Review: Peter Hanley’s book on The Good, the Bad and the Ugly – prepare to be overwhelmed.
Sergio Leone’s epic western The
Good, the Bad and the Ugly has become something of milestone in terms of its
cultural following. For fans, it is a film that doesn’t tend to gather dust on
the shelf, there is something magnetic about its pull, something that
practically demands an annual revisiting. It is an ‘experience’ that must be
seen on the big screen should anyone be afforded the opportunity. Viewing it at
home, even with the benefit of a large high definition screen and a Blu-ray,
only serves as a reminder of its genuine widescreen theatrical splendour.
In fact, ‘splendour’ is a
perfectly befitting term to describe Peter Hanley’s long awaited and long
anticipated book ‘Behind the scenes of Sergio Leone’s The Good, the Bad and the
Ugly’. It’s all too easy to perhaps take a bias opinion of this book. As a fan of
its star, its director and the film as a whole, one’s perspective has to remain
objective. A step back is perhaps required before ever thinking of stepping
forward. However, when a book of such immense quality arrives, it doesn’t take
more than 4 or 5 pages before it becomes all consuming. Its presentation is
nothing less than momentous, while its content possesses the rare ability to simply
take your breath away.
Objective? Impartial? Hell no, let’s
be clear from the outset, this is a book that was born to be loved…
It is practically impossible to
initially avoid the wealth of archival pictures that appear in Hanley’s
extraordinary book, so don’t even try. As a fan, I thought I had pretty much seen
the majority of the movie related images, but each page seemingly revealed
something startling and new. Before you know it, you are compelled and the
irresistible urge of rapid page turning becomes inevitable. Browsing through it
from beginning to end is perhaps the suggested rule of thumb. You owe it to
yourself. After all, this book has been a long time coming. Uphold the initial guilt;
indeed guzzle upon its visual splendour before savouring it again with more subtle
sips. The book’s illustrative plates are quite exquisite and immediately you
realise the author’s decision to make this a large format book is perfectly
justified. There’s simply no better way of displaying these visual delights. It
should also be noted that this book makes additional good use in presenting
some incredibly rare photos from both Fistful of Dollars and For a few Dollars
more.
After satisfying the reader’s
initial gluttonous tendencies, and turning towards Henley’s in-depth analysis
and research, it becomes rather obvious where the time has been spent. The sheer
magnitude and breadth of content is simply astounding. Every element of the
film’s production is examined in fine detail. Henley’s layout is based upon
simple chapters dividing key elements of production. Starting with its
historical background, the author takes us through the principal and supporting
actors, art direction, cinematography, music score, deleted scenes and just
about every other aspect of the film’s production. Henley’s interviews provide
an incredible wealth of information. Co-stars such as Aldo Sanbrell (who
appeared as one of Angel eyes’ gang) and Frank Brana, who was one of the
killers from the opening sequence (and also starred in ‘Fistful of Dollars’ and
‘For a few Dollars More’) are among many who recollect their thoughts and their
unique perspective of Leone. The deleted scenes chapter is excellent and explored deeper than ever before in terms of analysis.
The Blondie/prostitute scene is
perhaps nothing new to serious admirers of the film; furthermore we have all
seen at least one or two images that we might believe to be the only surviving evidence
from the lost scene. However, Henley not only provides a vast variation of onset
photos, but also tracks down the actress Silvana Bacci who provides some fascinating
insights. There are even full page reproductions of her original contracts;
such is the extent of the author’s commitment to detail.
Leone’s visual style
is also examined thoroughly through art direction (Carlo Simi), and assistant
directors Fabrizio Gianni and Giancarlo Santi – all of which again provide an entirely
new level of detail.
In addition to the incredible
photographs, the book is generously woven with various forms of memorabilia including
posters and Lobby cards. But again, it doesn’t stop there, with detail stretching
far and beyond the expected norms. Looking at the original Italian fotobusta
and the generic artwork that surrounds the central image, Henley manages to link
its original source to that of the lithograph title page of the 1866 Book of
the War! It’s just one of several extraordinary examples in relation to the
depth and detail that has been so lovingly applied to Henley’s pages.
On reflection, I was left with a feeling of minor sadness in that two of the three principal actors are no longer here
to appreciate this book and the amazing work which has gone into its production.
It is a book that should be truly respected. It’s also a cherished insight. The
dedicated chapter on Leone is almost reflective of a privileged browse through
a family album. With Leone’s wife and children accompanying him on location or
Eastwood drinking wine during an impromptu (Italy v Spain) crew game of
football, it’s all just very intimate and very special. Fans of the film, the genre,
the actor or director will adore every page of this book.
Now, if someone would only apply
the same degree of dedication and analysis to a book on Siegel’s Dirty Harry…
No comments:
Post a Comment