The Sicilian

Michael Cimino – 1987 – USA
 

No need to re-hash the notorious crash-and-burn that was Michael Cimino’s career.  He is not only resigned to history as an indulgent egomaniac who shot himself in the foot a mere couple of years after bringing home Oscars for The Deer Hunter (1978), but he is also frequently accused of playing the part of the scapegoat required by the studio system to reclaim its stranglehold on Hollywood from the movie brat generation and usher in the era of the popcorn blockbuster.  That’s a little simplistic, of course, but not without merit.  Anyway, one would like to think that some distance and perspective would make Cimino’s post-70s films seem far better than contemporary critics declared.  That’s certainly the case with the unfairly condemned Heaven’s Gate (1980), but not The Sicilian.  It really does suck.  Supposedly, Cimino himself sabotaged it rather than make any attempt to cooperate with the demands of the producers.  This was foolish and short-sighted.  Ridley Scott with Blade Runner (1982) and Terry Gilliam with Brazil (1985) experienced much the same headaches, (to heart-breaking and career-damaging degrees in Gilliam’s case), but they each were able to persuade the suits to allow a “director’s cut” to also be released, either theatrically or on home video; both of which are now regarded as the definitive versions.  If Cimino really believed in his film, he should have made provisions to restore it at some future date rather than merely ruin it like an angry toddler knocking down a sandcastle to keep other kids from helping to build it.  Why Cimino felt French lug Christopher Lambert would be good as the rural Italian outlaw Salvatore Giuliano remains a total mystery.  Amid murky, annoyingly sepia-toned cinematography – (obviously intended to recall the “young Vito” sequences from The Godfather, Part II, also adapted from a Mario Puzo novel) – a bunch of unrelated, confusing and dull actions play out, featuring actors with puzzled and blank expressions.  Only Terrence Stamp comes off with any aplomb, and I feel safe in saying that’s attributable entirely to the talent of Stamp himself than to Cimino.