For the next entry in our Year by Year series, I proposed a list of Best Villain Death scenes. This idea proved problematic because what we would have, in effect, is an entire list of spoilers. So we went back to the drawing board for the next Year by Year feature. However, that idea of bad guys still appealed to me.
There is nothing like alliteration. The dearly departed musician Vic Chesnutt called it the "spice of life." So as a death list of villains went out the window, it morphed into a list of Bitches, Bastards and Badasses.
Some of the more interesting characters in our filmic history fall into one of these categories. Do people really like the sweet and straitlaced Dorothy? Fuck no, it's the Wicked Witch that runs away with The Wizard of Oz. I am pleased to present this new feature as we celebrate the biggest Bitches, Badasses the cinema world has thrown at us. - David Harris
1979: Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando), Apocalypse Now, Badass
What makes one character a bastard and the other a badass? Is a bastard labeled as such simply because he's on a different side than the one we're meant to root for? Is a badass just a confident, aggressive alpha male or should he have more philosophical motives? These questions are especially important in the context of one of cinema's most complicated, enduring figures: Apocalypse Now's Colonel Kurtz.
Considered to be one of Marlon Brando's last great performances, Kurtz is the type of character that gets inside your head in more ways than one. As a charismatic, fiercely intelligent and independent leader, Kurtz is understandably seen as an incredible danger to the military when he goes rogue. Of course, the emphasis lies in the closing of that sentence- it's only once Kurtz has gone rogue that the military grows concerned. His barbaric tactics and withdrawal from society are allowed, even complimented, as long as they bring in the numbers.
And this is where it's clear that Kurtz is squarely in the badass camp; despite the brutal methods, despite the insanity, despite the vague philosophical monologues, Kurtz's main objective is to destroy the bastards who derailed him in the first place. In the end, it may initially seem like Kurtz is defeated but the truth gradually unveils itself: Kurtz is the ultimate badass, someone who only grows more powerful in death, his influence spreading and the true motivations behind his actions imminently clear. - Morgan Davis
1980: Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson), The Shining, Bastard
Good family men are rare these days- men who stay faithful to their spouses and protect their children seem hard to find. On the other hand, bastards like Jack Torrance sometimes seem to be everywhere. The central figure of The Shining, iconic director Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of equally iconic horror writer Stephen King's cabin fever epic, Torrance (Jack Nicholson) is a struggling writer, a grudgingly repentant alcoholic and at least in once instance, a child beater. It must be admitted, though, once he, his wife (Shelley Duvall) and creepily psychic son (Danny Lloyd) relocate to the remote Overlook Hotel to serve as winter caretakers, he does his best. He tries to stay sober, he writes every day and he bitterly laments his abuse of his son.
Thing is: he fails at all of these. Whether under the "shine" of the hotel (filled with bad memories and moldering corpses as it is) or through his own weakness, he falls back into old traits with a vengeance. Given advice to "correct" his wife and child by a ghostly bartender, Torrance takes the opportunity to smash through doors with an axe and hunt his own son through a snowy labyrinth at the behest of whatever demons fill the empty lodge and his own frustrations. It's one of Nicholson's finest, most unhinged performances, perfectly capturing the slow rage of a man who's gone mad before even he realizes it. The enigmatic photograph in the final scene of The Shining shows Torrance at the Overlook in 1921, which just begs the question- was it the hotel, or was it the bastard himself? - Nathan Kamal
1981: Ash Williams (Bruce Campbell), The Evil Dead, Badass
Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead is highly regarded as one of the most influential and unique horror films of all time, as well as for reintroducing the word "groovy" to popular parlance but it also created a unique cinematic by-product: the passive badass. Few would argue that Ash progressively becomes one of the roughest, toughest characters to ever weld a chainsaw to himself, but the majority of The Evil Dead finds him as a victim. As his friends are killed off, Ash embraces his fortitude and takes the fight to the Deadites, but he does have an uphill battle.
In one of the film's most memorable scenes, Ash defeats a creature that constantly taunts him with his friends' cries, while a mounted deer head laughs at him. After he defeats it, he lays on the floor, sighing relief... until a corpuscle explodes green Deadite blood all over his face. His triumph turns into a bloodcurdling. "Oh God!" His suffering is well documented, and as it turns from agony to wailing, there is a subtle suggestion of humor, as the character contemplates what else can go wrong in his life. The average person would crumble under the pressure of such a horrifying evening, or even be one of the victims, but the mere fact that Ash takes it in stride represents his ability to kick some ass and to do so with furious aplomb. Groovy. - Rafael Gaitan
1982: Mr. Hand (Ray Walston), Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Bastard
There is a scene towards the middle of Fast Times at Ridgemont High where Jeff Spicoli (Sean Penn), already in deep trouble with teacher Mr. Hand (Ray Walston), has a pizza delivered to his classroom. Mr. Hand asks "Am I hallucinating here? Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Learning about Cuba, and having some food," Spicoli responds.
Mr. Hand then intercepts the pizza and invites the entire class to share in a slice while the broken-hearted Spicoli watches empty-handed. As a kid, I couldn't believe what a big, to use Spicoli's word, dick, Mr. Hand was. He enjoyed humiliating students, accusing his pupils of being on drugs and more or less thwarting any attempt Spicoli made to enjoy his life. However, once I grew up and spent a few years as a high school teacher myself, I noticed there were plenty of Spicolis around and quite a few curmudgeonly Mr. Hands as well. But as the Spicoli-Hand subplot wraps up, something happens that rarely occurs with many of this list's bastards: Spicoli and Mr. Hand come to an understanding. Mr. Hand visits Spicoli at home and gives him a chance to pass history. Now, would a real bastard do that? Aloha, indeed. - David Harris
1983: Tony Montana (Al Pacino), Scarface, Bastard/Badass
Is Tony Montana (Al Pacino) a bastard or a badass? That depends on how you watch Scarface. If you're in on the joke with Oliver Stone and Brian De Palma and see Scarface for the over-the-top, satirical black comedy that it seems, then Tony Montana is a bastard three feet in height that shrieks at everything that moves, whose hot-headed Napoleon complex inevitably gets him riddled with bullets that he totally had coming. Its hard to ignore Elvira, Tony's wife, always there to point out his flaws: he's not a hero; he's a guy who got rich off of dealing drugs. What's so great about that?
Odd that Scarface, perhaps in its Hollywood-ness, provides enough evidence to keep Tony Montana likable enough to stay out of the "Bastard" category. In the New York City sequence, he ends up refusing to follow through with an assassination because the target's family is present. It's the climactic shootout, however, that places Tony Montana in the "Badass" category for most viewers. It's the scene that makes the film, with the oft quoted line (I'll spare you) and the extreme violence. For fans and appreciators of violence, Tony Montana is the baddest motherfucker to ever snort a mountain of coke and then get his guts blown out from behind him. He rises to power on his own terms, without a care for anyone around him, and when an army of assassins comes to take all that away he goes out like any decent cinematic badass: in a bloody blaze of glory. - Danny Djeljosevic
1984: Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham), Amadeus, Bastard
What makes a man a bastard? Is it their actions, or their attitude? In Antonio Salieri's case, it's a little of both. Despite being a composer of international renown and holding the ear of the Emperor of Austria, Salieri (F. Murray Abraham, in an Oscar-winning role) is ruined by jealousy, simply unable to bear the fact of his own mediocrity. But if you can't rise up, you can always pull someone down, right? Salieri's animosity (and secret devotion) toward Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's seemingly divine musical skills drive the plot of Milos Forman's 1984 adaptation of Peter Shaffer's play, Amadeus. While once a devout worshiper of the wunderkind's music, Salieri's boundless rage at his comparatively lesser talents drives him to destroy the man's career, his health and ultimately, dubiously work him to death. In the meantime, he attempts to extort erotic thrills from Mozart's wife and cuts him short in Joseph II's court at every turn. His jealousy becomes so profound, he renounces God entirely for his own lack of gifts, swearing that "From now on, we are enemies."
But the worst part of Salieri's schemes is that he ultimately can never succeed in destroying Mozart. Even when the composer is buried in a paupers' mass grave, Mozart's music resounds throughout the ages and Salieri's is consigned to the ranks of the second-tier and obscure. Ultimately, the only way out for Salieri is madness. - Nathan Kamal
1985: Lady Kaede (Mieko Harada), Ran, Bitch
Lord Hidetora of the Ichimonji kingdom is getting old and wants to pass his power on to his sons, while retaining a symbolic figurehead title. Lady Kaede's (Mieko Harada) first action is to see this crack in the foundation and start hammering away at it, first planting the seed of total control in her husband's head and then allowing it to gradually develop, through his and his family's brash stupidity and stubbornness, mostly stepping back to let the fire build on its own, poking at it occasionally. In a film full of maniacs, Kaede reigns supreme, her back story helping to explain her actions at the same time as it causes the audience to flail about aimlessly in an effort to understand her sheer, unexplainable drive. Kaede is a special type of monster, the kind motivated by the pursuit of absolute vengeance. In this case, she's motivated by the loss of her family, killed over a decade earlier by members of the Ichimonji clan, after which she was married to Lord Hidetora's oldest son.
Her story gives her a sympathetic edge, even as her coldness and the overwhelming violence of her disposition, consistently unsettles and assaults throughout the film. It also prepares you by offering a sense of what's to come from her. When near the end, after castles have burned to the ground and epic battles featuring a thousand extras have raged across the screen, she so casually and dispassionately admits that she orchestrated {an entire kingdom's downfall} as revenge, the sheer insanity and depth of her dedication lights up like a flash and washes across the film: this woman's a genius. Immediately following, she dies one of the film's most spectacular deaths, a geyser of blood Jackson Pollocked across the wall, the spectacle of the moment casting into harsh relief its utter lack of consequence. - Andrei Alupului
1986: Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver), Aliens, Badass
Even in 2010 it isn't very common to find many female action heroes. In the '80s, action movies were drowning in testosterone, awash in Rambos, Dirty Harrys and Seagals, making Sigourney Weaver's Ripley all the more striking. She barley survived Alien and when she returned for James Cameron's sequel, she was a reluctant adviser who was supposed to be protected by the marines, but ended up becoming the hero. After most of the squad is wiped out in an early, disastrous battle, she becomes the de facto leader, displaying courage, intelligence, cool under pressure and the ability to deal with both Bill Paxton's freaking out ("Game over man!") and the orphaned child Newt. It's the relationship with the latter that makes Ripley more than just a kick ass alien killing machine. Ripley is not just a badass because she can fight like the guys, but also because she is fiercely protective of this child. Her feminine qualities aren't just pushed aside. As someone pointed out, Aliens is one of the best movies ever made about motherhood and the director's cut, significantly, adds a scene that mentions her dead daughter. What many remember is the final showdown where she, alone, tracks down Newt, torches scores of eggs and then goes woman to woman with the alien queen. One of the indelible scenes from '80s movies is of Ripley, outfitted in her metal armor, emerging and spitting out "Get away from her, you bitch!" The character would be brought back for two more films, but it's in this film that she's at her toughest and most fearless. - Lukas Sherman
1987: Sgt. Hartman (R. Lee Ermey), Full Metal Jacket, Bastard
It's pretty difficult to imagine a job more suited for bastards than drill instructor. The position more or less revolves around turning human beings into killing machines, forcing them to isolate themselves from all emotion and blindly follow orders. Despite this, R. Lee Ermey's legendary performance in Full Metal Jacket as Sgt. Hartman makes the job seem as desirable as being a rock star. Like some king of drill instructors, Hartman is an unhinged master of his domain, inspiring pants-wetting fear from his recruits and undoubtedly leaving them with nightmares for the rest of their lives. Nearly every line Ermey speaks is infinitely quotable and incredibly, most were ad-libbed by the actor, who spent time in the force himself. Ermey's performance is so potent that it's become the gold standard for military films.
Unsurprisingly, being a bastard has its side effects and Hartman's eventual demise is as expected as it is brutal. And yet, Hartman's death almost seems to bring pleasure to him. Faced with the nasty results of driving his worst recruit far past his breaking point, Hartman initially acts surprised that the recruit even has the spine to stand up to his drill sergeant. By the time Hartman realizes what's about to happen, his face seems to be more proud of the fact that he's forced the recruit to man up than concerned about the fact that he's about to die. What kind of bastard takes pleasure in the fact that he's made you so angry, so enraged, so belittled that you feel the only thing you can do is kill him? - Morgan Davis
1988: Otto (Kevin Kline), A Fish Called Wanda, Bastard
"Aristotle was not Belgian; the Buddhist mantra is not 'every man for himself;' and the London Underground is not a political movement." Those are mistakes - we know that. But Otto doesn't. In John Cleese and Charles Crichton's iconic crime caper A Fish Called Wanda, Kevin Kline is the obnoxiously macho Otto West, a Nietzsche-spouting, gun-slinging "weapons man" who poses as sexy con artist Wanda's brother in order to double-cross a London jewel thief (Tom Georgeson) and his animal-loving, stuttering hit man (Michael Palin). Otto and Wanda are lovers, though it's difficult to imagine why: apart from his dubious (but apparently seductive) ability to speak Italian in bed ("Mozzarella! Parmigiano! Dove il Vaticano?"), Otto is a jealous, posturing, pompous ass who never catches on to the oxymoronic nature of his passions for Buddhism, philosophy, violence and vengeance. To call Otto stupid is, as Wanda puts it, "an insult to stupid people;" but idiocy alone doesn't qualify Otto as an ultimate bastard. Rather, it is his complete inability to recognize that idiocy -- together with a zest for bravado and noisy violence - that gets him and the entire heist operation into trouble. Otto's delusions of intellectualism and superiority repeatedly land him in positions of physical power over his more appealing, infinitely more intelligent cohorts in a manner that is just completely unfair. Fortunately, when the titular Wanda (Palin's prize pet) meets her demise at Otto's reckless hand, we know that he's in for some seriously bad karma; and our collective relish of his impending doom earns him a place amongst the best of cinema's bastards. - Lauren Westerfield
[Logos: Jason Stoff]
