The Art of Silence in A FISTFUL OF DYNAMITE
United ArtistsSergio Leone’s final foray into the Western genre, A Fistful of Dynamite – commonly referred to by its original title, Duck, You Sucker! – is also considered to be his most overlooked work. Teaming with acting talents such as Rod Steiger and James Coburn, A Fistful of Dynamite sees a surprisingly politically charged movie following Steiger’s Juan Miranda as he becomes an unwitting hero of the Mexican Revolution, helped in part by Coburn’s John Mallory, an IRA terrorist on the run. Despite the relationship developing between these two outcast men remaining very much at the heart and core of the film, Leone intriguingly chooses to play out a lot of the more emotionally driven scenes without a single word of dialogue.
There are several examples of silence pushing the narrative forward within the movie, but two scenes in particular draw attention to how Leone shines a light on the emotions and mindsets of his characters. After taking out a squad of Mexican soldiers crossing a bridge, Juan and John take cover in a cave only to learn that the other revolutionaries and even Juan’s own father and children have been massacred. The man behind the curtain who is responsible for this mockingly has his face plastered over every wall in Mesa Verde: Governor Don Jaime (Franco Graziosi).
When Juan finally meets the corrupt Governor face to face, while they are attempting to flee the village now overrun by revolutionaries, he is given a choice: accept a bribe or take the man’s life. Don Jamie may be babbling to save his life, but his words are just background noise in this moment that Leone has constructed. The focus is on the usually quippy and chatty Juan and the feelings coursing through him – he hasn’t, as of yet, really acknowledged the loss of his family and this situation brings all his thoughts to the surface. It’s intentionally jarring to see this man at a loss for words. Tears connote his sadness and devastation, while the gun in his hand is clearly used to portray his anger at being drawn into a revolution he wanted no part in. Don Jaime has no knowledge of why Juan is aiming a gun at him and this may even be the deciding factor for Juan; not that Don Jamie doesn’t know how he has hurt Juan, but rather the fact that Don Jamie knows he has committed wrong and is willing to beg for forgiveness even though he doesn’t know which crime he is being persecuted for.
Interestingly, cinematic silence isn’t an unusual trait of Leone’s. Another popular character of his is Clint Eastwood’s The Man with No Name, who is notorious for his aversion towards discourse. However, as opposed to Juan who is silent because of the emotions consuming him, The Man with No Name is silent for a completely different reason. The Man with No Name is effectively supposed to be the definition of an archetypal hero and the lack of dialogue from this character is used to serve the purpose of heightening the mystery surrounding him – effectively, it’s characterising him by taking away opportunities of specific characterisation. The Man with No Name is a nobody and an anybody, all at the same time.
While Leone uses silence to convey Juan’s emotions, he does so to a slightly different degree in one particular scene with John. After finding the massacred bodies, John spies his friend, Dr Villega (Romolo Valli), in a vehicle with one of the soldiers. As John watches Villega, the film divulges into one of several flashbacks depicting John’s life in Ireland, where an incident reminiscent of this situation has occurred. John’s best friend and potential lover, Nolan (David Warbeck), identifies John to two police officers, resulting in John having to execute the officers and also Nolan; this is evidently the start of his fugitive’s journey to Mexico. These two scenes divulge over the course of many minutes, with a fixation on the character’s faces easily telling the story with their reactions.
Again, Leone is no stranger to shooting lengthy scenes without any dialogue. The opening sequence of Once Upon a Time in the West serves as a way of Leone being able to showcase an often unexplored representation of the real West – the desert landscape is barren, with it truly having little to offer despite the fact the audience is watching three assassins preparing for a hit. However, in contrast to the scenes in A Fistful of Dynamite, the opening of Once Upon A Time in the West does little to progress any kind of character development or to even further much of a narrative.
What is particularly interesting about the sequence in A Fistful of Dynamite is that it does more than just illuminate explicitly the woes of John’s past. In showing this flashback, Leone is directly paralleling it with the shots of John looking at Dr Villega, explaining through John’s memories that Villega has also betrayed John, just like Nolan did. This whole sequence plays out without any accompanying dialogue – the only thing that comes alongside it is Ennio Morricone’s haunting score, with this score solely being used to amplify the images on screen. Leone clearly never likes to waste a word and, with this scene, he has two big revelations taking place in complete, comprehensible silence – proving that cinematic silence can be a powerful directorial tool when utilised in the right manner.