Westworld season 2 is starting up this weekend, which means I should probably get caught up on season 1 sooner or later. In the meanwhile, here’s a good old-fashioned Western, sans crazy androids.
Sergio
Leone captures the ecstasy of filmmaking in this expansive Western opus. Much as I hate the term, this movie is
fucking iconic. It defines the essence
of the Western genre and the American Wild West, even though it was shot more or less entirely in Spain, and
large fractions of the cast are clearly speaking Italian throughout. It’s all here: expansive landscapes, tense
standoffs, and hidden loot. Clint
Eastwood might now be a crazy old coot who yells at empty chairs and directs
jingoistic garbage, but in his heyday, he was the consummate mystery man of the
West, executing every squint and cigar chomp with panache and flair. Ennio Morricone is the ultimate hype man with
his ‘Ecstasy of Gold’ theme, though he also does a masterful job of evoking
Copland-esque stirring brass chorales and searing mariachi trumpet at the same
time. And we are treated with perhaps
the best cemetery in cinematic history, in full dizzying kaleidoscopic glory.
THE RULES
PICK ONE
Select
one Western trope and drink when it occurs:
Standoff
Shootout
Fancy
horse riding.
Quick-draw
shooting.
SIP
Someone
lights, chews on, or shares a cigar.
‘Ecstasy
of Gold’ theme starts. (Maybe sing along too)
Terrifying
religious pottery.
HOW
CAN HE SLAP?
Obvious
dubbing, verbal or instrumental.
Chapped
lips.
Tuco
crosses himself.
Union
or Confederate armies are mentioned.
Blondie
clicks his tongue.
BIG DRINK
Tumbleweeds.
Angel
Eyes finishes the job.
Gun
dis/assembly.
Tuco
consults his map.
Random
fly appears onscreen.
‘Good’,
‘Bad’, or ‘Ugly’ intertitle.
LIVER TRANSPLANT WAITLIST MODE *Only for those who know the name on the
grave*
Drink
every time an intense stare-down begins.
USE YOUR WORDS, PEOPLE.
John Silver in every episode: XIX.
This crew has spilled a great deal of blood to make your name what it is. It doesn’t belong to you.
It’s a jointly held asset belonging to every man on this crew who sacrificed some part of himself to build it.
They have a say about how it is managed, and I am the voice of it.
It is clear to me that this raid was more dangerous than the last.
They are adapting, and it is of some concern to me that you either cannot or will not acknowledge it.
I understand this is all incredibly personal to you after the loss of Mrs. Barlow.
And I understand the burden of playing the role you currently play must be taking a toll even you cannot fully comprehend.
Every time I hear or read this, I am amazed by (1) how articulate (literate) he is (2) how well he knows Flint, especially the torture of “playing the role” (3)how well he knows the men and his own relationship with them. He is fully Flint’s equal, if we understand “equality” as “A is better at some things, such as fighting, killing in cold blood, opening himself” and “B is better at some other things, such as strategy, vision, lucidity”.
reblogging here because i can see this being relevant to anyone who’s ever tried to get out of an abusive relationship
Reblogging because that last comment made me reread the whole thing in a new light and realize this could be vital information. So, putting it out there for everyone, and hoping no one ever really needs it.
mici's campfire 