CREEM ONLINE: The Good, The Bad And The Ugly v. Showgirls

The Good, The Bad And The Ugly
Special Edition DVD
2004 MGM

If you’re the kind of romantic who was sorely disappointed that the song "Angel Eyes" on Roxy Music’s Manifesto album wasn’t about Lee Van Cleef’s malevolent character (The Bad) in this, the third and best episode of Italian director Sergio Leone’s legendary spaghetti western trilogy, then you no doubt already have a well-worn copy of The Good, The Bad And The Ugly in your collection.

But if you don’t have a copy of MGM’s new two disc special edition, then you haven’t seen the whole picture as Leone originally released it in 1966 before United Artists hacked its length for the North American release. Completely restored to its original running time of three hours—including new, never before heard dialogue recently recorded by surviving actors Clint Eastwood (The Good) and Eli Wallach (The Ugly)—The Good, The Bad And The Ugly reclaims its rightful status as Leone’s first magnificent and majestic sprawling epic.

This time around, the moral center of the movie, Eastwood’s enigmatic character Blondie, plays wry straight man to Wallach’s manic gold-digger Tuco, thus creating a delightful dynamic which both actors reflect on in one of the new documentaries which grace the second disc. And although Van Cleef isn’t around anymore to bask in the glory, his uncanny, almost unearthly, commending presence on the screen more than makes up for his conspicuous absence. And yes, despite Van Cleef’s being dead, even Angel Eyes gets the benefit of newly recorded dialogue for the film. Which just goes to show that you can’t keep a Bad man down.

So if you’ve seen this Civil War romp before—even if you know it off by heart—then you owe yourself the pleasure of witnessing this new much longer definitive director’s cut, with all the narrative gaps you’ve never seen before filled in. And if you only know Ennio Morricone’s landmark soundtrack from Metallica’s use of "The Ecstasy Of Gold" at the beginning of their concerts or on their S&M album, then boy are you ever in for a treat.

One for my baby, and one more for the pole.

Showgirls
Special Limited Edition V.I.P. Box Set DVD
2004 MGM

We were sitting in the lounge of the MGM Grand last week having a late night CREEM editorial meeting, during the course of which we proceeded to get suitably faced while discussing the relative merits of what we deemed to be the all time sleaze dé là sleaze of what the ancient Pervovians call Luro Sexo Cinema. After a very spirited (100% wood grain) discussion which included the unsolicited advice of the blowsy barmaid and the unexpected added input from a nice pair of double D divorcée flight attendant twins in town on a stopover (the Doe sisters, Bambi and Tawni), we came up with the following top five list, presented here in descending order:

(5) Coffee, Tea or Me; (4) Mondo Topless; (3) Caligula; (2) Myra Breckenridge; (1) Showgirls.

CEO-MFIC Robert Matheu was the first to notice that Gore Vidal had the dubious distinction of having authored two of the top five films, numbers 2 and 3. "Why don’t we get him to write some record reviews?" he muttered.

"No, we need to get Eszterhas!" I countered.

"Esther who?" puzzled Matheu.

"Joe Eszterhas! Not only did he write the script for director Paul Verhoeven’s Showgirls, he also wrote Basic Instinct as well. You can’t get any sleazier than that."

Just then, in one of those rare synchronistic coincidences that only happen in a Penthouse letters column, another lovely lissome lass by the name of Cheri suddenly bounced in and bosomed up to the bar. "Someone seeking sleaze?" she said with an alliterative grin. "Well, I’ve got a big box of sleaze for you right down here!"

Before the MFIC could even begin to think about lowering his head, she seductively zipped open her tightly packed overnight bag and pulled out the new Special Limited Edition V.I.P. Showgirls DVD box set. Sensuously slitting the shrink wrap with a crimsoned talon, Cheri emptied the contents on the bar and took inventory:

"Two shot glasses; a deck of playing cars; a blindfold; a pair of red tasseled suction cup pasties; a glossy life size nude poster; a set of illustrated sex game instructions; and, of course, a brand new digital master DVD of the greatest stripper film of all time—complete with extra ‘bone us’ educational features including graphic gyration lessons from the pole vaulters at New York’s infamous watering hole, Scores!

"So…" Cheri coyly cooed with heaving chesty abandon, twirling one of the suction cups. "Anybody wanna play Pin The Pasties On The Peeler?"

"Whereza…handcuffs?" the MFIC slurred as he shook the empty box.

"Y’know, I actually paid to see Showgirls when it first ran in the theatres," I fondly recalled. "Even back then I knew that it was a singularly unique event in the history of cinema that would not only create an entire genre, but give hope to an entire generation of single women seeking to empower themselves and better their lives in world ruthlessly run by men."

"That…what you just said…is so…beautiful," Cheri said, sliding her rack closer. "Nomi Malone was my role model when I was growing up in Des Moines," she whispered breathlessly. "Just like her, I also wanted to hitch a ride to Vegas and become the hottest lap dancer in the business, so I did—and here I am!"

"I’ve never seen Showgirls," Tawni sadly confessed. "Is it better than Flashdance?"

"What, are you kidding?" I exclaimed, getting up and grabbing the DVD. "It’s so good they should have called it Fleshdance instead! Why, the catfights between Elizabeth Berkley and Gina Gershon are worth the price of admission alone! Come on, let’s all go up to my suite and watch it," I said, leading them out of the lounge. "Then afterwards, we’ll check out how Scores girls give the ultimate nude lap dance."

"But what about…?" Bambi said, glancing back at the MFIC as we got into an elevator.

"Oh don’t worry about him," I said. "He’s a professional. By the way, did you know that Joe Eszterhas also wrote Flashdance?"

I pushed the PH button and as the elevator door closed, I thought for a moment that I could still hear his voice echoing into the empty box:

"…hand… cuffs…"