
“Duck You Sucker” is one Leone film that I haven’t seen (along with “Colossus”, and so I must ask the Leoneiacs among us, is it worth seeing or best left forgotten?)– or, rather, one that I haven’t seen all the way through. And that’s because I got as far as the opening rape scene and turned it off. I’ll probably come back to it eventually but I was in no mood for it at the time.
As far as Kubrick and women go– has any woman ever been better understood and loved by a filmmaker than Lady Lyndon?
… (Well, yes. Rhetorical question.)
Get past the opening and DUCK YOU SUCKER is Leone’s real flawed masterpiece.
Earlier in this thread, Jason M. mentioned how he’d like to see classics like 2001 and Lawrence Of Arabia in IMAX. I have never been to an IMAX cinema, but as I understand it non-IMAX movies have to be cropped in order to fit on the squarer screen.
For that reason alone, I have no interest in seeing any conventional movies in IMAX, especially those shot in 2.35:1 like the aforementioned films. Bah!
I haven’t been to an IMAX since Fantasia 2000, back in, um, 2000?, but from what I’ve been told when they show a 2:35 movie like “Dark Knight” they present it letterboxed, with the screen opened up only for the special IMAX sections.
If this is true, any IMAX presentation of “2001” or “Lawrence” would likely be letterboxed as well.
@The Chevalier
I think my comment and your response sum up most film discussion on the Internet quite nicely.
To tackle one point entirely non-sarcastically: penetration into popular culture has nothing whatsoever to do with quality. Parody lives on something hitting a certain note with people, and it doesn’t have to be a GOOD note. It just has to stick with people, that’s all.
Also minor technical note on “The Dark Knight”: some scenes were actually shot in IMAX, hence that aspect ratio change. As far as formats go, I don’t think anything beats a well-maintained 70mm projector.
@Owain – Tom’s got it right. Current features that are IMAX’ed have all been letterboxed so they display the proper aspect ratio. No chopping off of sides/tops/bottoms/whatever. Dan’s also right about the Dark Knight’s aspect ratio change. The IMAX originated material in that movie looked spectacular on the IMAX screens.
Not trying to cause a flame war… not trying to cause a flame war…
Saith Dan, apropos The Chevalier: “I think my comment and your response sum up most film discussion on the Internet quite nicely.”
While I wouldn’t have put it quite the way Mr. The Chevalier does, I do have to say that I’m not sure what to think of what you think of “2001”. I’m cool with someone not liking it– it’s far from my favourite of the master’s films– but the reasons you cite– that Kubrick wants to show off/masturbate, that he’s obvious and hates subtlety, that he has the “Bran Muffin Attitude”, that it’s dated/tied to its time, that it’s in love with the effects– have me as dumbfounded as the usual Kubrick-the-cold-and-calculating reactions; I really have no idea where they are coming from, and I begin to wonder if they’ve seen the same films I have.
And, no, long and slow do not equal deep and meaningful, but since film is a temporal medium as much as it is a visual one, I have a hard time buying the argument, implied by your dismissal, that length and slow pacing can’t bring depth and meaning to the table. In fact, they’re often instrumental to it, giving you time to breathe, to inhabit the space the film creates, to mull over its meanings.
And while “younger” viewers aren’t necessarily bad ones, it’s often the younger filmgoers who don’t understand this temporal element and use “slow” as a pejorative.
And if you don’t have an appreciation for the temporal element in cinema, then, to be frank and merciless: you don’t understand film at all.
@Jason M, Tom Russell – Thanks for that. I always assumed they cropped the films because the two-disc Apollo 13 DVD features the IMAX version, and it’s presented in 1:66.1. They’ve obviously given up on that method, thank goodness. And to think I purposefully skipped a season of IMAX Bond movies for that reason!
However, I’m still a stubborn son of a bitch because I really don’t like this aspect ratio switchover nonsense. It just irritates me.
There’s no pleasing some people.
@Tom
Ah, good, some actual discussion. No worries about a flamewar, I stopped taking myself or my taste all that seriously a while ago, at least on the Internet. It’s just when somebody actually uses the phrase “master of ambiguity”, it’s a little hard not for me to be dismissive myself. That kind of begs a stupid argument over who’s more ambiguous.
Taking it in reverse: length and slow pacing can indeed bring depth to the table. There are quite a few movies I love that are longer than “2001” and more slowly paced (hell, I own “Why Does Herr R. Run Amok?” and have seen it a couple of times). But they don’t AUTOMATICALLY bring depth to the table, and you have to use them carefully; there’s also something to be said for being concise and making choices. There are quite a few filmgoers, and unfortunately also filmmakers, who make this mistake. And, yes, I think at least as far as “2001” goes, Kubrick was one of them. It’s not that the movie IS long. It’s that a lot of people feel every minute of that running time.
Kubrick not being subtle: first of all, consider just the opening of “2001”, or the scene where Dave goes through the stargate. He wants you to understand very, very clearly that something really, really important is happening, and if that means five minutes of process shots, by God, you’re going to watch those five minutes of process shots and LIKE IT. It’s the cinematic equivalent of getting elbowed in the ribs.
As far as the intellectual masturbation goes, yeah, I think somebody who made a movie that he claimed alternately was about the search for God, evolution, Nietzsche, and “it is what you make of it” (and, before you ask, yes, I think the “verbal road map” quote is a crock, considering the near-Herculean nature of getting the film made) can safely be accused of being a bit high on himself. Combine that with the aforementioned elbow digs, and then put yourself in my place.
As for “2001” being dated…it takes place in a date in the past covered with the logos of companies that are out of business. That IS going to stand out to the audience, and it IS going to take them out of the movie. But more than that, just look at the interpretations, or how serious it is about how it goes about its business. Has anybody argued for a Freudian interpretation of a film since 1975 (Bergman film discussion excepted)?
On Kubrick being cold and calculating: to be honest, it’s because of the way he works. Shooting relentless numbers of takes will drain the spontaneity out of any actor’s performance, and often it’s that spontaneity and chemistry that’s the way in for most audiences: they look for something to identify with, and a lot of people don’t find it in the majority of his films. Now, this can work in his favor sometimes (“A Clockwork Orange”). But other times, it really, really doesn’t. If you want to hear a story that’ll make your blood boil, ask me about the “Shining” screening I went to (but let’s not drag other films into it).
“He wants you to understand very, very clearly that something really, really important is happening, and if that means five minutes of process shots, by God, you’re going to watch those five minutes of process shots and LIKE IT.”
I think you’re thinking too much about it; while Kubrick certainly intends for us to grapple with the big issues here, I don’t think he was going for a purely intellectual this-represents-that and that-means-this response but rather an intuitive or experienced understanding. That is: the pretty lights are pretty lights and nothing more; it’s a pure visual and aural experience, and the knowledge it gives us is ineffable– cannot be explained, can only be felt and experienced; if you’re grappling with the film on a verbal or intellectual basis you’re grappling in vain. It’s not an allegory.
And, to come back to your earlier complaint, that, to me, *is* engaging the audience.
“On Kubrick being cold and calculating: to be honest, it’s because of the way he works. Shooting relentless numbers of takes…”
Because not knowing what you want until you get it, searching for it, being unafraid to experiment and change it up, and not framing shots until you get on the set– that’s all evidence of the cold calculating chess master, right?
But so as not to take it out of context:
“Shooting relentless numbers of takes will drain the spontaneity out of any actor’s performance, and often it’s that spontaneity and chemistry that’s the way in for most audiences: they look for something to identify with, and a lot of people don’t find it in the majority of his films.”
I’m wary of your generalization there, as Kubrick was an extremely popular and successful filmmaker in his life-time– which is why Warner Bros. gave him the amazing amount of freedom and control he had at his disposal. And, even if your assertion was true, I’d be doubly wary of saying that the opinion of the majority dictates value– after all, “Paul Blart Mall Cop” made a lot of money and was pretty freaking terrible.
But even setting that aside– maybe there’s something wrong with me, but I just don’t see it. I’ve never had trouble getting into a Kubrick film or understanding one of his characters (never say “identifying”; that’s the lowest common denominator). And I find his performances to be strong– even and especially the scenery chewing he encouraged from George C. Scott, Peter Sellars, Nicholson, et al. Many performers also gave their best and most subdued, subtle, and supple performances in his care– Ryan O’Neal has never been better. His films are– even and especially 2001– about people, characters, personalities, desires, conflicts, LIFE, humans!
What on earth is cold and calculating about _that_?
@Tom
“while Kubrick certainly intends for us to grapple with the big issues here, I don’t think he was going for a purely intellectual this-represents-that and that-means-this response but rather an intuitive or experienced understanding.”
I think you’re misunderstanding what I’m getting at here, although reviewing it I see I didn’t explain myself clearly. I don’t think you can tell an audience what to think; they’re going to take whatever you throw at them, interpret it any way they feel like regardless of how many sign posts you put up, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. The best you can do is offer hints to your opinion in the text and let them run with it.
But leaving a film that open raises the question of why you bothered in the first place. So you put in all this work and…“it means what you think it means.”
“I’m wary of your generalization there, as Kubrick was an extremely popular and successful filmmaker in his life-time– which is why Warner Bros. gave him the amazing amount of freedom and control he had at his disposal.”
You’re kind of having it both ways here: either the opinion of crowds matters or it doesn’t, depending on how much you or I like the material.
But I’m not really talking about “value” so much as just giving you an idea of why somebody might not warm to Kubrick. I’ve found his fans can lose track of this, and I thought it might be valuable for you.
“His films are– even and especially 2001– about people, characters, personalities, desires, conflicts, LIFE, humans!”
I’m not so sure that was Kubrick’s interest so much as a function of the material he chose. Kubrick sticks pretty close to the book if he possibly can do so, and sometimes he illustrates that he doesn’t get it. While I don’t agree with Burgess about the quality of the overall film, I do think he’s got something when he says Kubrick missed the point of “A Clockwork Orange”, and actually did so willfully.
Anyway, that’s my end of things.
“You’re kind of having it both ways here: either the opinion of crowds matters or it doesn’t, depending on how much you or I like the material.”
No; what I’m saying is, I don’t think mass appeal or popularity has anything to do with art, but that if you’re going to argue from that side of things, the argument doesn’t work because he *was*/is popular.
“The best you can do is offer hints to your opinion in the text and let them run with it.
But leaving a film that open raises the question of why you bothered in the first place. So you put in all this work and…‘it means what you think it means.’ ”
Completely. Totally. Disagree. I have no idea where you’re coming from there. Not to grossly misrepresent your argument here, but I have no desire to be guided, prodded, or manipulated, to have things spelt out, or to even arrive at any sort of conclusion myself. There’s no such thing as “too” open. There’s no reason for any artist in any medium to step in to his or her work and say, here’s what you should think about all this. That’s against the whole “point” of art. Art– film or novel, Kubrick or Burgess– should not have a “point”. If it did, you could just make the point and be done with it; there’d be no reason to watch it or discuss it, and there would certainly be no staying power.
“But I’m not really talking about “value” so much as just giving you an idea of why somebody might not warm to Kubrick. I’ve found his fans can lose track of this, and I thought it might be valuable for you.”
Just wanted to add that I did note and I do understand this, just that I disagree strongly with the reasoning that the anti-Kubrick contingent operates from, especially since so much of it– he’s in love with effects, he hates the human race, etc., are old sawhorses that never had a leg to stand on in the first place.
Also tired of: Wes Anderson is “twee”, Altman “makes fun of his characters”, Truffaut is “sentimental”, Cassavetes “indulgent”– none of these has any basis in the actual films but gets repeated ad naseum as a way to dismiss great and important filmmakers.
I know I’m a bit late, but I just wanted to chime in with support for Duck, You Sucker. I for years was under the impression that it’s a tossed-off oddity, but upon seeing it a few months back, I was flabbergasted by it. It doesn’t feel as polished as the others, but it absolutely deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as his masterpieces. It’s probably my third favorite film of his after Good the Bad and the Ugly and once Upon a Time in the west (the order of those two change frequently). It’s scope may not be as big as Once Upon a time in America (hell- what film’s is?), but I think the performances by Steiger and Coburn make up for a lot of it, whereas I think that DeNiro is a toll on OUATIA. I frankly am quickly bored of DeNiro in his vacant intensity mode.