A FISTFUL OF DOLLARS: 4K UHD Blu-ray (Unidis, Constantin, Jolly, Ocean, 1964/67) Kino Lorber
Great art is often controversial.
Case in point, Sergio Leone’s A Fistful of Dollars (1964), at first rejected
by Italian critics and the subject of a lawsuit after it was suggested Leone
had pilfered the entirety of its plot from Akira Kurosawa's Yojimbo (1961).
Leone, who originally scorned the allegations, was forced to settle this one
out of court, reportedly for a whopping 15% (or roughly $100,000.00 of the
worldwide receipts) Ouch! In more recent times, Leone’s inspiration has been
more clearly delineated as ‘borrowing’ from Dashiell Hammett's 1929 novel, Red
Harvest and Carlo Goldoni's 18th century play, Servant of Two
Masters in which the protagonist plays two camps against one another. As a
point of fact, there are also notable nods to John Ford’s My Darling Clementine
(1946) and George Stevens’ Shane (1953). Neither of those directors sued
Leone. As for the Italian critics, they all but blackballed A Fistful of
Dollars off the screen. American critics begged to differ – at least, some
of them. In fact, the picture was praised for its James Bond-ian ‘vigor’ and
flippant dialogue. Chiefly, the critics of the day who chose to trash Leone
were telescopically focused on how A Fistful of Dollars deviated from
the hallmarks of the traditional western. Leone’s departure into deliberate
devil-may-care sadism could hardly to be considered as pastiche or homage to
the more painterly and proud western masterworks of yore. Detractors were also
quick to illustrate Eastwood’s performance as a modern fabrication of the
gangster in cowboy’s clothing – relying almost exclusively on a manufactured, saturnine
and observed persona to sell its wares. Interesting
also, to reconsider that when A Fistful of Dollars resurfaced on
television in 1975, the network insisted on the creation of a new prologue to
explain away the cold-blooded cynicism of the character.
Originally titled, Il
Magnifico Straniero (The Magnificent Stranger) Leone’s vision for
A Fistful of Dollars always leaned to a re-envisioning of the
traditional western milieu as he believed the Hollywood derivative had veered
wildly away from its origins into rank sham and faux-piety. In Hollywood, the big
screen love affair with the western was already winding down. Worse, the genre
had lost considerable steam at home and abroad with audiences. With the passage
of time, the aegis for A Fistful of Dollars has become muddled and
difficult to trace. Sergio Corbucci has taken credit for promoting the project
to Enzo Barboni after seeing Yojimbo. Possibly. But Tonino Valerii has
held to the notion Barboni and Stelvio Massi met Leone, having just screened Kurosawa’s
masterpiece, while actor/friend, Leone Mimmo Palmara has also inferred Valerii,
having learned of the story from Barboni, was then given the opportunity to
tell Leone and his wife, Carla about his findings at a luncheon the next day.
To further cloud this origin story, Adriano Bolzoni claimed in 1978 to have seen
Yojimbo and suggested it to his friend, Franco Palaggi, who then sent
Bolzoni on a fact-finding mission with Duccio Tessari. Are we confused yet? Bolzoni then claims he
and Tessari penned a draft they gave to Leone who, impressed, nevertheless assigned
Tessari to rework most of the script. Huh?!? Enter Fernando di Leo who defends
he and Tessari wrote both A Fistful of Dollars and its sequel, For a
Few Dollars More without Luciano Vincenzoni, but with Tessari given the
lion’s share of the work. Di Leo also
inferred Leone was wholly unimpressed with Tessari’s first draft, leading to
his own involvement on the rewrites. The official production papers credit
Spanish and German writers, likely ‘fudged’ to adhere to co-production
standards in order to secure financing from both Spanish and West German
companies. Finally, there was Leone’s version. He wrote the picture himself,
based on Tessari’s treatment. What a sh#t storm!
In his pre-production phase, Leone search
for ‘the man with no name’ turned to mega star, Henry Fonda who was out of
reach as Leone’s miniscule budget would not permit the hiring of ‘a star’.
Undaunted, Leone petitioned Charles Bronson next, who turned him down, as did
Leone’s pursuit of Henry Silva, Rory Calhoun, Tony Russel, Steve Reeves, Ty
Hardin, and James Coburn. Possibly, Leone thought he had found his ‘star’ in
Richard Harrison, the American ex-pate, recently to have appeared in the very
first Italian western, Duello nel Texas. Harrison, alas, had been soured
on the experience, but did suggest a newcomer, Clint Eastwood, who would
transition from playing the proverbial ‘good guy’ on TV’s Rawhide
(1959-66) into this counterculture antihero for a new generation of filmgoers. In
later interviews, Eastwood claimed he immediately recognized how well Yojimbo
would translate into a western, acknowledging the irony of being cast in
just such a reboot only a few years later.
An Italian/German/Spanish
co-production, chaos reigned supreme on the set of A Fistful of Dollars,
exacerbated by a significant language barrier between cast and crew. Leone
spoke not a stitch of English/Eastwood, not a scrap of Italian, leaving both to
communicate through an interpreter – stuntman, Benito Stefanelli. The first of
Leone’s films to exhibit what would expediently become his auteur’s slant –
partly influenced by the pictures of John Ford, and partly by Akira Kurosawa’s
affinity for long, seemingly static takes, Leone’s verve for opera also, paved
the way for his almost Renaissance-esque lighting. This augmented his own
undercurrent of operatically grand behaviors with a truly unique rhythm and
tempo. Owing to its convenience, A Fistful of Dollars was shot silent,
its’ dialogue and effects all dubbed in afterward. In the Italian version, Eastwood
was dubbed by Enrico Maria Salerno, whose ominous interpretation conflicts with
Eastwood's cavalier and menacingly droll reading of the character. Allowed to
explore ‘the man with no name’ on his own terms, Eastwood bought his
trademarked black jeans off the rack on Hollywood Blvd., adding a hat from a
Santa Monica wardrobe firm, and cigars from a Beverly Hills smoke shop. To this
latter prop, Eastwood did not smoke, but felt the foul stench of the cigar perpetually
clenched between his teeth put his character in the proper frame of mind to be
bitter and glib. To these wardrobe concessions, Eastwood also added the more
familiar trappings of a Cobra-handled Colt, gun belt, and spurs from the Rawhide
props department. Only Eastwood’s poncho came from Spain – the one contribution
by Leone and his costume designer, Carlo Simi.
The final bits of inspired casting from
Leone’s careful preproduction were Iginio Lardani, who created the picture’s
distinctive main titles, and, Ennio Morricone’s iconic score, under the nom de plume,
Dan Savio. Leone encouraged Morricone to derive his vision from Dimitri
Tiomkin's score for El Degüello (Rio Bravo, 1959). And although
similar, Morricone actually took his cue from a lullaby he had written some
years before, re-orchestrating it in the vein of Tiomkin’s effort. Unlike most
movies, Morricone completed his score long before Leone actually shot the
picture. Leone, then fit his scenes to conform precisely to the cue, rather
than the other way around. As a promo, and never intended to be in the actual
movie, lyricist, Peter Tevis recorded lyrics to Morricone's main theme,
released via United Artists Records as ‘Restless One’ by Little Anthony
and the Imperials. Barely costing $200,000, of which $15,000 was paid to
Eastwood, A Fistful of Dollars was released in Italy in 1964. It would
be another 5 years before it found its way to the United States – time enough
to grow the picture’s reputation and appeal. By then, Eastwood had already made
the two follow-ups, For a Few Dollars More (1965), and, The Good, the
Bad and the Ugly (1966) – the trifecta of their arrival on U.S. marquees,
catapulting Clint Eastwood into virtual overnight super-stardom.
Plot wise: the first of the Leone/Eastwood
spaghetti westerns had Eastwood’s unnamed stranger arrive in the barren hamlet
of San Miguel. The town’s innkeeper, Silvanito (Pepe Calvo) informs the stranger
about a feud between two crime families vying to control the town: the Rojo
brothers - Don Miguel (Antonio Prieto), Esteban (Sieghardt Rupp)
and Ramón (Gian Maria Volonté), and another cartel, comprising
San Miguel’s sheriff, John Baxter (W. Lukschy), his
wife, Consuelo (Margherita Lozano) and their son, Antonio (Bruno Carotenuto). Devising to pit one faction against the other for a
little quick cash, the stranger also demonstrates his skills as a gunslinger to
both sides by executing the four men who insulted him when first he came riding
into town. Witnessing the Rojos massacre several Mexican soldiers escorting a
chest of gold, the stranger takes two of the deceased to the nearby cemetery, informing
the Rojos and the Baxters of their ‘arrival’, inferring they have survived the
bloody coup. In reply, both families race to the cemetery: the Rojos to silence
the witnesses, and the Baxters, to get them to testify against the Rojos. In
the ensuing gunfight, Ramón appears to murder the supposed survivors, but
Esteban takes Antonio hostage.
The stranger approaches Marisol
(Marianne Koch), a woman whose family was caught in the
crossfire to go with Ramón, while her husband, Julio (Daniel Martin) escorts
their son, Jesús home. Previously, Ramón framed Julio for cheating on a card
game, taking Marisol as his love-slave. Now, while the Rojos are celebrating,
the stranger liberates Marisol, murders the guards, and destroys the house to
suggest the place has been ransacked by the Baxters. He also provides a stipend
for Marisol and her family to get out of San Miguel with all speed. When the Rojos
learn the truth, they take the stranger as their prisoner. Although they
delight in his torture, the stranger still manages to escape. The Rojos set
fire to the Baxter’s homestead, slaughtering the entire family as they attempt
to flee. The local coffin-maker, Piripero (Joe Edger), hides
the stranger in a casket that is ushered out of town under the cover of night. Alas,
the stranger’s need for vengeance will not rest after he learns Silvanito has
become the Rojos’ latest hostage, being tortured until he confesses to his
whereabouts. Concealing a steel chest-plate under his poncho, the stranger
taunts Ramón to shoot him until he has exhausted all the rounds from his Winchester
rifle. Shooting the weapon from Ramón's hand, the stranger also murders Don
Miguel, Rubio (Benny Reeves) and the Rojo’s remaining entourage
before shooting down Silvanito, who has been hanged by his hands. Challenging Ramón
to reload his rifle faster than he can likewise his own revolver, the stranger proves
he is faster on the draw. The cowardly Esteban takes dead aim at the stranger
from behind, but is mercilessly executed by Silvanito instead. The stranger
departs, with gratitude extended to Silvanito and Piripero.
Shot entirely in Spain, to take
full advantage of its cheap labor and tax credits, A Fistful of Dollars
immensely benefited from the stark landscapes near Hoyo de Manzanares, just
outside of Madrid and, in Cabo de Gata-Níjar Natural Park in the province of
Almería. When the dust finally settled on the picture – and its two sequels in
America, Leone had what he ultimately wanted and was seeking for a long time:
international renown. As for longevity…Eastwood was decidedly the big winner
here. A Fistful of Dollars gave him cache as a big-ticket box office
draw, setting him up to become one of Hollywood’s truly gifted power brokers,
and, its most enduring creative force both in front of and behind the camera.
As for the picture, while decidedly not of the caliber of The Good, the Bad
and the Ugly, time has been very good to its reputation. Eastwood’s man
with no name emerges fully formed from the outset, with a steely exterior, yet the
grave and grizzled illusion of harboring a bygone and all but forgotten
nobility, only to be unleashed when ultimately tested.
Shot in Techniscope, whose trademarked
Technicolor proprietary process yielded an extraordinary level of image
clarity, particularly in extreme close-ups, the steps to create multiple prints
over time actually contributed to very careworn images, and a general debasement
of these once immaculately curated original elements, resulting in extreme
density issues and anemic colors. Several years ago, Kino Lorber released a
standard Blu-ray derived from refurbished elements scanned and color timed in
4K. Now, we get a native 4K release, looking at least a half-century younger
than it ought. Colors are once again vibrant. Overall image clarity will
astound. Black levels reveal zero crush while grain appears indigenous to its
source for the very first time – in short, a revelation for those who have only
experienced this movie on home video. The 4K restoration was funded by the
Hollywood Foreign Press Association, employing an OCN archived at the Cineteca
di Bologna in Italy by Unidis Jolly Film S.R.L. Cinematographer, Ennio
Guarnieri supervised this color correction from a 1965 reference print as the
movie’s cinematographer, Dallamono, died in 1976. We get 2 audio tracks, DTS in
5.1 or 2.0. You decide. In both cases, dialogue is crisp and Morricone’s score
sounds marvelous. The 4K rendering only contains 2 commentaries, the first by
author, Tim Lucas, and the other by historian, Sir Christopher Frayling.
Mercifully, Kino has deigned to include the original Blu-ray version that, in
addition to these commentaries, also houses an interview with Marianne Koch, plus
Frayling’s archives – a plethora of goodies, detailing the movie’s creation
from every conceivable angle, and, with archival interviews from Eastwood and
friends of Sergio Leone, plus reflection pieces by Monte Hellman and Harry Dean
Stanton, a location featurette, outtakes, and an episode of John Badham’s Trailers
from Hell. Did I mention trailers, radio and TV spots? Must have slipped my
mind. Bottom line: Even for those who already own Kino’s exemplary Blu-ray
edition, this new 4K release is a revelation. A Fistful of Dollars in
native 4K has never looked more pristine and film-like on home video. Buy
today/treasure forever.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
4.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
5+
EXTRAS
5+
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