Sergio Leone, the Italian maestro of cinema, is often celebrated as the father of the Spaghetti Western, a subgenre that redefined the American West through a distinctly European lens. While his Dollars Trilogy—A Fistful of Dollars (1964), For a Few Dollars More (1965), and The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)—cemented his legacy, his Once Upon a Time trilogy stands as a towering achievement that transcends the Western genre entirely. Comprising Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), Duck, You Sucker! (1971) (also known as A Fistful of Dynamite), and Once Upon a Time in America (1984), this trilogy is not a traditional series bound by recurring characters or a linear narrative but rather a thematic exploration of time, myth, and the human condition. Each film, distinct in setting and tone, reflects Leone’s evolution as a filmmaker and his unrelenting pursuit of cinematic grandeur.
This article delves into the Once Upon a Time trilogy, analyzing each film in depth, exploring Leone’s signature directing techniques, and unpacking the broader artistic and cultural significance of these works. From the sprawling deserts of the American frontier to the gritty streets of Prohibition-era New York, Leone’s trilogy is a meditation on history, memory, and the inevitable passage of time.
Once Upon a Time in the West (1968): The Mythic Western Reimagined
Once Upon a Time in the West is often hailed as Leone’s masterpiece, a film that distills the essence of the Western while simultaneously deconstructing it. Released in 1968, it marked a deliberate shift from the gritty, morally ambiguous antiheroes of the Dollars Trilogy to a more operatic and elegiac tone. The film’s plot revolves around a mysterious harmonica-playing gunslinger (Charles Bronson), a ruthless railroad tycoon’s enforcer (Henry Fonda), a widowed landowner (Claudia Cardinale), and an outlaw with a heart (Jason Robards). Set against the backdrop of a burgeoning railroad town, the story is both a revenge tale and a lament for the vanishing frontier.
Plot and Characters
The film opens with one of cinema’s most iconic sequences: a nearly wordless 10-minute standoff at a dusty train station, where three gunmen await the arrival of Bronson’s unnamed character, known only as “Harmonica.” The scene, punctuated by the creaking of a windmill and the drip of water, exemplifies Leone’s mastery of tension and pacing. Harmonica’s mission is revealed gradually—he seeks vengeance against Frank (Fonda), a cold-blooded killer responsible for the death of his family. Meanwhile, Jill McBain (Cardinale), a former prostitute turned widow, arrives to claim her late husband’s land, only to find herself embroiled in a struggle over water rights and the encroaching railroad. Cheyenne (Robards), a bandit framed for murder, becomes an unlikely ally.
Leone subverts Western archetypes here. Fonda, typically cast as a virtuous hero, plays against type as a chilling villain, his blue eyes radiating menace. Harmonica is no traditional gunslinger but a ghostly figure driven by a haunting past, revealed in a devastating flashback. Jill, rather than a damsel in distress, emerges as the film’s emotional core, a symbol of resilience amid chaos.
Directing Technique
Leone’s direction in Once Upon a Time in the West is a study in patience and precision. His use of long takes and wide shots emphasizes the vastness of the landscape, dwarfing the characters within it. The Monument Valley setting, immortalized by John Ford, becomes a character in itself, its timeless beauty contrasting with the encroaching modernity of the railroad. Close-ups, a Leone trademark, amplify emotional stakes—Harmonica’s steely gaze, Frank’s predatory smirk, Jill’s tear-streaked resolve.
Ennio Morricone’s score is inseparable from the film’s impact. Each character has a leitmotif: Harmonica’s mournful harmonica wail, Frank’s ominous guitar twang, Jill’s soaring orchestral theme. The music doesn’t merely accompany the visuals—it dictates the rhythm, turning the film into a cinematic opera. Leone reportedly played Morricone’s compositions on set to guide the actors’ performances, a testament to their symbiotic collaboration.
Themes and Legacy
At its heart, Once Upon a Time in the West is a requiem for the Old West. The railroad symbolizes progress, but it also heralds the end of an era—outlaws and gunslingers are relics in a world of commerce and law. The film’s title evokes fairy tales, suggesting a mythologized past that never truly existed. Critics and audiences initially struggled with its deliberate pace and ambiguity, but it has since been recognized as a landmark, influencing directors like Quentin Tarantino and Martin Scorsese.
Duck, You Sucker! (1971): Revolution and Disillusionment
Less celebrated than its trilogy counterparts, Duck, You Sucker! (released in 1971) is a fascinating anomaly in Leone’s oeuvre. Originally titled Giù la Testa (“Get Down!” in Italian), it was marketed in the U.S. as A Fistful of Dynamite to capitalize on his earlier successes, though Leone himself preferred its more poetic English title. Set during the Mexican Revolution, the film blends political commentary with dark humor, offering a cynical take on idealism and betrayal.
Plot and Characters
The story follows Juan Miranda (Rod Steiger), a boisterous Mexican bandit, and John H. Mallory (James Coburn), an Irish revolutionary and explosives expert. Juan dreams of robbing the Mesa Verde bank, but John manipulates him into aiding the revolutionary cause. What begins as a comedic partnership—Juan’s earthy pragmatism clashing with John’s detached cynicism—unravels into tragedy as the revolution’s cost becomes apparent. Flashbacks reveal John’s past betrayal in Ireland, where he killed a friend to protect himself, a guilt that mirrors Juan’s eventual loss of his family to government forces.
Steiger’s larger-than-life performance contrasts with Coburn’s understated cool, creating a dynamic that drives the film. Juan’s transformation from opportunistic thief to reluctant hero is poignant, while John’s disillusionment reflects Leone’s skepticism toward grand ideologies.
Directing Technique
Duck, You Sucker! retains Leone’s visual hallmarks—sweeping vistas, meticulous framing, and extreme close-ups—but introduces a grittier, more chaotic aesthetic. The Mexican desert replaces the American plains, its harshness reflecting the brutality of war. Leone’s pacing is less measured here, with explosive action sequences punctuating the narrative. Yet his signature tension remains, as in the scene where Juan and John rig a bridge with dynamite, the silence before the blast amplifying the stakes.
Morricone’s score shifts to a more eclectic sound, blending mournful strings with playful motifs like the recurring “Sean, Sean” theme, a nod to John’s lost comrade. The music underscores the film’s tonal swings, from slapstick to sorrow.
Themes and Legacy
The film grapples with the futility of revolution. Juan’s initial cynicism—“Revolutions are for suckers”—gives way to grief as he witnesses the human toll, while John’s expertise becomes a tool of destruction rather than liberation. Leone, who took over directing after assistant Giancarlo Santi struggled, infuses the film with his ambivalence toward political upheaval, a reflection of Italy’s turbulent 1970s.
Duck, You Sucker! was a commercial disappointment, its tonal inconsistency and heavy themes alienating audiences expecting another Western romp. Yet it has gained a cult following for its raw energy and philosophical depth, a bridge between Leone’s Westerns and his final epic.
Once Upon a Time in America (1984): Memory and the American Dream
Leone’s swan song, Once Upon a Time in America, released in 1984 after years of development, is his most ambitious and personal work. Abandoning the Western entirely, it spans five decades of American history, chronicling the rise and fall of Jewish gangsters in New York. A meditation on time, friendship, and betrayal, it’s a gangster epic that defies the genre’s conventions.
Plot and Characters
The film follows David “Noodles” Aaronson (Robert De Niro) and Max Bercovicz (James Woods), childhood friends who climb from petty thieves in the 1920s Lower East Side to Prohibition-era kingpins. Their bond is tested by love—Noodles’ unrequited affection for Deborah (Elizabeth McGovern)—and ambition, culminating in a betrayal that haunts Noodles into old age. The narrative unfolds non-linearly, weaving between the 1920s, 1930s, and 1968, as an elderly Noodles returns to confront his past.
De Niro’s understated performance anchors the film, his weary eyes conveying decades of regret. Woods’ Max is a charismatic yet ruthless foil, while McGovern’s Deborah embodies the unattainable dream. The ensemble, including Joe Pesci and Tuesday Weld, fleshes out a world of loyalty and treachery.
Directing Technique
Leone’s style reaches its zenith here. The film’s 229-minute runtime (in its restored European cut) allows for languid pacing, with scenes stretching to savor every detail—the clatter of a speakeasy, the haze of an opium den. His wide shots capture the urban sprawl, from tenement slums to gleaming skyscrapers, while close-ups reveal the toll of time on his characters’ faces.
Morricone’s score, featuring the haunting “Deborah’s Theme,” is achingly nostalgic, amplifying the film’s melancholic tone. Leone’s use of sound—dripping faucets, ringing phones—creates a sensory tapestry that immerses viewers in Noodles’ fractured memories. The non-linear structure, a bold departure from his earlier works, mirrors the fluidity of recollection.
Themes and Legacy
Once Upon a Time in America is a requiem for the American Dream. Noodles’ journey reflects the immigrant experience—hope curdled into disillusionment. The film questions memory’s reliability: did Max betray Noodles, or did Noodles abandon Max? The ambiguous ending—Noodles smiling in an opium haze—suggests escape into illusion over harsh reality.
The film’s U.S. release was butchered to 139 minutes, stripping its coherence and bombing at the box office. The restored cut, however, is now regarded as a masterpiece, a testament to Leone’s uncompromising vision. It stands as his final statement, completed just five years before his death in 1989.
Leone’s Directing Techniques: A Unified Vision
Across the trilogy, Leone’s techniques form a cohesive signature. His love of extreme contrasts—wide landscapes versus tight close-ups—creates a dynamic visual language. He favored long takes to build tension, often delaying action to heighten anticipation, as in Once Upon a Time in the West’s opening or Duck, You Sucker!’s bridge explosion. His collaboration with Morricone elevated soundtracks to a narrative force, a rarity in cinema at the time.
Leone’s use of silence and ambient sound—wind, footsteps, gunfire—grounds his films in visceral realism, while his operatic staging lends them mythic weight. He drew inspiration from Italian opera and classic Hollywood, yet his European perspective infused his work with irony and detachment, setting him apart from American directors like Ford or Hawks.
Broader Significance
The Once Upon a Time trilogy traces Leone’s evolution from genre innovator to cinematic poet. Each film reflects its era—West mourns the 1960s’ lost innocence, Duck grapples with 1970s unrest, America laments 1980s materialism. Together, they explore time’s passage, from the frontier’s end to the modern age’s moral decay.
Leone’s influence endures in modern cinema. Tarantino’s pacing, Scorsese’s character studies, and the Coen brothers’ mythic storytelling owe debts to him. His trilogy, though disparate in setting, shares a soul—a fascination with how individuals navigate history’s tides.
Conclusion
Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time trilogy is a monumental achievement, a triptych that transcends its genres to probe the human experience. Once Upon a Time in the West mythologizes the past, Duck, You Sucker! questions the present, and Once Upon a Time in America mourns what’s lost. Through his unparalleled craft, Leone invites us to linger in these worlds, to feel the weight of time, and to confront the stories we tell ourselves. For cinephiles and casual viewers alike, the trilogy remains a timeless journey—one worth revisiting again and again.