Summer in Alberta is time Stampede season, here are some thoughts about the classic revisionist western, "Once Upon a Time in the West."
It is a bit interesting to think that Sergio Leone was fundamentally misunderstood in Hollywood. Paramount released a noticeably cut version of this in 1969 to mixed reviews (a young Roger Ebert didn't seem to like it much) and an indifferent public; basically a total flop. On the other hand it was doing superhero-sized business in Europe.
The movie certainly lacks the flinty-eyed coolness of Clint Eastwood, instead we get a villainous and ice-cold Henry Fonda. The sheer coldness of this movie overall I think is a major reason why the non-fans of this can't get into it.
This is a dirty, unglamorous west, where death and destruction is always just around the corner. As Leone put it:
“You always have the feeling that every leading character, except Claudia Cardinale, could die any moment and the film is there to capture the last moments of dying men. They're playing the song of the dead on their instruments.”
The title, could just as easily be translated "Once, there was The West," After making his earlier films, Leone had no need of making another Western, but once convinced, he delivered an elegiac tale of the Wild West being tamed by the power of the Railroad and modernity.
Of course the title is evocative, along with his own later use of the phrase. It has inspired so many later directors with epic tellings of forgotten intimate tales that comment on larger themes. (Tarantino's use of the phrase is different, more like semi-ironic coolness, as is his wont.)
For someone who had brilliant composer Ennio Morricone on standby, it is also notable how many important scenes don't use music in a traditional manner. The most obvious is the famed opening of the movie. We get lots of little sound effects but no music at all; the entrance of the sound of the train a dramatic event. (The jump cut to the undercarriage of the train for the editor credit is a witty touch, there are a number of cuts which are noticeable and powerful.) The Train starts to chug away, and our short-term protagonists are leaving, until they hear that eerie harmonica. (I'm convinced an American film wouldn't have used such an abstract musical cue, but rather a recognizable tune. Morricone was trained as a "legit" composer, of course, and wrote a bunch of concert music in a experimental vein, so this obviously wouldn't bother him.)
The tragic end of the McBains is another scene which happens with no music, Leone makes the most of the dramatic entrance of music, with a big dark jangling theme under pictures of the kid; A tiny red-headed Luke Skywalker alone in the desert.
Using the moment of change from silence to music as a dramatic event itself probably has the biggest impact when after arriving on the train, and looking in vain for her husband, Jill decides to make her way alone. In a suitable black dress, Morricone's gorgeous theme for her starts playing, with its wordless vocal caressing her. She walks through the station, and the camera pans over the roof to see the somewhat bustling town of Flagstone; it is the dreamiest and most romantic bit in the entire movie.
(as an aside Leone gets the most from doing a bit of filming in Monument Valley, it has rarely looked as coldly majestic as it does here.)
This is a long movie, and it does feel long. The famous opening takes a bunch of time with people who don't measure into the plot proper at all. It really takes almost an hour to introduce the characters and the lay of the land, and we still don't really know what exactly are the questions the plot will run on. Director Leone takes time to learn about our main characters, especially since they don't all talk much. We really get sucked into the atmosphere, the dirt, the lack of agency against powerful forces.
Leone also takes time to show us some Native Americans already put out out of their land and way of life, and some of the desperate Chinese people who build the Railroad.
As for our main characters, Jason Robards' Cheyenne is the most interesting, he has the most to say, and is an outlaw that still wishes to preserve his reputation. After getting wrongly accused of the McBain massacre, he rides to the homestead to have it out with the widow, even though she despises him. While he is seemingly famous and successful at the vagabond life, seeing Jill at the homestead makes him think perhaps his life could be different. She fascinates him. (This is not all sunshine and light, he does rough her up a bit, although not to the extent of sexual coercion like Frank.) Much has been made of Henry Fonda playing against type as the villain, and his steely blue eyes do go far. Why is he so villainous? It is never made very clear. Ostensibly, he works for the railroad man Mr. Morton. Of course such a masculine fellow looks upon the crippled Morton with something just slightly better than contempt. First, his plan is to succeed Morton and become a legit kingpin himself, despite Morton's wise pronouncement that Frank is all gun.
And of course we have our man of mystery, Harmonica; No name, no background, no woman, no friends. He has Frank's number, but why?
He also becomes sexually intrigued with Jill.
His relationship with Cheyenne is interesting. I felt it was implied Harmonica doesn't have fun with shooting people; he is not playing at being a famous shootist like Cheyenne. Harmonica does seem to regard him with some interest and they increasingly work together for the benefit of Jill and the defeat of Frank, even if all of this is unspoken.
Harmonica knows that soon either Frank or he will be dead. Even with Frank's death, his life will be over metaphorically speaking. To do a good deed at this last moment, what the hell? Cheyenne joins in because of his dream of a different kind of life, and his strong belief that Harmonica is not a good match for Jill.
All of these men are smart enough to see clearly both the general situation of the west, and the particular situation of their place within it. They all feel the pull to change (improve?) but none of them are able to do so.
"I'm just a man." Frank says. The strong Valar Morghulis vibes are explicitly shown in our final scenes. Harmonica and Cheyenne leave Jill, for distinct but quite related reasons, and then come to a final understanding.
Jill is in some ways our central character, which is a bit tricky since she isn't involved in much of the plot action, or the action action. Westerns don't often have room for women, being focused on men and masculinity. There are Westerns where different kinds of masculinity are placed in opposition, although that is not exactly the case here.
Since Jill has such a large presence, it seems Leone does want to make some comment about the relationship between men and women, especially with the odd love-triangle-adjacent subplot. However the strange encounters she has separately with Cheyenne, Harmonica and Frank give the impression to many viewers that the sexual politics here are hopelessly retrograde.
After meeting Cheyenne, and alternating between righteous anger and compliance, she meets Harmonica who saves her life, but also takes the time to rip the collar off her dress, which might mean she is in full mourning as the dress is totally black, but really sexes it up by showing noticeably more of Claudia Cardinale's heaving bosom.
Later on she meets Frank, who rapes her before forcing her to sell the homestead, This is where it gets sticky, since Leone films this like a love scene, even with Fonda's weaponizing of his knowledge of her former career as a prostitute.(ugh) Then depending on your point of view, Frank is so virile and powerful she is actually into it (double ugh!) or it doesn't matter if she is into it or not because she is a whore (triple ugh)
The alternative to this is she is going along with it because she wishes to stay alive; even going back to her smaller life in New Orleans is better than dying a useless death in the pitiless West. After all she does tell Cheyenne earlier, "You can't die from it." and says after a bath she would be the same as before. The problem with this is, while she says that in righteous fury, we get no sense of that when it actually happens.
Later on Cheyenne suggests she should let men touch her, to go along to get along. (This might be one reason he wouldn't be a suitable husband and she looks in Harmonica's direction instead.) After the final defeat of Frank, we get an actual discussion of how Cheyenne wishes to be with Jill, but she is seemingly enamoured with Harmonica. It is another odd moment, especially with final Cheyenne reveal to come.
How you take all of this comes down to how you see the end of the movie.
Now it is true that Harmonica has to stop her from leaving Sweetwater near the beginning, and she does agree to sell it under Frank's coercion, but to me those are just wobbles in her steady path here. She has come to the West to start a new life; an improved life where her past will not matter. While there is danger, she does what is necessary to survive and comes out the other side. The men all die, but she abides; and triumphs even. She transcends that Virgin/Whore dichotomy to become the mother of a new town. She serves those men water for sure, but clear implication to me is that she will thrive and be treated with respect.
A couple of final thoughts:
The opening scene plays like a slightly gonzo version of High Noon, and pretty the entire movie takes classic cards from the Western deck and rearranges them. This is Leone's final commentary on the genre as much as an example of it. We get some quite choreographed shooting scenes, against realistic talking ones. We get grimy clothes and ramshackle buildings, but lots of close ups of faces against a slightly moving sky. The roving banditry and lawlessness of the west is coming to the end, but the Railroad and commercial life has its evils as well. This can be a metaphor for America; the New World was conquered with incredible results, but also incredibly tragic ones.