The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.
Okay, let me first admit that I wasn't going to watch it. Despite my recent addiction to all things taking place in the USA from 1860 to around 1900 (ie...Westerns)...I knew that spaghetti westerns were a bit different, more graphic, etc. I wasn't really all that interested, to be honest.
But I'm a curious critter. And I had exhausted most of the American-made westerns I wanted to see. And...I mean...it's Clint Eastwood.
So I borrowed it from some friends and gave it a good, honest watch this evening.
I'll further admit that the first hour and a half were underwhelming. I mean, I was tracking with it, but I was still getting used to the overdubbing and the fact that Eli Wallach is the REAL main character of the movie (sorry, Clint...Eli gets WAY more screen time).
But then? Ah, then. Around the point that Tuco and Blondie get taken to the prison camp and Angel Eyes is posing as a Union sergeant...then things REALLY PICKED UP. The rest of the film was fantastic. And I think I'll need to watch the beginning again, now that I know what to expect.
Don't worry. Clint is still the man.
In other news, I went to Half Price Books today. Regular readers of this blog (if I have any) may recognize that this is a bad sign. I DID spend money, yes, but not all of it was for me. A bit of it was, though. Enough for three LPs (Joni Mitchell, Cat Stevens, and Paul Simon) and a book of Old West folklore published in 1951. Yeah, I know you're jealous.
For the record...I promise that this Westerns thing will pass eventually. Also, I haven't bought a Stetson, cowboy boots, or an amazing array of handkerchief-patterned clothing. I don't listen to modern country music, on the radio or otherwise, and I don't have any overwhelming urges to start.
Phew. I had to get that off my chest.
Now, to go proudly belt "Tea for the Tillerman" at the top of my lungs. And then drink some chamomile.