This movie has so much---stunning scenery, a great cast, tight writing, economic plot, and haunting music---and it takes its time to unfold its tale of stark vengeance and redemption. This is unmistakably and indelibly a Sergio Leone vision. One could imagine that Clint Eastwood was first offered the role of Harmonica, the avenger, and then it went to Charles Bronson. Perhaps he wasn't, as Bronson was superb as the Everyman hero/possible avenging angel character; he projected a subtle sorrow in his piercing eyes, even his body language, that made him perfect for the role.
The plot is multilayered, revolving around a lovely widow (Claudia Cardinale) of a shrewd man named Brett McBain, who is brutally murdered along with his family by the railroad's hired guns while she is enroute to join them at their home in Sweetwater. Her property is what is coveted and it becomes Harmonica's bait to settle an old score with the railroad's chief hired gun, Frank, who is shockingly revealed to be played by wholesome Henry Fonda. His clear blue eyes, so apparently innocent-looking, become frightening in their lack of human emotions. Frank kills without remorse whatever it befalls him to kill as casually as flicking a leaf off his sleeve. Human life is meaningless to him, even more so than to his tubercular cancer-ridden boss Morton. At least he has a motive (greed) to explain his hubris; Frank evidently needs no such excuse and kills because it's what he was born to do.
Another character is brought into the tense mix, a bountied outlaw named Cheyenne, appealingly played by Jason Robards. He is also a killer, but one with a sense of humor and a kind streak, as well as a soft spot in his heart for pretty women. He and Harmonica form a strange alliance against Frank and the railroad, which Cheyenne sees as a threat to his way of outlaw life. At the same time, he becomes friendly with the widow Jill, who in turn is oddly drawn to Harmonica. When Cheyenne realizes this, he utters his famous line: "There's something inside a man like that... something about death." It is discovered that McBain bought a substantial amount of property and had planned to build a railroad station. He had everything legally in place to build the station but if it isn't finished by the time the railroad reaches Sweetwater, his heir forfeits the right to build it and even to keep the land. Harmonica uncovers the motive for McBain's murder and finds the means to prevent McBain's dream from failing by making Cheyenne's gang build it.
Frank, who is usually so icily carefree about death and those who stalk him, grows more obsessed with finding out who Harmonica is, since every time he asks him, the enigmatic drifter keeps answering by naming off men that Frank has killed. Everything comes apart for Morton and Frank as the killer begins to slowly but relentlessly unravel, with vague flashbacks rising as to who Harmonica might be. They, however, keep his past shrouded sufficiently so that Frank cannot quite close this maddening chapter in his life by just gunning down Harmonica and being done with him.
At last, Frank is mortally wounded in the climatic gun duel by Harmonica, who mysteriously is less fazed by what should also be a mortal wound, leading to the speculation that Harmonica is more than he appears to be. Placing his harmonica to Frank's dying lips where his weakening breath wheezes out a few ragged discordant notes, Harmonica watches as recognition dawns and his past is finally realized by Frank. He had sadistically stood a man upon his younger brother's shoulders with a noose around his victim's neck, then shoved a harmonica into the boy's lips. Easing back to watch for the moment when the younger man's legs would finally give out and his brother would hang, Frank is smiling with cold pleasure at his handiwork. It is at that point that the older brother cursed his killer and kicked the boy out from under him, thus alleviating the responsibility placed on Harmonica to keep him alive.
But this sequence, though gratifying from a vengeance point, does not answer the question about Harmonica's mysterious knowledge about Frank's victims or his apparent ability to shake off a serious wound with little effect. That combined with Harmonica's penchant to be in the right place at the right time, to stand outside of events while at times controlling them, gives his character a dimension that disconnects him from temporal events. He becomes at those moments like a mysterious angel of death.
Every actor was wonderful in his role, from Claudia Cardinale to Jason Robards, but the two principals were outstanding. Fonda, renowned for playing good guys, turned his reputation as an actor completely around with his flawless portrayal of the vicious and heartless killer, Frank. His foil, played to understated perfection by Charles Bronson, was the reluctant vigilante, the man consumed with revenge for his brother's murder, and yet not merely that. Bronson projected from Harmonica a deep and inexplicable sadness that permeated his words, appearance and actions.
This was not Leone's choice for a movie. He had abandoned the spaghetti Western concept after the Clint Eastwood films, but was persuaded to take on this project. It did not fare well at the box office, which is no surprise considering its length of almost three hours. A great pity, as it is often overlooked by fans of the spaghetti Western genre for both its lack of commercial success, and for committing the unforgivable sin of not having Eastwood in the lead. It is a great film and works on many levels; in some ways, it is the distillation and the perfection of the SW genre even as it closed it out for good.
The plot is multilayered, revolving around a lovely widow (Claudia Cardinale) of a shrewd man named Brett McBain, who is brutally murdered along with his family by the railroad's hired guns while she is enroute to join them at their home in Sweetwater. Her property is what is coveted and it becomes Harmonica's bait to settle an old score with the railroad's chief hired gun, Frank, who is shockingly revealed to be played by wholesome Henry Fonda. His clear blue eyes, so apparently innocent-looking, become frightening in their lack of human emotions. Frank kills without remorse whatever it befalls him to kill as casually as flicking a leaf off his sleeve. Human life is meaningless to him, even more so than to his tubercular cancer-ridden boss Morton. At least he has a motive (greed) to explain his hubris; Frank evidently needs no such excuse and kills because it's what he was born to do.
Another character is brought into the tense mix, a bountied outlaw named Cheyenne, appealingly played by Jason Robards. He is also a killer, but one with a sense of humor and a kind streak, as well as a soft spot in his heart for pretty women. He and Harmonica form a strange alliance against Frank and the railroad, which Cheyenne sees as a threat to his way of outlaw life. At the same time, he becomes friendly with the widow Jill, who in turn is oddly drawn to Harmonica. When Cheyenne realizes this, he utters his famous line: "There's something inside a man like that... something about death." It is discovered that McBain bought a substantial amount of property and had planned to build a railroad station. He had everything legally in place to build the station but if it isn't finished by the time the railroad reaches Sweetwater, his heir forfeits the right to build it and even to keep the land. Harmonica uncovers the motive for McBain's murder and finds the means to prevent McBain's dream from failing by making Cheyenne's gang build it.
Frank, who is usually so icily carefree about death and those who stalk him, grows more obsessed with finding out who Harmonica is, since every time he asks him, the enigmatic drifter keeps answering by naming off men that Frank has killed. Everything comes apart for Morton and Frank as the killer begins to slowly but relentlessly unravel, with vague flashbacks rising as to who Harmonica might be. They, however, keep his past shrouded sufficiently so that Frank cannot quite close this maddening chapter in his life by just gunning down Harmonica and being done with him.
At last, Frank is mortally wounded in the climatic gun duel by Harmonica, who mysteriously is less fazed by what should also be a mortal wound, leading to the speculation that Harmonica is more than he appears to be. Placing his harmonica to Frank's dying lips where his weakening breath wheezes out a few ragged discordant notes, Harmonica watches as recognition dawns and his past is finally realized by Frank. He had sadistically stood a man upon his younger brother's shoulders with a noose around his victim's neck, then shoved a harmonica into the boy's lips. Easing back to watch for the moment when the younger man's legs would finally give out and his brother would hang, Frank is smiling with cold pleasure at his handiwork. It is at that point that the older brother cursed his killer and kicked the boy out from under him, thus alleviating the responsibility placed on Harmonica to keep him alive.
But this sequence, though gratifying from a vengeance point, does not answer the question about Harmonica's mysterious knowledge about Frank's victims or his apparent ability to shake off a serious wound with little effect. That combined with Harmonica's penchant to be in the right place at the right time, to stand outside of events while at times controlling them, gives his character a dimension that disconnects him from temporal events. He becomes at those moments like a mysterious angel of death.
Every actor was wonderful in his role, from Claudia Cardinale to Jason Robards, but the two principals were outstanding. Fonda, renowned for playing good guys, turned his reputation as an actor completely around with his flawless portrayal of the vicious and heartless killer, Frank. His foil, played to understated perfection by Charles Bronson, was the reluctant vigilante, the man consumed with revenge for his brother's murder, and yet not merely that. Bronson projected from Harmonica a deep and inexplicable sadness that permeated his words, appearance and actions.
This was not Leone's choice for a movie. He had abandoned the spaghetti Western concept after the Clint Eastwood films, but was persuaded to take on this project. It did not fare well at the box office, which is no surprise considering its length of almost three hours. A great pity, as it is often overlooked by fans of the spaghetti Western genre for both its lack of commercial success, and for committing the unforgivable sin of not having Eastwood in the lead. It is a great film and works on many levels; in some ways, it is the distillation and the perfection of the SW genre even as it closed it out for good.