#the good the bad and the ugly 1967

[hansatorium]

super self-indulgant edit of blondie and tuco because I'm sort of insane about them <3

[retromusicart]

Ennio Morricone - The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) (United Artists, 1967) - Designer uncredited

One of the most internationally recognized movie scores of all time.

Image courtesy of Discogs.

[pasta-pardner]

top 5 SPAGHETTI westerns >:3

TOUGH... ok

For a Few Dollars More | Per qualche dollaro in più (1965)

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly | Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo (1966)

A Bullet for the General | Quién sabe? (1966)

Day of Anger | I giorni dell'ira (1967)

The Great Silence | Il grande silenzio (1968)

[angel-eyes]

I wanna write comfort fics for LVC characters

[yippeecheapdvds]

Last week I watched "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" (1967) Western/Adventure/Drama

This was a movie my brother picked out, and I did not expect it to like it as much as I did. I liked all the characters, the story was great, the action was fun, and it was cool to see how much influence this movie had on what came after it.

My only complaint is that this movie was very long. they used that time well, but by the time the movie was over it was well past my bedtime

9/10

[bagelsenjoyer14]

Maybe controversial but one thing about me is that I am a 1967 Crowley apologist

I have seen a lot of hate for this look, and I personally will not stand for this homophobia any longer. I mean shit look at that turtle neck, that immediately yells 60’s slut to me. I also have seen many people talking about this same turtle neck and I can not believe you guys have switched sides. Oh now you suddenly love it? Like you did not hate on this man for it a couple months ago? You guys are just as bad as my man Jim here.

Now finally the haircut, the one piece of this look that has gotten the most backlash. But before I defend it, I feel like I need to give a little context on this hairstyle. 60’s and 70’s hairstyles are ugly as hell, and that is what makes them incredibly appealing. How dare a person have the audacity to rock something so insane, so never done before! God did not create the mop top on any of the seven days and by god that is why we look so horribly good in it (and also why Crowley is rocking it!). So in conclusion while the hairstyle is a bit startling, that is the beauty of it!

Also maybe it is the Beatle loving side of me and the good omens side of me screaming internally because my worlds are colliding, but the John Lennon glasses add the perfect mix to this, I mean damn Crowley had no reason to slay so hard. And I personally crave more 1967 Crowley, in fact I think our world would heal (probably not the global warming part though as I’m sure it took a shit load of hairspray for that hairstyle)

And before you guys open tumblr to attack this man for being incredibly groovy I ask you to stop in your tracks and revert your eyes to this utter rock bottom of a look I have ever seen. By god it looks like someone murdered a leprechaun and glued it to my man crowley’s chin!

[timefadesaway]

fav first watches of september <3

tagged by lovisa @wutheringdyke 💞

what a way to go! (1964) / cool hand luke (1967) / seven samurai (1954) / all that jazz (1979) / lawrence of arabia (1962) / the good, the bad and the ugly (1966)

tagging @rogersandclarke @holedyke @hillmouse @barstoolblues @ghostsynths :)

[tallwife]

[zippocreed501]

...images from the lost continent of cult films, b-movies and celluloid dreamscapes

Furious Anger: Preachers, Priests Nuns and Missionaries in Westerns

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966) The Way West  (1967) 5 Card Stud (1968) Two Mules for Sister Sara (1970) Cain's Cutthroats (1971) Buck and the Preacher (1972) God's Gun (1976) Pale Rider (1985) The Quick and the Dead (1995)

[thislovintime]

Photo by Nurit Wilde.

"He’s the ‘flower child’ of the quartet — hip to love, peace, beauty and all that (not that the others are in favor of hate, war and ugliness, but you see what I mean). This ties in with his complete trust of his fellow man. He says, ‘If everyone trusted everyone else, then 99% of the people would live up to that trust. All kinds of crime and cruelty would be eliminated. No one would be saying, Well, I always knew he was a bad sort. Everyone would just expect you to do the right thing and you would.’" - Tracy Thomas, Flip, September 1967 "I hate prejudice and violence. Somehow, those two seem to go hand-in-hand. Think of it this way: suppose we lived in a country where everybody was green, and then some orange and purple polka-dotted people came along. So we would be saying, 'Gee, what funny-looking polka-dotted people!' But because people are basically good in their hearts, each group would want to be friendly with the other. It's only fear, lies and bad leadership that keeps us all from loving each other and from seeing each other clearly and purely with the eye of the mind and the love of the heart." - Peter Tork, 16, December 1968 “I believe very much in all that I believed in back in the 60’s. I hope I’m more aware of the practicalities than I was then, but I am positive that the values and principles I held then are critical to the well-being of the planet, or at the very least, critical to growth and contentment in the population. As to the practicalities: the chance of no more war in our lifetimes is so close to zero that I don’t imagine it possible, tho’ there well may be progress along these lines. May be. Sometimes I see the world as an eternal horse race between salvation and dissolution, now one, and now the other gaining the lead. But to the extent that we can learn, each and all of us, that the cooperative good is good for the greatest individual good (with safeguards, to be sure), that forgiveness is the route to true inner peace, and that not everything we deem wrong or bad may be so, to that extent hassles of all shapes, sizes and colors will diminish. I am so sure of all this that I would, I hope, be willing to bet my life on these principles.” - Peter Tork, Ask Peter Tork

[mister-warmth]

Did a thing with this year's western extravaganza I've been going though

[kdo-three]

Hugo Montenegro His Orchestra and Chorus - The Good, The Bad and The Ugly (Theme) (1968) Ennio Morricone from: "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" / "March with Hope" (Single) "Music from 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly' and 'A Fistful of Dollars' and "For a Few Dollars More'" (LP)

Instrumental | Movie Theme | Ennio Morricone Cover

JukeHostUK (left click = play) (320kbps)

Partial Personnel: Art Smith: Ocarina Tommy Morgan: Harmonica ("the 'wah-wah-wah' sound") Muzzy Marcellino: Whistle Hugo Montenegro: Vocals (Hugo "grunted something which came out like 'rep, rup, rep, rup, rep'") Elliot Fisher: Electric Violin Emmanuel "Mannie" Klein: Piccolo Trumpet

Arranged and Conducted by Hugo Montenegro Produced by Neely Plumb

Recorded: @ RCA Victor's Music Center of the World in Hollywood, California USA on November 18, 1967

Album Released: in December, 1967

Single Released: in January, 1968

RCA Victor Records

[thesoulesscollection]

Beat The Hand That Sins (Thsc Choc Fic)

Heya! Here's a little writer's blurb. I wanted to write a piece depicting the turbulent dynamic between Candy with her grandson, Choc. 

By the way, please read the tags, Candy isn't a good person, she's very flawed, traumatized even, and downright abusive, most if not all having it directed at Choc.

Choc ‘fun fact’ is he's ambidextrous, is able to write with both hands fluidly yet naturally born a leftie and has a better preference for it. 

Choc's the type of person who will talk about his trauma in a almost positively cheerful way, brushing it off as a joke he could laugh at now while anyone around him is highly uncomfortable and concerned by

^ Although at first, his advice would come out as helpful, if some were to really think deeper into what he says, it's far from so. It's one that's twisted up by trauma under the fatherly guise of ‘knowing what's best’ for people. 

Tw/Tags: Heavy Angst, Whump, Graphic Child Abuse/Neglect, Corporal Punnishments, Physical Abuse, Verbal Insults, Dehumanizing Language, Abusive Familial Relationships, & Implied Religious Themes 

1967: Choc, 11yo & Candy, 66yo

On the ground, curled up in a tight little ball, Choc's wheezing, his good eye not swollen shut is fixated to the wall ahead. Breathing ragged he stayed still, emotionless, crying won't protect him. Soon thereafter he goes imaging happy thoughts, more a sweetened escape from cruel reality until it breaks apart by the fantastical seams once he hears her voice. 

“Get up you inept brat” 

It's what kept him relatively sane for the most part. Until his grandmother hovers above his twisted little form with clear disdain. The ugly sneer on her wrinkled face, her strong french accent clipped in impatience at his sorry state, and gloved fists tells him it was far from over. 

“G-grammy… Please” 

A harsh scoff and her cold hand pinch around the back of his neck, immediately it shuts him up. Choc should've known better than to talk back, past experiences such as this reminds him as only pain will come to him if he chose to be stubborn. When he's made to stand on unsteady feet, nearly buckling under him, he does feel himself sway a little. Though that is when the backhanded slap across his face on the good side, not yet badly bruised such as with the other, elicits a startled gasp. 

“How many times do I have to remind you to not be so careless? To not speak unless you are spoken to?” 

Wincing at the sting freshly blossoming in his round cheeks, Choc swallowed back the pain, silently nodding along. Best not to show what hurts, always better to tough out, pray that it won't be too bad. Last time around the age of six, stupidly having been brought up through heavy wails, he was in pain and couldn't feel his legs. His grandmother decided to give him a plentiful amount of lashes on his back, on each corresponding limb, and left him to sleep in the mess that's meshed with his tears, snot, and other ungodly bodily fluids. 

After a while the punishments, getting severe with each passing year, eventually do tend to blur together. Is it bad he stopped caring or rather no longer felt a thing?

Choc pushed it back to the recess of his mind. 

“I shouldn't be expecting anything highly from you, should I?” 

Once again the boy responds mutely, keeping his gaze locked on the ground, fingers digs in the old unwashed shirt worn daily, smelling of rotting stink. She barely allows him to clean in the idea he was at fault for his messy disarray so he shouldn't be rewarded with cleanliness or anything remotely caring. Unless he pleads his case to her, pathetically miserable it may be to earn her forgiveness which would never be granted, he still does it and will do chores galore, even if it would last from dawn to dusk to do all. But desperation called upon so, he'll work down to the bone, exhausted terribly he can sleep anywhere. 

“You're a freakish imp in disguise of the devil's making. How can I be so blind not to see this. Your underhanded antics and cynical attitude” She rambled in vile anger. “What you wrote to deface me, our family and over what we believe” 

This whole (one-sided) argument and physical discourse started because the elderly woman had taken note of his left hand at work, writing in a little journal in his room. A raggedy book yellowing in aged use was his only safe place to scribble away his inner worries. She read it, every page detailing his feelings, his thoughts on her, the family's fight over social standing, and the religion she prayed on her knees so rigorously over. Now it's been torn to shreds and he was beat for it. 

“What you wrote was deplorable. Sinful. You don't dare begin to understand and know what I've done for you and your sister to be where we are now” While the woman firmly persists, her wide frame easily shadows his who's back is pressed flat against the wall. “You shall be thankful you are here in the first place, to be at mercy you aren't completely feeble such as with your mother. If it wasn't for our holiness, you wouldn't be a thing” 

Choc curled away, his shaky hands clenched to fists, fighting the weak urge to cry, took this as a cue to speak, “I'm sorry” 

“And what did I tell you, boy, about using your left hand?”

His right protectively covered the left hand, his cheeks were lit on the fire of shame. “I-I don't like writing with my right hand… It's. It's was un-u-uncomfortable” 

“Give me your left hand” She orders, given no room for argument yet Choc resists, laying his left hand deep into his chest. “Now” 

“I-I forget! Please!”  

No matter what he says or goes to do, she is quicker to grab him by the ear, neck, arm, or in this case, his matted blond hair. Then she went for his left arm and got roughly yanked behind him, Choc for sure heard the bone in his shoulder pop. A pained hiss presses out his clenched teeth when she decides to throw his thin body on the nearest table. He faintly hears past the ringing in his ears, the rattling of a chest drawer open, she's in a desperate search for something. The tingling ache in his limp arm already tells him she dislocated it, he panics over the realization. Breath caught in his throat Choc squeezes his eyes shut.

Though in hesitancy, he cracks one eye open a smidge to see what his grandmother literally brought to the table, being a long slender stick made from smooth metal. Anxiously switching his blurry sight to his left hand as it lays on the table, palm flat on the bumpy oak surface. 

“You made me do this. Take this as a learning experience as it hurts me more than it will for you” 

Eventually Choc is pulled away from the table, his free hand, his right, the proper respectable one, grips the corner for dear life. In a sudden he was close to doubling over, bruised knees knocking together, almost giving out once the metal hits skin. Not his left hand but instead it is directed at back, likely used as a sly tactic to surprise him to alertness. She knows the boy slips into another state of mind. 

“I want you to at least be conscious with me to learn your lesson. So stand up proper, I ask of you to keep your eyes on the wall and repeat to me the number of lashes I give you” 

With a shake of the head, tremors is what it's called, Choc simply does what's asked of him, straightens his slumped posture and he blinks away the tears. Arm outstretched, hand ready to take the lashes, he steadies himself to take the punishments given. Rather he should be thankful she's merciful to primarily give his left hand and back the treatment. Although having been beaten to an inch of his life, she can no doubt be crueler about it. 

“O-One!” 

Voice cracks to an inhuman pitch which Choc grew embarrassed by, biting down at his lips hard enough to bleed. Grandma Candy is at his side, hearing his groggy whines with keen precision, no considerations, and it earns him another hit. This time, probably miscalculated, though it wouldn't really take him by surprise if it wasn't, she aims for his upper arm, a sliver of a long cut slashed across his forearm. 

“Two!” He calls out. Then another two right after. “Three! Four!” 

Soon he loses count. Mind went cloudy with time and intensity. However she won't lighten up. All Choc knows is how his voice follows in repeating the number of lashes the metal ruler gives him. Musky sweat profusely seeped out cut pores, the sour scent lingers heavy in the air. 

In due time, she tires herself out, her old body can't keep up as it once was in her younger years. 

Choc heaves a broken sigh, unable to pull his locked gaze from the wall. 

Whatever his poor ailing mother had to deal with when she was alive, in her own childhood must've been ten times worse so he doesn't think harder on it. He wanted to do his best to preserve a positive memory of his mother and not sully himself into the idea his treatment was worse than hers. 

“Do you apologize and reap for what you sow with bad intentions?” 

“Yes, I have” Choc stumbled a little. Left hand was swollen and bruised like a bad fruit. Any movement whether small or big, even with an involuntary twitch caused him to wince. Likely the bruises will last for a couple weeks and he can take it in if it's broken. Either way he isn't looking forward to anything in the future. The side eyed glares and his need to give them half baked excuses. 

“Good. You do realize I do this for you to learn that you can't keep biting the hand that feeds and cares for you? One day and it always will return to slap you back down to the fiery pits of hell” 

As she dutifully promised he wouldn't be able to write as well as any remaining sinful deeds with said hand. It took a longer period for him to get remotely accustomed to using his right hand; it still was like a chainsaw to butter but he got there to garner less scrutiny. 

[carco5a]

hai. top 5 westerns 🤠?

oh i forgot i had these to answer from last night!!! ok so according to my letterboxd my top 5 goes something like this based on my actual ratings

1. the big gundown (1967) (more people should see the big gundown kiss kiss the big gundown i love you)

2. for a few dollars more (1965) (my favorite dollars trilogy entry)

3. the good the bad and the ugly (1968)

4. butch cassidy and the sundance kid (1969)

5. a tie between tombstone (1993) and unforgiven (1992)

SPECIAL MENTIONS: sabata (1969) which is not “good” but is delightful and has a guy with a banjo that’s also a gun; true grit (2010) which i dont have logged in my letterboxd but was the first western i watched as an adult; and death rides a horse (1967) because lee van cleef looks so much like a long lost uncle of mine in this one i got scared and had a dark night of the soul about the future of my own testosterone hairline. i am now much more self actualized about my hairline because of this movie thank you lee van cleef.

the man who shot liberty valance (1962) i also gave 4.5 stars to on letterboxd but because i find john wayne just kind of personally repulsive it will never rank in my top 5 even if i know its Good.

[scribblescrabbledepartment]

summer movie log many rewatches many first times

[ID: a page covered in receipts, chopstick wrappers, and scraps of paper. written on the scraps of paper are the titles of numerous movies, and a label says "summer 2023."]

titles under the cut

Curse of the Demon (1957) Renfield (2023) Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) Count Dracula (1977) Short Circuit (1986) Apocalypse Now (1979) Dracula (1979) The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) The Graduate (1967) Bram Stoker's Van Helsing (2021) THX 1138 (1971) Ghoulies (1984) The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966) Dog Day Afternoon (1975) Burn After Reading (2008) From Dusk Till Dawn (1996) Ghoulies II (1987) Pulp Fiction (1994) Van Helsing (2004) The Uninvited (1944) Quadrophenia (1979) The Blues Brothers (1980) Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979) Pee-wee's Big Adventure (1985) In the Heat of the Night (1967) Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) Dracula: Dead and Loving It (1995) Westworld (1973) The Muppet Movie (1979) Bara no Konrei ~Mayonaka ni Kawashita Yakusoku~ (2001) The Devil's Advocate (1997) The Conversation (1974) Dracula: Pages from a Virgin's Diary (2002) Dracula's Curse (2002) The Deer Hunter (1978) The Vulture's Eye (2004) Dracula (2006)

[schlock-luster-video]

On December 29, 1967, The Good the Bad and the Ugly debuted in the United States.