THE MEXICO TRILOGY:
El Mariachi (Robert Rodriguez / 1992)
Desperado (Robert Rodriguez / 1995)
Once Upon a Time in Mexico (Robert Rodriguez / 2003)
Just released from Arrow Video last Tuesday (and on sale for 50% off at Barnes & Noble). Once again, here's a film franchise that I had never delved into before now. I mean, yeah, I had been a long-time fan of Rodriguez's collaborations with Quentin Tarantino (
Four Rooms,
From Dusk Till Dawn,
Kill Bill: Volume 2,
Sin City,
Grindhouse), but my familiarity with those was largely due to the fact that I was mainly a Tarantino fan. But for some reason, I had never really gotten around to seeing the so-called
"Mexico Trilogy".
Well, this is an extremely handsome package - as usual - from the good folks at Arrow Video. This has actually got
four discs: All three movies on remastered Blu-rays, and a special 4K UHD transfer of
Desperado. When I first became aware of the fact that only the second movie was being made available in a 4K transfer, I was admittedly a bit perplexed. That is, until I actually saw the movies. While
Desperado was the only film in the trilogy to be actually
shot on proper film, the low-budget
El Mariachi was originally shot on video, while the climactic
Once Upon a Time in Mexico was Rodriguez's first film to be shot digitally. So in the case of the first and third films, anything more advanced than a Blu-ray version would presumably be either inapplicable or redundant. At least that's my educated
guess as to why
Desperado is the only film in this set with a 4K version.
As far as the movies themselves, I found them to be a great deal of fun. The $7,000-budgeted
El Mariachi - the one with Carlos Gallardo in the title role of the guitar-playing pistolero - is really quite amazing given the scant resources Rodriguez had at his disposal. But then again, this man is quite adept at finding the creative inspiration to make do and work with whatever resources he's got at hand!
Desperado gives us Antonio Banderas in the lead role and the lovely Salma Hayek in the role of Carolina. Much more polished and professional than the debut, but just as wild and inventive in its action sequences and even
more over-the-top. It's got amusing if brief performances from Steve Buscemi and Quentin Tarantino as well. My personal favorite, however, is the concluding chapter,
Once Upon a Time in Mexico. Liberated by advances in digital technology, Rodriguez pulls out all the stops and delivers a complex epic action tale with even more outrageous action set pieces and a larger cast of characters, including Johnny Depp's rogue psycho CIA agent, Willem Dafoe's drug kingpin, and a snazzy-suited Mickey Rourke with his pet chihuahua.
While one of Rodriguez's most obvious inspirations for this trilogy is Sergio Leone's
"Dollars Trilogy" (1964-1966) with Clint Eastwood as The Man With No Name (
A Fistful of Dollars,
For a Few Dollars More and
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly), you could also draw a parallel between this and Sam Raimi's
The Evil Dead trilogy (1981-1993), in that we start with a primitive but inventive, practically zero-budget debut and gradually work our way up to large-scale Hollywood epic. (Although I think 1992's
Army of Darkness is the weakest of Raimi's trilogy, while
Once Upon a Time in Mexico more closely follows the Leone template in being the culminating grand finale of the series.)
I haven't heard Robert Rodriguez actually make any references to Sergio Corbucci in interviews or commentary, I can't imagine there isn't just a
little bit of
Django (1966) in the mix as well. After all, Franco Nero's Django may be named after a famous guitar player (Reinhardt), but El Mariachi can actually
play the guitar. (To quote Jason Robards as Cheyenne in Leone's
Once Upon a Time in the West from 1968:
"He not only plays, he can shoot too!") And of course, I can detect more than just a little of Corbucci's so-called "Zapata Westerns,"
The Mercenary (1968) and
Compañeros (1970). Not to mention that at the end of
El Mariachi, the hero's hand is injured (and of course that's a trope with a long history in American
and Italian Westerns, also being the fate of the real-life guitarist Django Reinhardt). Rodriguez also shares Corbucci's cruel streak with regard to certain characters. Just as in
Django when the Gino Pernice character's ear is severed by the Mexicans as punishment for spying, Johnny Depp's rogue operative Sands in
Once Upon a Time in Mexico has his eyes gouged by the villains for
his machinations!