365 Films
Entry #157
Once Upon A
Time In America (1984)
Directed by
Sergio Leone
Here we finally come to the completion of Sergio Leone’s second trilogy
with Once Upon A Time In America. I will completely understand the confusion for I have not
only left an enormous gap between blog entries, but I have also begun with Mr.
Leone’s final trilogy of work. It’s
sort of like starting at the end of a puzzle and then waiting a month only to
start right back up again at the end.
If that analogy works I’m going to submit it to urban dictionary so
please let me know if it does in the comments section. Magnum opus doesn’t even begin to describe
Once Upon A Time In America. It is
a film so big that it can’t even be contained in its mammoth run time of three
hours and forty-nine minutes. A recent
Cannes premiere of a four-hour plus cut only substantiates the theory that
Leone had more movie to put in this than any single movie can take. Fitting that it was his final film
because I can’t think of a better send off for this larger than life cinematic
presence. Trying to condense a
coherent series of thoughts from this film in the space of a few measly
sentences is futile at best and insulting to the work at worse. Therefore, I will attempt a sort of free
form, free associative series of thoughts and observations on the final work of
Mr. Leone and hope in some small way to at least inspire someone who stumbles
on this blog to seek it out and make a night of viewing it. In a recent conversation I had with a
friend about the film he said it simply and rather eloquently: “That movie is a
bummer. That movie bums me out.” That observation really got to the
heart of the film for me because it is so wonderfully easy to spot the
exhilarating spectacle of Leone’s filmmaking abilities. The sets, the Morricone music
(seriously one of the most moving film scores ever created), and the sweeping
scope of Leone’s camera, collectively work their hardest to indulge in the kind
of myth making he seems intent to destroy and burn to cinders. It’s a similar approach to Once Upon A
Time In The West only that film seemed to be clinging to one last vestige of
hope for the way of a certain kind of life in the old west whereas this film is
most decidedly an Eastern and one that seems to suggest the entire foundation
of this country was and always will be rotten to the core. Leone’s last three films all work as a
triptych exploration of a land that seemingly both intoxicated and repulsed the
Italian filmmaker. And the
elements that intoxicated him were more firmly situated in the fantastical
Hollywood realm of our national psyche. Once Upon A Time In America is the final attempt to wrestle
both of those contradictory impulses to the ground. Is it successful in doing so? I don’t think I’m quite equipped yet to answer that question
but what I do know is that, like a lot of the films on this blog, it’s boundary
pushing imperfections make it the awe inspiring and immortal work of art that
it is and always will be. If you’ll kindly indulge me in a bit of a rant, I
would like to make the suggestion that perfection if highly over rated. If anybody can remind me of a “perfect”
film please do so in the comments below this post. The idea has always been silly to me because everybody’s
ideas of perfection are so wildly unique and personal that it seems a moot
point to ever label a work as such.
To that extent, I also happen to find imperfect films usually more
fascinating and much more rewarding in the department of conversation ignition. Imperfect works are also always much
more indicative of their creators because human beings are by definition
imperfect so why should we ask our films, literature, or any other art form to
rise above the status of their creators.
This is not to say people should stop seeking perfection, but only that
in the pursuit of perfection does one ever push themselves beyond any standard
definition of the word and into an entirely different stratosphere. One where, in a film such as this for
example, each cut seems like the work of human hands spilling open the contents
of their brains and attempting to sort out the mess through images, music, and
dialogue. Those are the kinds of
films that always attract me and they are why I’ll always return to Once Upon A
Time In America. Even if I never
see the “complete” cut or whatever new permutation someone believes to be Leone’s
final word on the matter, I’ll always recognize that film contains everything I
love most about cinema. So forgive
me if this particular entry is entirely haphazard and completely without form
or content. I was trying to
approximate the kind of feelings that this particular film inspires. I don’t want to say it’s a kind of lost
art of filmmaking, because somebody will bring it back someday. But it makes the process of breaking it
down element by element for a casual analysis very difficult for me. I’m sure there is a plethora of great writing
out there both pro and con for the film.
I just love this film for it’s championing of the myth of America but
also its mourning of all the ways in which we, as Americans, have thoroughly
failed that myth.
