After Robert Rodriguez burst onto the scene with the ultra-low-budget “El Mariachi” and followed it up with the slightly more polished “Desperado,” comparisons to Sergio Leone’s early spaghetti Westerns were inevitable. Just as Leone transitioned from smaller films like “A Fistful of Dollars” and “For a Few Dollars More” to grand epics such as “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly” and “Once Upon a Time in the West,” Quentin Tarantino suggested Rodriguez should take the leap and create his own epic with “Once Upon a Time in Mexico.” For a relatively modest $30 million, in action movie terms, Rodriguez did just that.
Much like Leone’s iconic Westerns, “Once Upon a Time in Mexico” prioritizes impactful moments, striking visuals, surprising twists, and intense close-ups over a tightly woven narrative. Both directors share a penchant for operatic scores that amplify heroism and tragedy, painting their stories with vibrant, bold colors. Sensational action sequences are also a hallmark; where Clint Eastwood might dispatch three foes with a single bullet, Salma Hayek’s character effortlessly takes down four with a flurry of knives. In a previous review of “Desperado,” the technical brilliance and raw energy of Rodriguez were lauded, but the narrative structure was found wanting in emotional investment.
This observation remains relevant in “Once Upon a Time in Mexico.” However, the film’s sheer entertainment value largely compensates for any narrative shortcomings. The overarching plot is discernible, the characterizations are bold and memorable, and the self-aware camerawork consistently amuses. Rodriguez isn’t afraid to let the camera be a character itself, drawing attention to its own movements and perspectives.
In a film like this, the actors embody their roles with an immediate presence. While flashbacks offer glimpses into their pasts, these serve to explain their motivations, not necessarily to fully define their personalities. With a stellar cast led by Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek, and Johnny Depp, and supported by talents like Ruben Blades, Eva Mendes, Willem Dafoe, and Mickey Rourke, Rodriguez has an arsenal of compelling faces, physiques, and personalities to command the screen. Banderas channels Eastwood’s stoic intensity, Hayek radiates fiery passion, and Johnny Depp delivers a performance that’s uniquely…Depp-esque, perhaps hinting at the eccentric energy he brought to “Pirates of the Caribbean.” The plot loosely follows the events of the preceding films, once again featuring El Mariachi as a musician with a deadly side gig (demonstrated early on when he readies his guitar like a weapon). While recalling every detail from the earlier movies isn’t crucial, the core is that El Mariachi (Banderas) is in a state of self-imposed isolation, grieving the loss of his wife Carolina (Hayek) and their daughter.
Enter Depp, portraying a somewhat enigmatic CIA operative, who enlists El Mariachi’s skills with the aid of a chatty bartender (Cheech Marin). Depp’s mission for El Mariachi is to thwart a plot against the President orchestrated by the ruthless drug lord Barrillo (Dafoe). Mickey Rourke adds to the film’s quirky ensemble, his character carrying a small dog and exuding menace, hinting at a capacity for sharper dialogue than the script ultimately provides. It serves as a reminder of Rourke’s potential for leading roles.
Visually, the film is packed with striking sequences, none more so than the exhilarating scene where Banderas and Hayek, bound together, escape a high-rise apartment. Their escape involves a daring rappel down the building, a visually inventive and thrilling moment.
Rodriguez stands out as a modern filmmaking auteur, often handling multiple roles in his productions. His credits for “Once Upon a Time in Mexico” list him as the “chopped, shot and scored” artist, in addition to writing and directing. He also personally operated the then-new Sony 24-fps digital Hi-Def camera. Despite reservations about digital cinematography and a preference for celluloid’s aesthetic, the film’s visual quality is undeniable. Whether due to camera advancements or improved digital projection, the image is remarkably bright, crisp, and detailed. While perhaps a tad too sharp compared to the tactile softness of film, it represents a significant leap in digital filmmaking, surpassing even Rodriguez’s own “Spy Kids 2” in visual fidelity. (The 3D aspects of “Spy Kids 3-D” made direct visual comparisons less relevant). Underlying all of Rodriguez’s work is an infectious enthusiasm for the craft of filmmaking itself. From his childhood home movies to the breakthrough success of “Desperado,” and still only 35 at the time of this film, his passion is evident.
Rodriguez himself emphasizes the ease and freedom digital filmmaking provides for him and his actors – eliminating concerns over lighting and film stock, fostering experimentation and spontaneity. “Once Upon a Time in Mexico” sometimes feels like it’s being made on the fly, yet it’s precisely this improvisational energy that fuels its visual dynamism. While whether this method lends itself to deeply intricate narratives remains debatable, it’s clear that Rodriguez’s primary interest lies elsewhere: in the pure, unadulterated joy of creating moving images.
