Saturday, March 30, 2013

Happy 80th Birthday Luis Bacalov


Luis EnrĂ­quez Bacalov was born on March 30, 1933 in Buenos Aires, Argentina. He is a prolific Argentinian-Italian, composer of film scores. Early on in his career, he composed scores for Spaghetti Western films. In the early 1970s, he collaborated with Italian progressive rock bands. Bacalov has been nominated twice for the Academy Award for Original Score, winning it in 1996 for “Il Postino”. Bacalov has composed significant works for chorus and orchestra. Presently he is the artistic director of the Orchestra della Magna Grecia in Taranto, Italy. Bacalov composed the scores for 16 Euro-westerns including “Django” (1965), “A Bullet for the General” (1966), “The Price of Power” (1969), “The Grand Duel” (1972) and “The Man Called Noon” (1973). Today we celebrate the 80th birthday of Luis Enriquez Bacalov.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Guess Who I Am




I’m a Spanish character actor.

I’ve appeared in over 50 films and TV appearances, 11 of which were Euro-westerns.

I was gunned down by Lee Van Cleef in THE BIG GUNDOWN.

Guess who I am.

No one guessed this weeks photo of Luis Gaspar.

 

The Myth of the Cowboy




Eric Hobsbawm
The Guardian, Wednesday 20 March 2013

In Britain, at least, the word "cowboy" today has a secondary meaning, which is much more familiar than the primary meaning of a fellow in the Marlboro ads: a fellow who comes in from nowhere offering a service, such as to repair your roof, but who doesn't know what he's doing or doesn't care except about ripping you off: a "cowboy plumber" or a "cowboy bricklayer". I leave you to speculate (a) how this secondary meaning derives from the Shane or John Wayne stereotype and (b) how much it reflects the reality of the Reaganite wearers of dude Stetsons in the sunbelt. I don't know when the term first appears in British usage, but certainly it was not before the mid-1960s. In this version, what a man's got to do is to fleece us and disappear into the sunset.

There is, in fact, a European backlash against the John Wayne image of the west, and that is the revived genre of the western movie. Whatever the spaghetti westerns mean, they certainly were deeply critical of the US western myth, and in being so, paradoxically, they showed how much demand there still was among adults in both Europe and the US for the old gunslingers. The western was revived via Sergio Leone, or for that matter via Kurosawa – that is, via non-American intellectuals steeped in the lore and the films of the west, but sceptical of the American invented tradition.

In the second place, foreigners simply do not recognise the associations of the western myth for the American right or indeed for ordinary Americans. Everyone wears jeans, but without that spontaneous, if faint urge that so many young Americans feel, to slouch against an imagined hitching post, narrowing their eyes against the sun. Even their aspiring rich don't ever feel tempted to wear Texan-type hats. They can watch John Schlesinger's Midnight Cowboy without a sense of desecration. In short, only Americans live in Marlboro country. Gary Cooper was never a joke, but JR and the other platinum-plated inhabitants of the great dude ranch in Dallas are. In this sense the west is no longer an international tradition.

What was so special about cowboys? First, clearly, that they occurred in a country that was universally visible and central to the 19th-century world, of which it constituted, as it were, the utopian dimension: the living dream. Anything that happened in America seemed bigger, more extreme, more dramatic and unlimited, even when it wasn't – and of course often it was, though not in the case of the cowboys. Second, because the purely local vogue for western myth was magnified and internationalised by means of the global influence of American popular culture, the most original and creative in the industrial and urban world, and the mass media that carried it and which the US dominated. And let me observe in passing that it made its way in the world not only directly, but also indirectly, via the European intellectuals it attracted to the US, or at a distance.

This would certainly explain why cowboys are better known than vaqueros or gauchos, but not, I think, the full range of the international vibrations they set up, or used to set up. This, I suggest, is due to the in-built anarchism of American capitalism. I mean not only the anarchism of the market, but the ideal of an individual uncontrolled by any constraints of state authority. In many ways the 19th-century US was a stateless society. Compare the myths of the American and the Canadian west: the one is a myth of a Hobbesian state of nature mitigated only by individual and collective self-help: licensed or unlicensed gunmen, posses of vigilantes and occasional cavalry charges. The other is the myth of the imposition of government and public order as symbolised by the uniforms of the Canadian version of the horseman-hero, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

Individualist anarchism had two faces. For the rich and powerful it represents the superiority of profit over law and state. Not just because law and the state can be bought, but because even when they can't, they have no moral legitimacy compared to selfishness and profit. For those who have neither wealth nor power, it represents independence, and the little man's right to make himself respected and show what he can do. I don't think it was an accident that the ideal-typical cowboy hero of the classic invented west was a loner, not beholden to anyone; nor, I think, that money was not important for him. As Tom Mix put it: "I ride into a place owning my own horse, saddle and bridle. It isn't my quarrel, but I get into trouble doing the right thing for somebody else. When it's all ironed out, I never get any money reward."

In a way the loner lent himself to imaginary self-identification just because he was a loner. To be Gary Cooper at high noon or Sam Spade, you just have to imagine you are one man, whereas to be Don Corleone or Rico, let alone Hitler, you have to imagine a collective of people who follow and obey you, which is less plausible. I suggest that the cowboy, just because he was a myth of an ultra-individualist society, the only society of the bourgeois era without real pre-bourgeois roots, was an unusually effective vehicle for dreaming – which is all that most of us get in the way of unlimited opportunities. To ride alone is less implausible than to wait until that marshal's baton in your knapsack becomes reality.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

THE RETURN OF THE COYOTE



La vuelta de El Coyote – Spanish title
El Coyote – Spanish title
The Return of El Coyote – English title

A 1997 Spanish production [Enrique Cerezo Productions Cinematograficas S.A., Gona film S.L. (Madrid)]
Producers: Enrique Cerezo, Juan Martinez-Gona
Director: Mario Camus (Mario GarcĂ­a)
Story: José Mallorquí
Screenplay: César Mallorquí, Mario Camus (Mario García)
Cinematography: Jaime Peracaula (Jaume Peracaula) [Eastmancolor]
Music: Sebastián Mariné
Running time: 100 minutes

Cast:
El Coyote/El Coyote - José Coronado (José García)
Don CĂ©sar Felix de EchagĂĽe – Nigel Davenport
Salinas - RamĂłn Langa
Edmond Greene – Ray Lovelock (Raymond Lovelock)
Antonia Gonzaga de Salinas – Isabel Serrano
General Clarke – Neil Boorman
Don Luis Montalbán - Simón Andreu (Simón Trobat)
Captain Potts – Paul Codman
Julian – Manuel Alexandre
Snake Walker – Christopher Adamson
Doctor Garcia Oviedo – Manuel Zarzo (Manuel Zarza)
Sergeant Charlie McAdams – Luis Peña (Luis Illescas)
Beatriz – Mar Flores (Maria Caballero)
Leonor de Acevedo – Chiara Caselli
Adelia – Carmen Rossi
Evelio – Roberto Perdomo (Roberto Suárez)
Timoteo Lugones – Carlos Miguel Caballero
Leocadio – Carlos Alcalde
Joy – Ana Duato
Segura – Antonio Valero (Antonio Osma)
Maria – Teresa del Olmo
Guadalupe – VerĂłnica Pastrana
Isabel Serrano – Antonia Gonzaga
Mark – Tony Isbert (Antonio Ysbert)
Diego - José Luis Beltrán
Drunk - Cesáreo Estébanez
Mexicans – Miguel Hermoso (Miguel Hermoso Arnao), Ă“scar Zafra
Townsman – Arsenio Mayo
With: José Luis Santos, Jesús Garrido, José Antonio Correa, Domingo Beltrán, Sonia Bau, Chema Blasco (José Etxeguren), José Luis Beltran, Óscar Dominé, Juan García del Santo, Bernardo Díaz, Guillermo Toledo, Martxelo Rubio
Stunts: Luis Miguel Arranz,  Alejandro Cobo (Alejandro Cobo GarcĂ­a), Ricardo Cruz, Rafael Davesa, Pedro Garcia (Pedro GarcĂ­a GarcĂ­a), Gabi GimĂ©nez, Luis Manuel GutiĂ©rrez (Luis Santos), Juan Maján, JesĂşs Riarán (JesĂşs Torres), Camilo Vila


In the 1850s a mysterious masked man known as 'El Coyote' fought for good in Mexican California. He subsequently disappeared though and returned to his ordinary life as Cesar de Echague. Soon to be married, Cesar must return to his heroic persona to foil the dastardly real estate schemes of General Clarke, who wants to grab some of the best land in California for himself.