Charles Bronson Stages a Breakout

Charles Bronson as Colton.

When her husband is framed for murder (by his grandfather, no less!) and tossed into a Mexican prison, Ann Wagner (Jill Ireland) becomes determined to free her man. She engages a border bush pilot named Colton (Charles Bronson) to fly her husband to freedom, but his first attempt fails miserably. Colton's second rescue scheme involves disguising his partner (Randy Quaid) as a prostitute. As you can imagine, that's unsuccessful as well. 

By this time, Ann is considering other alternatives. However, the rugged Colton has developed a soft spot for the grieving wife. He promises to come up with a foolproof plan, which is contingent on acquiring and learning to fly a helicopter.

Jill Ireland as Ann.

Breakout (1975) is an oddball Bronson action film that's pretty light on action scenes. The star seems to be having fun as the play-it-as-it-goes hero. It was, no doubt, an enjoyable change-of-pace for Bronson after appearing in Death Wish the previous year. 

However, this is the kind of movie that depends heavily on colorful supporting characters and this is where Breakout comes up short. Jill Ireland and Robert Duvall (as the husband) are saddled with poorly-developed roles. The audience has little invested interest in Duvall's escape because his American businessman is a blank slate. Ireland fares slightly better just because she has more screen time. Strangely, she and Bronson don't have much chemistry in their scenes--even though they were married in real life (their best film together is the 1976 Western satire From Noon Till Three).

Sheere North.

There are some bright spots in the supporting cast. A young Randy Quaid is amusing as Bronson's sidekick, but he's relegated to the sidelines for most of the film. Sheree North shines as a former Bronson crony who rejoins the "team." It's the kind of tough, sexy role that Angie Dickinson played so well during her later career. 

Eliot Asinof (Eight Men Out) co-wrote the screenplay, which was based on his nonfiction book The 10-Second Jailbreak: The Helicopter Escape of Joel David Kaplan. It told the story of an American imprisoned in Mexico whose sister financed a daring helicopter rescue. (Incidentally, Breakout was filmed in France instead of Mexico.)

Breakout did play an important role in cinema history. It was one of the first studio films to employ a nationwide release strategy, opening with1,325 prints in distribution simultaneously. Prior to the 1970s, movies--with a handful of exceptions--were released to a few hundred theaters at one time, typically playing in large cities weeks before opening in smaller markets. Following Breakout's successful rollout, Jaws employed a similar mass marketing strategy--and that became the accepted norm for distributing major motion pictures.

Charles Bronson Seeks The Stone Killer

Charles Bronson as Torrey.

Made two years after Dirty Harry (1971), The Stone Killer stars Charles Bronson as a Harry clone named Lou Torrey. After being suspended for his violent behavior, police detective Torrey transfers from New York City to Los Angeles. After two quiet years, Torrey arrests a former mob hitman who warns that "something big" is about to happen. Torrey expresses little interest until the retired mobster is assassinated at an airport by a professional killer.

As Torrey investigates the case, he learns that Vietnam veterans are being recruited and trained to execute a series of mass killings. But who are the targets and who is behind this nefarious plan? And how is it linked to a series of mob killings that took place in 1931?

An interesting plot and a cast peppered with familiar faces highlight this middle-of-the-road gritty crime drama. The former can be credited to John Gardner, who wrote the source novel A Complete State of Death (a line uttered by Bronson in the movie).

Bronson is adequate as the lead, though there's no depth to his character. An opening scene reveals that Torrey is divorced and has an estranged daughter--but she appears to have been written out of the rest of the screenplay. 

Balsam heads the supporting cast.

Fortunately, the supporting cast include a bevy of seasoned veterans, such as: Norman Fell as Bronson's boss; Martin Balsam as a Sicilian crime boss; Stuart Margolin as a mercenary; Alfred Ryder as a mob gunman; and Ralph Waite as a lousy excuse for a police detective. Waite appears in one of the best scenes. When Torrey hops in a police car to chase a baddie, Waite's stranded detective calls headquarters to find out if he has to pay for a taxi back to the station or whether he can claim it as a business expense. Discerning viewers might also recognize a young John Ritter (yes, appearing in a film with Norman Fell three years before Three's Company).

Director Michael Winner, who teamed with Bronson frequently, heightens the action with a nifty downtown chase scene involving a car and a motorcycle. It's one of those crazy sequences in which a police car plows through a street market and crashes through a showroom window. One can only imagine the number of lawsuits subsequently filed against the city! There's also a decent shoot-out at a desert training facility and a better one inside a parking garage (though it's hard to tell the good guys from the baddies).

The Stone Killer doesn't rank with the decade's best crime dramas (e.g., The Taking of Pelham One Two Three) nor is it even the best collaboration between Bronson and Winner (that'd be Death Wish). However, it's an easily watchable action film with a good cast and a crisp, exciting plot. For the record, the title is mob slang for a professional killer.

Master of the World, or 6,000 Feet in the Air

Vincent Price as Robur.

Jules Verne was a hot property in the late 1950s and 1960s, with movie theaters filled with big-budget adaptations of Around the World in 80 Days (1956), Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959), and Mysterious Island (1961). So, it was inevitable that American International Pictures (AIP) would mount its own Verne extravaganza in 1961 starring Vincent Price. As AIP movies go, Master of the World was a classier effort than usual with a literate script by Richard Matheson and decent special effects.

Set in 1868, it opens with the "eruption" of The Great Eyrie mountain in a small Pennsylvania town. John Strock, an agent for the Department of Interior, enlists the aid of two balloonists to investigate the mysterious incident (townsfolk also reported hearing the "voice of God"). As their balloon nears the mountain's crater, it is seemingly shot down from the sky and crashes. 

Strock (Charles Bronson) and the others awaken aboard a flying fortress called The Albatross. The ship's commander is a pacifist called Robur (Vincent Price), who is willing to employ violence to bring peace to the world. He makes his intentions clear when--after warning a battleship to disarm--he destroys the ship and its crew. Can Strock stop Robur before others die in his path of destruction?

The flying fortress Albatross.

Although based on two Verne novels, Robur the Conqueror and its sequel Master of the World, Matheson's screenplay bears more than a passing resemblance to Disney's 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954). Both Robur and Captain Nemo want to end war, both live in fantastic vessels, and are threatened by survivors that they take aboard (portrayed by Bronson and Kirk Douglas, respectively). Whereas 20,000 Leagues employed a sea lion for comic relief, Master of the World uses a French chef!

Also, while Disney's film was a technological marvel for its time, Master of the World has to make do with a modest budget. The special effects range from serviceable (e.g, the Albatross) to woeful (e.g., the flat painting of The Great Erie). Obvious stock footage, mostly from The Four Feathers (1939), is used extensively.

Charles Bronson as the hero.

Vincent Price carries the film with his authoritative presence, whether playing the proud host to his guests or threatening war to end war. Bronson looks bored as the hero, but frankly it's not a well-written part. The rest of the cast includes Henry Hull as a balloonist (and arms manufacturer), Mary Webster as his adult daughter, and David Frankham as her hot-headed fiancé.

AIP considered making a Master of the World sequel at one point. Pre-production artwork exists for a movie titled Stratofin, which would have given Robur a new fantastical ship called The Terror. Alas, the idea was abandoned and we're left with this one and only outing with The Albatross.

Master of the World played frequently on local channels when I was a kid in the late 1960s and early 1970s. I hadn't seen for many years, though, until it popped up recently on a cable channel called ScreenPix.

Book Review: Opening Wednesday at a Theater or Drive-In Near You

Subtitled The Shadow Cinema of the American '70s, Charles Taylor's new book contains sharply-written essays on fourteen "B" classics from what he calls "the third--and, to date, last--great period in American movies." I'll just say upfront that any book that praises Walter Hill's under-appreciated Depressive-era drama Hard Times is going to get a good review from me.

In his introduction to these films, Taylor points out that, unlike the blockbusters that dominate today's screens, these 1970s pictures captured the "small towns, gas stations, and two-lane highways" (e.g., Vanishing Point, Two Lane Blacktop) and the "seamy views of American cities" (e.g., Prime Cut, Hickey & Boggs). There's a genuine grittiness in these pictures, almost as if one can feel the grain on the film stock.

Lee Marvin in Prime Cut.

Taylor's best essays focus on movies featuring two of the most iconic stars of their era: Lee Marvin and Charles Bronson. In Prime Cut (1972), Marvin plays a Chicago mobster sent to the Midwest to settle a debt. The joke, notes Taylor, is that a "big-city mob enforcer is in much more danger in the Kansas City heartland than any Kansan would be in Chicago." The film's real villain is a slaughterhouse owner named "Mary Ann" (Gene Hackman), who sells women and makes sausage out of his enemies. Yet, these atrocities are performed against a backdrop of "county fairs...amber waves of grain, (and) white clapboard houses in the beautiful countryside." Prime Cut is not an easy film to watch, but Taylor makes a convincing case that it's a film true to its convictions and characters.

Bronson in Hard Times.

In Hard Times (1975), Charles Bronson plays a Depression-era drifter in New Orleans who earns money by participating in bareknuckle fights arranged by small-time hustler James Coburn. Taylor not only recognizes Hard Times as a quietly efficient "beautifully directed film," he also sings the praises of the underrated Charles Bronson. He notes: "Throughout his film career, Bronson was most at home in the realm of the stoic and the taciturn. But at least until the success of Death Wish trapped him in one vigilante role after another, he possessed an instinctive sense of how the camera magnifies gestures and changes of expression."

It's these insights that make Opening Wednesday at a Theater or Drive-In Near You a quick, absorbing read. Some of the other films reviewed include: Foxy Brown and Coffy (a Pam Grier double-feature!), American Hot Wax, Ulzana's Raid, Winter Kills, and Eyes of Laura Mars.

Opening Wednesday at a Theater or Drive-In Near You: The Shadow Cinema of the American '70s is 199 pages and contains no photos. It was published by Bloomsbury USA, which provided a courtesy copy for this review.

Breakheart Pass: Murder on the Western Express

A murder mystery set aboard a train cruising through snow-covered mountains? Add Charles Bronson and an Old West setting and you've got Breakheart Pass. As discussed previously at this blog, I'm a big fan of mixed genres and, in particular, the Western mystery (see 5 Card Stud). This 1975 adaptation of Alastair MacLean's 1974 novel proved to be one of Charles Bronson's better 1970s films and has aged surprisingly well.

Bronson as the outlaw Deakin.

Bronson plays John Deakin, a minor outlaw who's arrested by a federal marshal (Ben Johnson) after cheating at cards in a tiny mining town. The marshal plans to transport Deakin to Fort Humboldt aboard a military train carrying a physician and medical supplies to the diphtheria-infected post. Odd things start happening before the train even departs. Two officers, tasked with decoding a message for the governor (Richard Crenna), disappear without a trace.

Once the train heads toward the snowy peaks, the plot thickens when the physician turns up dead. Deakin, a former lecturer on medicine, recognizes foul play when he sees it: "It's hard to believe, Major, we have a killer aboard." The audience also learns that there is no diphtheria at Fort Humboldt. Instead, a notorious outlaw has taken over the military post and plans to link up with a renegade band of Paiute Indians and attack the train.

Jill Ireland as the only woman aboard.

Breakheart Pass is one of those films that doesn't give you time to process the narrative. That's a good thing, because the plot--once it's fully unveiled--doesn't withstand close scrutiny. Deakin's presence aboard the train ultimately doesn't make any sense and the same applies to the governor's fiancee portrayed by Jill Ireland (Mrs. Bronson). Additionally, those viewers familiar with Alastair MacLean's earlier works, particularly Ice Station Zebra and Where Eagles Dare, will recognize some of the author's recycled plot twists.

Nothing of that matters, though, as Bronson's Deakin works to expose the killer, clashes with Archie Moore atop the speeding train, and participates in a wild climatic shoot-out. Hercule Poirot had a much easier time aboard the Orient Express!

Ben Johnson as the marshal.

Bronson is well cast as the sardonic hero. It's a less violent variation of the kind of roles that made him an international star in the early 1970s. The supporting cast is peppered by veteran character actors like Crenna, Johnson, Charles Durning, David Huddleston, and Ed Lauter. Look quick and you might spot future Oscar nominee Sally Kirkland and former Minnesota Vikings quarterback Joe Kapp.

One of my favorite stories about Breakheart Pass is from Roger Ebert's book Awake in the Dark. He describes the famous Swedish director Ingmar Bergman's visit to the film's set:

BERGMAN (to BRONSON):  Please explain to me what you're doing.

BRONSON:  Well, this is a scene where I get shot. So I'm wearing these squibs with fake blood under my shirt, and--but you know all this stuff. You're a director.

BERGMAN:  No, no. Please continue. This is all new to me.

BRONSON:  You mean you don't use guns in your pictures?

Jubal: Shakespeare and Male Bonding in the Old West

This post is part of the Build-Your-Own Blogathon, hosted by the Classic Film & TV Cafe. To view the full blogathon schedule, click here.

Rod Steiger and Glenn Ford in Jubal.

Glenn Ford and director Delmer Daves collaborated on three Westerns made between 1956 and 1958. A common theme connecting this unofficial trilogy is the formation of mutual respect and trust among men. In 3:10 to Yuma (1957), an outlaw (Ford) grows to respect the rancher (Van Heflin) guarding him as they await a train and a likely deadly shoot-out. In Cowboy (1958), a veteran trail boss (Ford) begrudgingly takes on a tenderfoot (Jack Lemmon) during a hard cattle drive. During the arduous trek, the two men grow to admire each other and an unlikely friendship forms. That brings us to the first Ford-Daves Western Jubal (1956), which may be the most complex of their collaborations.

I love how director Daves visually conveys
 the divide between Pinky and Jubal.

Ford plays Jubal Troop, a drifter rescued on a mountain road by kind-hearted rancher Shep Horgan (Ernest Borgnine). Shep offers Jubal a job as one of his ranch hands. That doesn’t sit well with disgruntled employee "Pinky" Pinkum (Rod Steiger), who tells Jubal: “Let’s get this straight, mister. As far as I’m concerned, you still stink.”

Pinky isn’t Jubal’s only problem. Shep’s beautiful wife Mae (Valerie French) takes an immediate interest in the drifter. When she confronts him during a moment alone, Jubal informs her that “we’re ending this before it begins.” She replies provocatively: “Are we?”

Pinky's dislike of Jubal turns into hatred when Shep selects the newcomer to be his new foreman. Rejected by Shep and Mae--who both prefer Jubal--Pinky seeks revenge by suggesting to Shep that Jubal and Mae are sleeping together. That lie festers into an ugly situation that eventually results in three deaths.

Jubal is loosely based on Paul I. Wellman's 1939 novel Jubal Troop. Described in The Saturday Review as "Anthony Adverse all over again," Wellman's sprawling tale traces the exploits of a man who killed his mistress' husband at age 18, romanced many women, sold stolen cattle, and made and lost a fortune in Oklahoma oil. 

Borgnine as Othello...I mean, Shep.

Drawing on a plot thread involving Shep and Mae, Daves and co-screenwriter Russell S. Hughes transform the film version into a Western variation of Othello. Shep represents the Moor general Othello, who promotes Cassio (Jubal) over Iago (Pinky). The angry Iago retaliates by suggesting to Othello that Cassio slept with Othello's new bride Desdemona (Mae). This lie leads to tragedy, just as it does in Jubal. There are significant differences, of course. Mae wants to be unfaithful with Jubal, Pinky has previously slept with Mae, and Shep doesn't kill Mae. Still, the basic elements of Othello are clearly present in Jubal--a fact which has contributed to the film's cult status among the adult Westerns of the 1950s.

Although Jubal falls in love with Naomi (Felicia Farr), a young pioneer woman, the key relationship in the film is between Jubal and Shep. As Jubal confides to Naomi, Shep is the first person since his father to show him any kindness. Shep, for his part, admires Jubal for his intelligence, but values most his trustworthiness. Indeed, when explaining why he chose Jubal over the more experienced Pinky, Shep states flatly it was because he could trust Jubal. The extent of Shep's trust becomes evident when he reveals to Jubal that he senses Mae has become distant. This is a topic the rancher would never broach with any of his other employees (least of all Pinky). So, it's no wonder that Shep goes into a blind rage when he believes that Jubal--the one person he trusted--betrayed him. 

Valerie French looking seductive as Mae.

Of course, when given the opportunity, Mae chooses not to contradict Pinky's lie. Early in the film, she confesses to Jubal that she married Shep only because she thought he was rich and lived in a "castle." In reality, the "castle" is an impressive ranch and her husband spares no extravagance on his wife. However, Mae's ambivalence toward Shep has grown into disgust fueled by self-pity. She complains to Jubal that the ranch is "ten thousand acres of nothing, ten thousand acres of loneliness." Shep doesn't help matters either. When Mae complains that her husband treats her like property, it's hard to disagree. He playfully calls her his "Canadian heifer" and clearly likes showing her off.

Charles Bronson as Reb.

The standout in the fine cast is Ernest Borgnine, who earned a Best Actor Oscar for the previous year's Marty. His multi-layered portrait of Shep shows all sides of the character: Shep's generosity, his sexist attitude toward women, his insight into the men that work for him, and his rage when he believes he has been betrayed. Glenn Ford is fine as the conflicted hero and Valerie French sizzles as Mae. Charles Bronson lends solid support in one his first major roles as another drifter that befriends Jubal.

Surprisingly, Rod Steiger seems content to repeat his performance as Jud from Oklahoma! (1955). In the biography Glenn Ford: A Life, written by the actor's son, Ford downplays the "method school of acting" made famous by Steiger, Marlon Brando, James Dean, and others. Ford said: "'Doing nothing well' is my definition of a good actor. One of the great misconceptions about this business is that you get in front of a camera and 'act.' That's the very thing you should not do. Be yourself--people need to identify with you. If they're not able to, you're in trouble."

Jubal is not the best of the Glenn Ford-Delmer Daves Westerns. That distinction belongs to the thoughtful, tense 3:10 to Yuma, which is universally recognized as one of the best Westerns of the 1950s. However, with its Shakespearean slant and its focus on the frailty of human relationships, Jubal justly deserves reevaluation and greater recognition.


The fine music score in Jubal was composed by David Raksin, who is best known for his theme from Laura. Mr. Raksin is the connection to the next film in this blogathon: The Bad and the Beautiful, which is reviewed by one of our favorite classic movie bloggers at The Lady Eve's Reel Life.

Seven Things to Know About "The Magnificent Seven"

1. The Magnificent Seven (1960) is a pretty faithful adapatation of Akira Kurosawa's classic Seven Samurai (1954)--except that the American Western is 79 minutes shorter! It does have a scene not in the original: the one where Chris (Yul Brynner) and Vin (Steve McQueen) drive the hearse to boot hill.

2. Yul Brynner was the only one of the original cast to appear in a sequel. He reprised the role of Chris for Return of the Seven (1966), which featured Robert Fuller (Laramie) as Vin. In subsequent movies, Chris was played by George Kennedy (Guns of the Magnificent Seven) and Lee Van Cleef (The Magnificent Seven Ride!).

3. Steve McQueen fidgets with his hat frequently during the film--allegedly in an attempt to draw attention to himself. He wasn't a star yet and, in fact, was still headlining the TV series Wanted: Dead or Alive.

4. Brynner was already a star, of course, but four other Seven actors went on to achieve film or television fame: McQueen, Robert Vaughn, James Coburn, and Charles Bronson. In fact, McQueen, Coburn, and Bronson reteamed for the 1963 classic The Great Escape. As for the rest of the Seven, Horst Buchholz was already considered a promising newcomer and subsequently appeared in Billy Wilder's One Two Three. That leaves Brad Dexter--who played Harry--as the odd man out. Dexter never came close to stardom, but had a long career as a supporting player; he appeared in several films with best pal Frank Sinatra.

5. In his autobiography, Eli Wallach wrote: “The one regret I had in making The Magnificent Seven was that I never heard Elmer Bernstein’s musical score while making the film. If I had heard that score, I think I would have ridden my horse differently.” Wallach originally wanted to play the Buchholz role--until he read the script and realized that the villainous Calvera was the juiciest part.

6. Elmer Bernstein's music score didn't gain fame until part of it was used in Marlboro cigarette commericials. The Philip Morris Tobacco Company licensed Bernstein's music in 1963 for a Western-themed ad campaign and the rest is history. In fact, it became widely known as the "Marlboro theme." A 1967 album was released called The Music from Marlboro Country, which included musical tracks from The Magnificent Seven and Return of the Seven.

7. Robert Vaughn appeared in two other versions of The Magnificent Seven. He played a mercenary in Battle Beyond the Stars (1977), a low-budget remake that transplanted the premise to an outer space colony harassed by John Saxon's villain. Vaughn's character was "adopted" by the colonists' children (as Bronson's character was by the peasant children in the original). Then, for the 1998-2000 CBS TV series The Magnificent Seven, Vaughn guest-starred as a judge on six episodes.

The Five Best Charles Bronson Performances

During the early 1970s, Charles Bronson was the biggest star in the world--well, pretty much everywhere except the U.S. However, he quickly attracted the attention of American studios and became a boxoffice attraction stateside with films like Death Wish, St. Ives, and Telefon. Before his unexpected international stardom, he headlined quality low-budget efforts (Machine Gun Kelly) and made memorable impressions in supporting roles in movies like The Magnificent Seven. Sure, he starred in some stinkers in the 1980s, but let's forget about those and focus on the five best starring performances from the underrated Charles Bronson:

The original Death Wish.

1. Death Wish.  Morally repugnant? No. Ethically questionable? Probably. Highly manipulative? Definitely. This 1974 controversial vigilante drama may be difficult to watch at times, but it's well-made and acted with conviction. Film critic Judith Crist noted Bronson's "superb performance" as the everyman who gradually evolves into a one-man jury. Even Rex Reed wrote: "People who are tired of being frightened, endangered and ripped-off daily in New York City are going to love Charles Bronson in Death Wish as much as I do." The less side about the Death Wish sequels, the better.

Mr. & Mrs. Bronson in From Noon Till Three.

2. From Noon Till Three. Playwright Frank D. Gilroy (The Subject Was Roses) wrote and directed this clever satire about celebrity. Bronson plays Graham Dorsey, a minor outlaw who spends an afternoon with an attractive widow (Jill Ireland--Bronson's wife). Her later account of their romantic interlude--imaginatively enhanced--spawns a bestselling book, play, and song. She becomes wealthy and he winds up in prison where no one believes that he's the famous Graham Dorsey. Bronson creates one of his best characters in Dorsey, who is equally charming and conniving. Ireland gives her best film performance.

3. Once Upon a Time in the West. Sergio Leone's Spaghetti Western masterpiece is an ensemble piece about the final days of the Old West (though, with its three-hour length, each of the four main characters get plenty of screen time). Bronson is a standout as the enigmatic Harmonica, whose motive for seeking vengeance against Henry Fonda's nasty villain isn't revealed until the film's grand showdown.

Remick on the phone in Telefon.

4. Telefon. Bronson portrays a KGB agent who teams with an American spy (Lee Remick) to uncover a network of programmed assassins--apparently normal people who turn into killers after listening to Robert Frost's poem "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening." Sounds preposterous? Perhaps, but it's immensely entertaining and Bronson hits all the right notes as the dogged pursuer with a photographic memory.

5. Hard Times. Bronson plays a drifter during the Great Depression, who meets a hustler named Speed (James Coburn) and becomes a successful bare-knucled fighter. It's a quiet Bronson performance, but he and the fast-talking Coburn (along with Strother Martin as their "cut man") make a fine team. TIME critic Jay Cocks called the film "a tidy parable about strength and honor" with Bronson's "best performance to date."

Honorable Mentions:  The Great Escape and The Magnificent Seven (two excellent films included here only because Bronson's screen time is limited); Red Sun (an international Western more fun than it has a right to be); and Breakheart Pass (a Western mystery set on a train).

A Taste of Spaghetti...Westerns

The long dusters. The dirty towns. Extreme close-ups. Lengthy stares. Dubbed dialogue. And, of course, the Morricone music. I love a good Spaghetti Western! Here are my top 10 films in this popular genre from the 1960s and 1970s.

Bronson as Harmonica.

1. Once Upon a Time in the West - I never cared for the slang term "horse opera," but "operatic" definitely describes what I consider to be Sergio Leone's masterpiece. This sprawling saga of a dying West boasts interlocking stories, some marvelous set pieces, a terrific Ennio Morricone score (with unique themes for each of the four leads), and memorable characters (which both support and defy Western film stereotypes). My favorite parts are the opening (it's a long wait but I love the payoff) and the almost over-the-top showdown between Charles Bronson's mysterious Harmonica and Henry Fonda's vile villain Frank.

Lee Van Cleef.

2. For a Few Dollars More - My favorite of the Leone-Eastwood collaborations is almost a rehearsal for Once Upon a Time in the West. In the latter film, Charles Bronson wears a harmonica around his neck--and we learn why in the flashblack that explains his need for revenge against Henry Fonda's character. In For a Few Dollars More, Lee Van Cleef carries a watch that serves the same purpose. Eastwood's sarcastic humor and Van Cleef's steely resolve make them a great pair.

It's hard to see Hill's "Paul Newman"
blue eyes in this photo.

3. Trinity Is Still My Name - The sequel to They Call Me Trinity is funnier than the original, with Terence Hill and Bud Spencer back as the West's most unlikely--and filthiest--brothers. Hill became a big European star, but his success never translated in the U.S. (though he tried in movies like March or Die with Gene Hackman). His oddball humor works very well in the Trinity Westerns, especially playing against the gruff, burly Spencer. Hill (real name Mario Girotti) and Spencer (Carlo Pedersoli) appeared as a team in numerous films, including other Spaghetti Westerns and contemporary action comedies.

There are five...count 'em!

4. The Five Man Army - I'll admit upfront that I'm a sucker for movies where someone assembles a team to accomplish a mission (e.g. The Adventures of Robin Hood, TheMagnificent Seven, The Dirty Dozen). So, here we have Peter Graves--who knows something about impossible missions--assembling a team of specialists to rob a moving train. Horror film maestro Dario Argento co-wrote it (he and Bertolucci also worked on Once Upon a Time) and Morricone contributed yet another memorable score. Plus, where else can you find James Daly and Bud Spencer in the same film?

5. Red Sun - OK, it may not technically be a Spaghetti Western, since it was made in Spain with an international cast. Also, I confess there's not much of a plot (a valuable Japanese sword is stolen and everyone goes after it). But Charles Bronson and Tohiro Mifune make a fine odd couple, Alain Delon does his patented good/bad guy, and Ursula Andress...well, she's just there. Still, it's surprisingly entertaining and holds up well.

6. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly - Most Spaghetti Western buffs probably list this in the No. 1 or No. 2 spot. I might have, too, until I watched it recently. Certainly, the cast is excellent (especially Eli Wallach) and Morricone's score is his most famous. Many critics highlight how the plot plays out against an elaborate backdrop of the Civil War. Actually, that's the part I don't like; it lengthens the film for me and detracts somewhat from the interplay between the three stars. Still, many of the battle scenes are impressive. And, yes, I know I'll take some heat for placing a classic at No. 6...

Franco Nero as Django. Note the
crosses in the background.

7. Django - The plot recalls A Fistful of Dollars (see #10), with a mysterious stranger coming between two warring factions in a small town--but the similarities end there. Religious images abound, starting with the film's protagonist dragging a coffin through the mud and ending with Django, both hands crushed, trying to balance his pistol on a cross as he awaits a graveyard showdown with a band of bad guys. It's an uneven, violent picture (banned in some countries), but the climax may be surpassed only by Once Upon a Time among Spaghetti Westerns. 

8. My Name is Nobody - Another unlikely Leone teaming: this time between Henry Fonda as a veteran gunslinger and Terrence Hill as an up-and-coming one. (Techincally, Leone did not make this film, but his influence is all over it and some sources claim he directed some scenes). More an essay on celebrity than a Western, it benefits from an offbeat sense of humor.

9. Sabata - Van Cleef made other Spaghetti Westerns (including Death Rides a Horse, which I haven't seen), but this one probably confirmed him as Eastwood's successor as a solo star. It also helped popularize the "trick weaponry" used in other Westerns (e.g., Sabata carries a pistol that fires from the handle).

10. A Fistful of Dollars - Obviously, it's my least favorite of the Leon-Eastwood films, even though it was inspired by Kurosawa's Yojimbo. Still, it's historically significant and the final shootout is a classic.

The Towering Looker from San Sebastian

I'm often surprised by what's available among the free on-demand movies offered by my cable service. Recently, I had an opportunity to revisit three films, one each from the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s: Guns for San Sebastian, The Towering Inferno, and Looker.

Guns for San Sebastian (1968) is often described as a Spaghetti Western, though it was made in Mexico and none of the four stars are Italian. But, hey, Ennio Morricone composed the score, so it sounds like a Spaghetti Western. Anthony Quinn stars as an outlaw who seeks sanctuary in a church to avoid capture. When the priest (Sam Jaffe) who protects him is exiled to a remote desert village, Quinn accompanies him. Shortly after their arrival, the priest is killed and the villagers--and bad guy Charles Bronson--mistakenly assume that Quinn is the new priest. I thought this was a spiffy premise with lots of potential, but, alas, Guns for San Sebastian squanders its opportunities and settles for being a routine action film. Quinn seems to be willing to do more with his role, especially during the film's first half. Bronson, whom I've always liked, and Jaffe are respectable, though their characters are pretty one-dimensional. As Quinn's quasi-love interest, Anjanette Comer is dreadful and appears to own an impressive stash of cosmetics for a peasant girl. Our on-demand grade: C.

Newman and McQueen discuss how
to extinguish the big blaze.

The Towering Inferno (1974) has an interesting backstory: After Irwin Allen's The Poseidon Adventure cleaned up at the box office, Warner Bros. bought the rights to The Tower, a novel about a burning skyscraper. Around the same time, 20th Century-Fox obtained the rights to The Glass Inferno, which featured a similar plot. Concerned that their competing movies would cancel each other out with moviegoers, the two studios opted to co-produce The Towering Inferno and put the film in Allen's hands. It features an all-star cast of screen vets (William Holden, Jennifer Jones, Fred Astaire), then-current stars (Paul Newman, Faye Dunaway, Steve McQueen), and even one of the The Brady Bunch kids (Mike Lookinland). It's as if The Towering Inferno wants to offer something for viewers of every age. What it lacks is a strong narrative, which is odd considering that Stirling Silliphant (The Poseidon Adventure, In the Heat of the Night) penned the script. Poseidon worked well because it focused on one group's quest to survive and featured a dynamic performance from Gene Hackman as its leader. In contrast, Inferno comes across as a series of vignettes and we never spend long enough with any of the characters to really care about their fates. There are some suspenseful sequences, especially when Newman and Holden are trying to evacuate party guests from a top floor. But, in the end, the film doesn't gel and we're left with lots of 1970s orange-colored decor and Maureen McGovern singing "We May Never Love This Way Again" (a limp variation of "The Morning After"). Believe or not, Fred Astaire--who looks mostly bored--earned his only Oscar nomination for The Towering Inferno. Our on-demand grade: B- (I like orange...and Fred)

Susan Dey and Albert Finney.

About once every ten years, I feel compelled to watch Michael Crichton's Looker (1981). When it's over, I always wonder:  Why did I waste my time watching it again? I think the problem is that I remember the premise (intriguing) and forget the execution (which is ludicrous). Albert Finney plays a plastic surgeon whose latest clients are beautiful women seeking minor facial changes so they'll look "perfect." When a couple of these women end up dead, Finney begins an investigation (while he comes under suspicion by the police). Finney's sleuthing leads to a mysterious company called Digital Matrix, a sneaky politician played by James Coburn, and something called Light Occular-Oriented Kinetic Emotive Responses (hey, it spells "looker"!). He also meets a model played by Susan Dey in the horrible period in her career between The Partridge Family and L.A. Law. She and Finney have negative chemistry! Plus, they appear to be in different kinds of movies: he's doing a serious suspense film and she's acting in a playful mystery. Ultimately, intriguing ideas are spewed all over the place and I'm never quite sure what the heck the movie is about. Sadly, though, I'll probably watch it again in about ten years. Our on-demand grade: D.

This Western Heats Up With a Red Sun

One of my favorite western movies is Red Sun. It is considered a formula Spaghetti Western that has loads of action and a simple plot. However, I think Red Sun has an interesting plot that tells the story of a friendship between two very different men who are culturally worlds apart.

The movie was made in Spain in 1971 and released in the United States a year later. With the apparent goal of attracting an international audience, the four stars were from different countries: Charles Bronson (U.S); Alain Delon (France); Ursula Andress (Switzerland); and Toshiro Mifune (Japan). Bronson had become a popular European performer by the early 1970s and had starred in several previous Westerns. Delon was known for his roles as a handsome man who often gets in trouble with the ladies. One of his most famous movies is 1960’s Plein Soleil (aka Purple Noon), which was remade as The Talented Mr. Ripley in 1999 with Matt Damon. Ursula Andress played the first Bond girl in Dr. No. Toshiro Mifune was Japan’s most well-known star, mostly due to his roles in Akira Kurosawa films like The Seven Samurai (which was remade in the U.S. as The Magnificent Seven with Bronson). Many critics consider the Jackie Chan and Owen Wilson movie, Shanghai Noon ( 2000), a spoof of Red Sun.

Director Terence Young had already scored huge hits with several James Bond movies such as: Dr. No (1962) with Ursula Andress; From Russia with Love (1963); and Thunderball (1965). He also directed The Valachi Papers in 1972 with Charles Bronson in the lead role again.

Set in the mid-19th century, Red Sun opens with a Japanese ambassador traveling by train from the Western U.S. to Washington, DC. His mission is to deliver an ancient samurai sword as a gift to the President of the U.S. The ambassador is accompanied by two samurai body guards, one of which is Toshiro Mifune who plays Kuroda. Gauche (Alain Delon), a bandit leader, and his partner Link (Bronson) rob the train. They have no idea where this train is going or who is traveling on it. After the robbery, Gauche turns on Link and tries to kill him. Then, he takes all the money and the samurai sword and kills Kuroda’s samurai friend. The Japanese ambassador tells Kuroda to find the samurai sword in seven days and return it in the same place when the train returns. If Kuroda does not retrieve the sword and kill Gauche for taking it, he will have to commit suicide because of his failure.

Link and Kuroda seek out Gauche for two different reasons. Kuroda wants to kill Gauche for taking the sword and killing his friend. Link wants to find Gauche and keep him alive until he can take him to where he has hidden the money. Link and Kuroda put their differences aside and decide to work together. These two culturally different men begin a trek to find Gauche and his hide out. While traveling together, Kuroda and Link began to respect one another. Link knows the territory and Kuroda is a worthy ally with his samurai sword. The two men form an unlikely friendship, with Link always questioning and making fun of Kuroda ,who retorts how odd he finds Americans.

Link knows that Gauche is traveling to a whorehouse to see his girlfriend Cristina, a beautiful prostitute played by Ursula Andress. Link forces Cristina to take him to Gauche’s hideout. Andress’s performance as the prostitute, who Gauche loves and spoils, is priceless. She is not only whiny, but has a very nasty temper. Cristina agrees to take Link and Kuroda to Gauche, but she escapes and goes to find Gauche herself. Unfortunately, she is quickly surrounded by Indians who want to torture her to death. What Link and Kuroda do for Cristina shows their respect and compassion for her. Link reveals that he may be a bandit, but is also a man with goodness in him.

The climax of Red Sun is not only exciting, but creatively filmed. It is one of my favorite scenes in a Western movie. The ending is a nice surprise, too. Despite its emphasis on action, Red Sun is a well-done story about the friendship between East versus West.

The film also features a memorable score by veteran film composer Maurice Jarre. He wrote quite a few impressive musical scores for film and television, winning Oscars for the following: Lawrence of Arabia (1962); Doctor Zhivago (1965); and A Passage to India (1984). My favorite of his scores is Red Sun and the title theme is on my iPod.

Charles Bronson was a man who loved horses. The horse he rides in this movie is his own. Notice the beautiful Spanish Andalusian horse that Andress rides too.

Red Sun is a hard movie to find on video and has not been released on DVD. Unfortunately, I do not own it on video, but I saw it recently on AMC. If you like Spaghetti Westerns and are a Charles Bronson fan, this is a must-see movie.

Fonda and Bronson Face Off in Leone's Masterpiece "Once Upon a Time in the West"

"Big," "epic," and "sprawling" are the words critics frequently use to describe this now-revered 1968 Spaghetti Western. Yet, despite its lengthy running time and visually massive backdrop, Once Upon a Time in the West focuses tightly on the relationships among four people over a relatively short period of time. These characters are: Frank (Henry Fonda), a ruthless gunfighter who aspires to be a powerful businessman; Cheyenne (Jason Robards), a rascally outlaw with killer instincts; Jill (Claudia Cardinale), a former prostitute in search of a more meaningful life; and a mysterious revenge-minded stranger whom Cheyenne calls Harmonica (Charles Bronson).

Each character is introduced to the accompaniment of his or her own musical theme, memorably composed by Ennio Morricone. The mood of these themes range from playful (for Cheyenne) to bold and abrupt (Frank) to sweetly old-fashioned (Jill) to eerily disturbing (Harmonica). The last theme--an almost off-key four-note piece--is often played by Bronson's character on the harmonica he wears around his neck.

In addition to the musical motifs, director Sergio Leone employs natural sounds in unique ways throughout the film. For example, the film's opening fourteen-minute sequence contains virtually no dialogue--but we hear cracking knuckles, buzzing flies, water drops plopping, birds, and a train whistle. Later, Leone introduces Cheyenne by letting us listen to a ferocious gunfight from inside a quiet desert cantina.

As in most Leone Westerns, the storyline takes a back seat to the interesting characters and overarching theme, Leone's stylish direction, and some marvelous set pieces. For the record, Jill inherits a valuable property from a husband she hardly knew. Frank, working for a railroad baron, wants the property for its future value as a railroad way station. Cheyenne takes an interest in Jill and decides to protect her.

Harmonica helps Jill and Cheyenne, but his motive is revenge against Frank. Indeed, his reason for wanting to kill Frank is a riddle that lurks in the background until their epic showdown at the film's conclusion. Then, in a concise flashback that immediately procedes the gun shots, Leone reveals the incident that fueled Harmonica’s vengeance.

Bronson and Robards give fine performances, but Henry Fonda steals the film in a great change-of-pace role as a villain who kills defenseless children and kicks out the crutches from underneath cripples. When Frank is making love to Jill, he remarks casually: “I think I might be a little sorry killing you.”

The only subpar performance is from Cardinale, who is also burndened with the least interesting character. Nevertheless, Jill is the strongest female character in any Leone Western and central to the film’s theme. Unlike the male characters, Jill is willing and able to adapt to the “New West.” Frank wants to become a businessman, for example, but he can’t change his violent ways.

Once Upon a Time in the West features one of the best openings of any Western: the aforementioned fourteen-minute sequence in which three gunfighters arrive at a train station to kill Harmonica after he unboards. They walk around the empty town and then wait and wait--and we wait with them as the credits appear slowly across on the screen. After thirteen minutes, the trains finally arrives, but Harmonica is nowhere in sight. As the train pulls out of the station and the gunfighters turn to leave, they hear Harmonica play his eerie tune. They turn around and he becomes visible on the other side of the tracks as the train rolls out of view. That leads to the following exchange:

Harmonica: "Did you bring a horse for me?"

Head Gunfighter (laughing): "Looks like we're shy one horse."

Harmonica (shaking his head): "You brought two too many."

In a flash, guns are blazing and four bodies hit the ground in a matter of seconds. It's a textbook example of how a filmmaker can manipulate his audience's perception of time and space--and it's also an incredible way to start a movie.

Amazingly, Once Upon a Time in the West flopped miserably when released in the U.S. in 1969. Part of its failure can be attributed to Paramount’s poor decision to cut thirty minutes from the film’s running time, thus rendering some of its plot incomprehensible. Still, the film did brisk business in Europe and helped make Charles Bronson an international star (ironically, Leone had tried to convince Bronson to play the Eastwood role in the earlier A Fistful of Dollars). As Leone’s status as a Spaghetti Western auteur grew in the 1970s and 1980s, Once Upon a Time in the West came to be rightfully hailed as his masterpiece.