Quiet On Tha Set

The Great Silence (Sergio Corbucci, 1968)

It's fair to say the swingin' sixties was entering a seismic comedown in 1968, as represented by a wave of downbeat films like, Rosemary's Baby, Night of the Living Dead and Planet of the Apes. Across the continent, the spaghetti western genre was already in full stride, approaching critical peak with a string of personal faves, If You Meet Sartana Pray For Death, Kill Them All And Come Back Alone and of course, Sergio Leone's epic cinemagasm Once Upon A Time In The West. The genre itself had breathed new life into a tired old format by deconstructing familiar archetypal figures and values into much grayer areas. It was the era of the antihero. Amongst those antiheroes was Sergio Corbucci's mute protagonist Silence, featured in his snow-swept, doomer classic The Great Silence.

"......."

 Casting prolific French actor Jean-Louis Trintignant as the titular antihero, appeared to be an intentional masterstroke, since his lack of knowing the native lingo forced him to play out the role as a mute. This let Tritignant show off his acting prowess with some superb facial acting. Visually speaking, of all the most recognisable characters from the spaghetti western genre, Silence is definitely up there, since his dark winter clobber are in stark contrast to the lighter clothing of his peers. No idea what that hairy monstrosity which is sprouting from beneath his heavy black coat is, but it looks like it's the same material as Pete Burns' gorilla fur coat, making him appear all the more stiking. What's easily the most identifiable item related to Silence, is his ultra cool Mauser C96, replete with its innovative gun holster, that also serves as a shoulder rest. Love the design of this semi-automatic pistol, and it actually dates itself correctly with the film's 1898 setting.

Corbucci didn't drop the ball with his supporting cast of actors, either; hiring an enviable league of spaghetti western veterans, ranging from Frank Wolff, Luigi Pistilli, Mario Brega, and of course arthouse and trash madman Klaus Kinski; as the film's major villain Tigrero (Loco, to the English dub headz). Venetta McGee also appears in one of her earliest roles, before even Blacula (1972), as Pauline the wronged woman, who hires Silence to exact her revenge.

The film is remarkably bleak throughout its run time, with the exception of two scenes: Gideon (Wolff) and Silence's bonding over some friendly target shooting; and Silence and Pauline's love scene, before everything goes to hell. I'm particularly fond and appreciative of the former scene, largely due to seeing our two sharpshooters take a brief respite from Snow Hill's doom and gloom, and have some fun for a bit. I also consider it fairly important, since we're seeing these two men represent a mindset that's completely alien to the rest of the film's male characters - a code of honour. It's this absence of any moral decency that makes Kinski's Tigrero one of the most compelling villains he's played, and he's played a hell of a lot of memorable villains. Corbucci's film subverts familiar tropes and cliches, and one of them is having the film's bad guys - Trigreo and his clique of bounty hunters, on the right side of the law. Another, is its take on capitalism, and how the amoral prosper from it, while the less fortunate are completely expendable. 

"I'm fouler than gats that don't bust when they supposed to"

Much like Corbucci's classic Django (1966), location plays an integral part in his film. Here, he swaps out the mud clogged town for knee deep snow, where Tigrero keeps his corpse bounties buried to remain fresh. Allegedly, Corbucci opted for snow this time around as he fancied a ski vacation in the Italian Dolomites. True or not, the location worked wonders as it helped cement the overall tone of the film. Much like Silence's iconic look, the location is also in stark contrast to many of its peers. Aside from the stetsons, you could almost be forgiven for mistaking it as David Lean's Doctor Zhivago (1965) - even Pistilli's character Pollicut is rockin' a ushanka. Hardly a coincidence that Tarantino was inspired heavily by the snow swept scenery of The Great Silence, as its evident in both of his westerns - Django Unchained (2012) and The Hateful Eight (2015).

Soundtrack duties were put in safe capable hands with il maestro, Ennio Morricone handling the music. His compositions are way more nunanced than some of his other western soundtracks produced around the same time. This feels way more melancholic and subtle, but still of a high standard. Morricone even has flourishes of the avant-garde by incorporating more exotic sounds, like sitar strings. Big fan of both the angelic harmonies from the main theme and the rousing Barbara E Tagliente with its quintessential Morricone style guitar riff.

Ought to come clean and reveal I always find myself holding back the feels on this one, especially the film's sobering finale. Much like me watching The Great Escape (1963) and wishing for Steve McQueen's Hilts to make it over the barbwire fence on his motorbike, I find myself wishing Silence takes down Trigrero and his band of killers like a true badass, and then rides off into the sunset. Alas, there isn't a coffin containing a gatling gun here to save the day. It was never meant to be. Silence walks to the saloon with the knowledge of his impending fate. We're presented with the shockingly brutal demise of our film's protagonist; along with his love interest and a grip of townsfolk butchered in cold blood. Daybreak hits and Trigrero and the rest of his mob leave the town triumphant. Worth noting that Corbucci did have the forsight in predicting the possible flack he would receive for his downbeat ending and shot a happier alternative; which sadly does not work at all, and really undermines the film's original submersive intention. Poncey film critics might interpret the film's ending completely different to me, but I see the change from night to day as a metaphor for the oncoming twentieth century; honour, as represented by gunfighters like Gideon and Silence is a trait from a bygone time, while the early dawn rays of the sun represent a bountiful era for greedy and ruthless men like Tigrero.

Worth pointing out that The Great Silence, or as film maker and ex-Moviedrome presenter Alex Cox calls it (and approximately sixty million Italians), Il grande silenzio, could be seen as a predecessor and purveyor of the intense damage and destruction felt by various film protagonists evident in seventies and early eighties cinema - particularly, within the New Hollywood scene. Way too young to go into it with any real first hand knowledge, but I see The Great Silence and its pessimistic ilk as part of a symptomatic legacy attributed to all the social and political upheavel around the globe at that time; a mass existential crisis, if you will. Feel like I've rambled on about this film way too much, but it's worth it. All armchair analysis aside, The Great Silence is one of the greatest westerns ever made, in my honest opinion. 

The Great Silence (Masters of Cinema Trailer)

(Sergio Corbucci, 1968)