El Topo is a 1970 Acid Western directed by Alejandro Jodorowski.
Here’s my five-word review of El Topo:
What the fuck was that?
Thanks for reading.
In full disclosure, I chose to watch this bizarre Acid Western without subtitles – making an incredibly complex movie even more difficult to comprehend.
I’m pretty sure I could have closed my eyes and imagined the whole thing and came away with more insight.
Anyway, El Topo tells the story of a mysterious gunfighter who crosses the desert on a journey that is equal parts mystical, religious and sexual. El Topo, or “The Mole”, faces and conquers four desert masters before being left for dead by his lesbian companions. He is reborn in an underground colony of dwarves and cripples and swears off violence. He becomes a beggar before freeing the cripples and exacting vengeance on their killers.
Beyond the language barrier, the challenge of El Topo is unraveling Jodorowski’s heavy layers of disjointed symbolism. Within the movie’s first 20 minutes, El Topo’s naked son buries his teddy bear and mother’s mirror in the sand, then a variety of crazed bandits fetishize women’s shoes and simulate sex with lizards and captured monks.
American Boy: A Profile of Steven Prince is a 1978 documentary directed by Martin Scorsese.
American Boy is an extended interview with Steven Prince, who tells a variety of stories that involve his history of drug abuse. Scorsese alternates Prince’s stories with clips of his childhood to illustrate the path his life has taken.
Here’s your one-line synopsis of American Boy: Steven Prince has led a dangerous, fascinating life – much of it while high on heroin.
Prince has worked as a stagehand, gas station attendant and road manager for Neil Diamond. Along the way, he gets into acting – where he’s probably best known for playing Easy Andy, the gun salesman in Scorcese’s Taxi Driver.
The premise of American Boy is simple. Scorsese and a small crew set up at actor George Memmoli’s house and await Prince. Memmoli perfectly sets the expectations by suggesting: “how can you tell a Steven Prince story in two minutes?”
Prince emerges and is wrestled to the ground by the burly Memmoli – then the stories begin. There’s a story about a Silverback Gorilla in an apartment, caricatures of his family and getting a boat captain drunk, before the mood changes as Prince talks about a kid electrocuting himself during a performance.
Scorsese proceeds to ask the first of many questions regarding drugs. Prince recounts the first time he tried crystal meth, as a carpenter injected him. “How much did you take?” “As much as he gave me.” Scorsese and his crew are delighted with Prince’s tales and there’s a sense Prince is feeding off the energy.
Aguirre, the Wrath of God is a 1972 movie directed by Werner Herzog and starring Klaus Kinski.
Aguirre, the Wrath of God tells the story of Spanish conquistadores searching for the mythical El Dorado in Peru. Crossing the Amazon, the expedition struggles to survive against brutal conditions and hostile natives. Klaus Kinski plays Don Lope de Aguirre, who seizes control of the expedition and leads the group into chaos.
There’s a great chance Kinski is completely miscast as a 16th century Spanish conquistador. He’s slight, wobbly kneed and his kettle helmet barely conceals cascading dirty blonde hair. He’s an art school German out of place in the jungle playing a Spaniard.
Yet, in a Werner Herzog production – one that cannot help blurring the line between fiction and documentary – Kinski is the perfect choice to play Aguirre, a man bent on capturing the illusion of greatness regardless of the human cost.
Further, it takes a performance as outlandish as Kinski gives to honor the spectacle of Herzog’s vision.
The opening scene is majestic. Drifting clouds settle to reveal the enormity of the Andes Mountains before tiny specks come into surface. Herzog’s troupe are trekking down a dangerous slope into the Amazon jungle, hauling along a horse, pigs, chickens, and a cannon. Struggle marks the actors’ eyes as they have become fully immersed outsiders – even the natives are hesitant to find their footing in the treacherous terrain.
Herzog’s crew are essentially conquistadors. We have scripted dialogue to remind us otherwise, but the first portion of the movie feels more like a documentary. A basket of chickens tumbles from a cliff, a rider almost gets hung up on a crooked branch, actors swat away bugs. It’s a dangerous and brutally unfair journey.
The plot develops around the expedition’s leader Pizarro deciding to divide the group and find resources before going further into the unknown. He leaves the nobleman Ursua as his second in command. One of the rafts gets stuck in the eddy and the men are ambushed. Suddenly, the ranks are thin and plotting begins. It doesn’t take long for Aguirre to overthrow the rule of Ursua.
As Aguirre becomes the defacto fictional leader of the expedition, Kinski begins to personify the character. He’s going to battle with his cast mates. As the natives struggle to steady the sedan carrying Ursua’s mistress and Aguirre’s daughter, Kinski manhandles them, grabbing and prodding – berating them for their stumbles. Moments before Ursua is overthrown, Aguirre winds among the soldiers, clutching and pulling them into him – urging them to join his treason.
Django Kill, If You Live, Shoot! is a 1967 Italian Western directed by Guilio Questi.
Tomas Milian’s Django is betrayed by his gang following a robbery and left for dead. He recovers and becomes entangled in a bloody battle for gold between corrupt townspeople and a homosexual gang. The movie is wildly unique for its genre, as it presents a surreal Old West landscape that is layered in contemporary references.
Django Kill features a conventional Western story: a mysterious stranger comes to town and finds himself in the middle of a battle between locals and outside forces. Gold and greed are at the heart of the issue and the hero encounters an emotionally wounded love interest.
The presentation beyond the story is what makes Django Kill a fascinating movie.
The lead character, Django, is cast throughout the movie in soft light – almost in a nod to his feminine facial features. His outfit of an unbuttoned leather vest, oversized medallion and headband is decidedly atypical for Western leading men. Similarly, his actions stray from the rugged determinism that defines the genre. He’s bold and physical, yet oddly passive – as highlighted during his capture by “the Muchachos”, an outlaw gang of homosexual cowboys.
