Eli Wallach Is My Muse
Now Playing: Sweet--"Love Is Like Oxygen"
Continuing with the spiritual experiences, I saw The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (1966) on the big screen yesterday. I'm coming to the tentative conclusion that it's my ever-elusive "favorite movie." Everyone always asks me what that is, and I never have an answer, simply telling them that I've a hundred of 'em. Sergio Leone's spaghetti western masterpiece, though (closely followed, of course, by 1972's Duck, You Sucker! with Rod Steiger and James Coburn), keeps showing up on hypothetical top ten lists (war flicks, westerns, opening shots, soundtracks, etc.), and I have to think that something's going on here.

I saw Casablanca (1942) on the big screen at the Michigan Theater, but it isn't a movie one really needs to see on the big screen. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, though, with its intense closeups and epic battle scenes, screams for the theater experience, especially the delicious opening shot. For those who've never seen it, it's basically the story of three gunslingers trying to find a missing hoard of gold in the Southwest during the Civil War. Clint Eastwood's slightly "better" than the other two (Lee Van Cleef* and Eli Wallach), but not by much, and Wallach steals the film and gets most of the best lines as the hilariously vulgar Mexican bandito "Tuco." So far as I can tell, it was his most iconic role, and one of the most lovable performances in movie history. I was on the edge of my seat throughout, laughing through most of it in affectionate recognition, but surprisingly morose during the battle that comes later in the movie. Ennio Morricone's beyond-classic score makes this a raucuous but strangely haunting experience, and easily puts this in the top ten (I'm still holding out on the number one position, but it's getting closer).

Later, I went to see the Victrolas play at the Old Town, the first time I've ever gone to hear music there. I finished more of "Attack of the Clowns," a story I promised someone I'd write, and then promised someone else (so I'm killing two birds with one stone). As with the Sari Brown show, I'd planned on not going, and then found my strategy vindicated again when I decided to go. I am one cunning bastard. I ran into Sara and her friend Dug there, and then Brandon, and then Sara and Dug's friend Jon and Nicole, and had a few beers, and chattered incessantly... you get the idea. It was a great time, though. The Victrolas were great, even though I had to leave early, and Chris Bathgate treated us to a virtuoso opening performance (I think Sara and I have decided by this point that he sounds like a much more hard-edged Nick Drake, although I still think he sounds like someone I can't quite place). That, for sure, will not be the last time I go hear a show there.

And then I worked today. Phhh. The boss came by and suggested I take a break for a couple of days at some point this month. "If you can't afford it, that's okay." Well, thanks anyhow. Phhh.

*If given the chance, check out the late Lee "Master Ninja" Van Cleef in the truly wretched Captain Apache (1971), where he's supposed to be an Apache cavalry captain (!) in the Army fighting... I don't know, corrupt railroad barons or something. Towards the end, after his courageous service for law and freedom, he's told that his people are being sent to a reservation in "Snake Valley." His reply:

"You can't do that!!!" Priceless pause. "It's full of SNAKES!!!"

Carroll Baker and Stuart Whitman are in it, too, and there's a hilarious fight scene, but there's really no other reason to watch it. Okay, I'm just showing off now.

Next day's note: One more reason to check out Captain Apache? The song over the closing credits is sung by none other than Van Cleef himself--badly. "Well, they don't call John Carradine 'The Voice' for nothin'."