Sergio Leone stole the plot from a Kurasawa movie made in 1961 for his 1964 opus, A Fistful of Dollars.
Clint Eastwood starred, the film helped boost his carreer tenfold.
The film was also one of three movies that created the genre spaggetti westerns.
The first two movies are an enjoyable watch, if you enjoy westerns.
For a Few Dollars More takes place after A Fistful of Dollars. There is a reference to the events that take place in a Fistful by way of photograph, when Colonel Douglas Mortimer is researching the mysterious man called Monco.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is in fact a prequel to the previous two movies. The evidence for this follows thusly: Colonel Mortimer's character fought in the Civil war, he implies that the war has been over for at least a few years in For a Few Dollars More.
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly takes place during the Civil War.
Eastwoods character "The Man with No Name" wears a poncho during the first two films, but in the last film he doesn't have the poncho until the end. In fact there is a scene of him taking it in a ruined shack where a soldier had just died and putting it on.
With that in mind, one wonders what happened to all the money that Eastwoods character had between the last film (which is first chronologically) and the first film (which is second chronologically).
Something to ponder?
Not really but it's fun.
Glad to see you posting again Erica.
Deane, thanks for sharing that was lovely.
Frustrated anger.
That's what I'm feeling today, that's what I've been feeling for the past couple of weeks.
Vegas was a nice reprieve from this feeling.
Anxiety, nervousness, calm, and happiness: these were the feelings of Vegas. It was a joyful good time.
Thanks to Joel and Teej for putting up with Tom and I for three crazy days. I feel more at ease crashing with you guys than I do with many of my relatives.
Thanks to JayC, Erik and Gen for doing such a great job with the play.
Thanks to Erica for bringing a smile to my face, you make me happy.
Thanks to Deanne for being willing to stay up until six thirty in the morning and converse, you're freakin' awesome.
But it's back to frustrated anger for me.
I know why I'm feeling it.
But the explaination is long... and perhaps boring.
Let's just chalk it up to sentimentality.
That's a pretty good word for it.
It's getting warm up here in Logan, might reach 90 degrees today. I would complain about the heat... but then I think of Vegas.
There's nothing worse than having to justify your religious differences to people. It shouldn't have to be. Of course most have it easy next to Bonhoeffer.
The mind has it.
Submitted for your approval:
Our hero: A giant bear of a man, with the body hair to support that size. He is some time's witty, always in his own world, typically blunt and too the point. He is a moocher, but not enough to let those whom he mooches from detest him. His power: he's not quite sure, but he is certain he has one. His flaw, falling in love with women that he knows he never has a shot with, typically of the religious variety, or the already taken variety, sometimes both (when he's feeling sure of his uncommitment to settle down). What makes him angry? Losing friends, either through stupid actions, or in-action.
His quest: To find that moment of bliss, whatever, and whereever it is.
His tactics: Blowing shit up in the recesses of his mind.
His Successes: A few.
His failures: More than he cares to count.
His Vices: Blowing shit up in the recesses of his mind, and flagelleting dead chickens.
His special move: The Dance of seduction, which has yet to work.
His Weakness: Uh... naked ladies, and food, and pigeon poop (just like kryptonite).
