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
1989: Judah Rosenthal (Martin Landau) Crimes and Misdemeanors, Bastard
Woody Allen is mostly known, and often decried, for making his own points, using thinly-veiled, self-played characters as vehicles for his ideas. But in his great ’80s works, mostly notably Crimes and Misdemeanors and Hannah & Her Sisters, those Allen avatars are distinctly background characters, second in focus to men with entirely different systems of thinking. Like Michael Caine’s Elliot in Hannah, Judah Rosenthal (Martin Landau) is a man untroubled by the mysteries of the universe, free from guilt, neuroses and distress. Instead he concerns himself with more immediate problems, like an out of control mistress who’s threatening to bring down his entire carefully constructed life.
This is a life where appearances play an important role. By all accounts, Judah seems like a good man, a loving father, a devoted dentist. But by letting his mobster brother, assuredly a bad person, do his dirty work, rubbing out the mistress to assure the sanctity of his routine, he enters the realm of bastardhood without doing anything directly immoral, a condition he exacerbates by forgiving himself within months. When he and Allen’s character finally meet in a climactic wedding scene, their conversation plays out as the director confronting the chaotic unfairness of the world, a place where devout rabbis go blind, geniuses walk out of windows and scumbag dentists get away with murder. - Jesse Cataldo
1990: Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci) Goodfellas, Bastard
Tommy DeVito earns the death he’s given. You might even go so far as to say the word “deserves” – Scorsese frames the death from above, as if we were God himself, smiting him from this Earth. If Goodfellas is all French New Wave, a violent gangster epic as Truffaut might have envisioned it (although much colder than he may have dramatized it), then this scene is a little patch of German Expressionism in the middle of our freewheeling, all long-cast shadows and black and white squares, angles and darkness. For one second we’ve all realized at once that this is no ordinary man, it’s the creature from The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari, and Tommy DeVito gets a monster’s death.
Tommy’s not a creature, though. He’s a human-monster, the kind that carries ambiguities that can’t be readily reconciled; Tommy DeVito contains multitudes. He loves his mother (though it seems he hates women); he can make you laugh just as much as he can freak you out. His fearsomeness has nothing to do with his size and everything to do with the believability of his menace – the infamous scene where he confronts Henry Hill (Ray Liotta) for laughing (“I’m funny how, like I’m a clown, I’m here to amuse you?”) goes from being funny to scary to funny again within the scope of just a couple minutes. Even Tommy’s sense of humor leads him to remind you that he’ll kill you without much hesitation, his trigger finger is so twitchy that in the instant it would have taken Jimmy Conway (Robert DeNiro) to clarify to him that he was joking about killing a wisecracking bartender, Tommy just goes ahead and does it. “I don’t give a fuck. What is it, the first hole I dug?” - Andrei Alupului
1991: Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton) Terminator 2: Judgment Day, Badass
Terminator 2: Judgment Day is all about taking defining elements from the original film and making them more badass. The action scenes are bigger and more spectacular. The killer robot from the future is now made of liquid and has arms that turn into giant blades. The climax happens at a steel mill full of molten metal, sparks and chains instead of some factory that makes computer chips. Also, Arnold Schwarzenegger rides a motorcycle. However, most badass of all is Sarah Connor herself.
Never has there been a more shocking character transformation in cinema than that of Sarah Connor. Gone are the gigantic ’80s perm and doe-eyed terror that defined Linda Hamilton’s mousy character from The Terminator — whose major moments of agency include pressing a button and letting a time traveler have sex with her. During the 11 years between the two films, she’s managed to transform herself into a hardened super soldier — a sinewy lunatic with a sensible ponytail who has spent more than a decade committing crimes and blowing up computer factories to save your future. It’s a shame everyone that ever lived saw Terminator 2 first so we never quite feel the impact of the great reveal when Linda Hamilton is locked up in a mental hospital, stabbing orderlies with pens and shrieking about the doomed future.
Never forget that, for all of the pull-ups, cigar smoking and one-handed shotgun blasts, Sarah Connor is a mother, maintaining a fidelity to her parental duties to her son John, who she raises by teaching him how to battle robots in a future cluttered with the debris of apocalypse. Sarah Connor is the ultimate overprotective mother, nearly crazed in keeping safe not only her son, but the future of the entire human race. And that makes her really badass. - Danny Djeljosevic
1992: Mr. Blonde (Michael Madsen) Reservoir Dogs, Bastard
Quentin Tarantino has always had a deep appreciation for characters that are outright bastards, partially out of his profound interest in the pulpier ’70s films and partially out of a seeming obsession with all things seedy. It only took the director one film to create one of cinema’s most disturbing characters in Reservoir Dogs’s Mr. Blonde, a dark send-off of the cinematic staple of the overly zealous tough guy.
Structured around the events before and after a heist gone wrong, Reservoir Dogs never gives the viewer the sense that its characters are going to make it out alive. But within the film, the only person who seems to know this is Mr. Blonde, who views his impending doom as a chance to stop holding back and just let his psychotic tendencies free. Worse, the collapse of the heist is directly a result of Mr. Blonde going off the rails and opening fire on the cops that interrupt it before fleeing.
Of course, Michael Madsen’s wonderfully deranged performance is remembered for the film’s most intense scene, a tensely paced torture session Mr. Blonde subjects a cop he has kidnapped to. As “Stuck in the Middle With You” plays ominously in the background, Mr. Blonde takes his time with his victim, like a cat toying with a mouse, gleefully subjecting the cop to taunts and letting him know just how much joy Mr. Blonde gets out of torture before lopping the guy’s ear off. Like a true bastard, Mr. Blonde doesn’t even have any real reason to be torturing the officer, it’s just something he likes to do. - Morgan Davis
1993: Amon Goeth (Ralph Fiennes) Schindler’s List, Bastard
From Orson Welles (The Stranger) to Christoph Waltz (Inglourious Basterds), Nazis have made for terrific movie villains. After all, everybody hates them; well, except other Nazis. Spielberg used them as somewhat cartoonish villains in two of the Indiana Jones films, but in the Oscar-winning Schindler’s List, he presented them as evil and remorseless, exemplified by the camp commandant, a real figure named Amon Goeth- the breakout role for Ralph Fiennes. Putting memories of Indy’s Nazis easily defeated to rest, Goeth is terrifyingly believable, all the more so because Fiennes coolly underplays him. When he’s first introduced, he’s not screaming at Jews or goose stepping, but slumped in the back of a convertible, from which he quietly complains, “Ja, why is the top down? I’m fuckin’ freezing.” His petulance and calm make his deeds all the more monstrous. He never really seems to relish killing Jews, it’s just what he does, as if to compensate for the hollowness inside. In one of the most memorable and disturbing scenes, he strolls out onto his balcony, shirt off and gut hanging out, and starts to pick off prisoners at random with his rifle. In a great actor-y touch, Fiennes puts down his cigarette on the rail and then picks up with his mouth. What’s horrible about all the murders is how arbitrary they are, how unmotivated they are. Yet he’s not an over the top villain, but, rather, a deeply flawed and human character, with a weakness for liquor, bribes and women. There is no shortage of powerful images and characters in the film, but Goeth is the character, both repellent and fascinating, who sticks with me and the final act is noticeably slacker without his malevolent, chilling presence. - Lukas Sherman
1994: Bridget Gregory (Linda Fiorentino) The Last Seduction, Bitch
Ah, femme fatale- is there any term that’s more synonymous with bitch? And lest that sound sexist, keep in mind that Bridget Gregory (Linda Fiorentino), the sociopathic protagonist of The Last Seduction, laughingly declares herself a bitch while hammering on the ceiling of a car. While getting hammered in it.
The Last Seduction opens with a scene perfectly sketching Gregory (or Wendy Kroy, as she’ll soon dub herself); clad in a sharp, monochromatic suit, she berates and curses a room full of telemarketers, belittling one for not asking for the sale four times. After swiping a bag full of cash from husband Bill Pullman (the gains of a pharmaceutical cocaine sale), she splits town and takes up with a ludicrously pea-brained country boy (Peter Berg). Think it turns out well for him? Back-alley sex, hidden secrets and a little bit of murder later, our femme fatale manages to turn every situation, no matter how dire, to her advantage, no matter what the cost. Ice water has more sympathy than Bridget Gregory. Played with a wry, cutting sense of humor underneath her immaculate collection of outfits, she’s a bitch down to the core. And best of all for her, she gets away with it. - Nathan Kamal
1995: William Wallace (Mel Gibson) Braveheart, Badass
Despite the plethora of historical inaccuracies that plague its lengthy execution, Braveheart is a defining film in the badass cannon. Think what you will of Mel Gibson, but I defy you to name another flowing-haired, skirt-sporting medieval warrior with the inspirational strength and sex appeal to match his rendition of legendary Scottish rebel William Wallace. As a boy, Wallace witnesses the death of his father, brother and fellow clansmen at the hands of King Edward II of England’s soldiers. He returns to his village years later, an educated man intent upon marrying his childhood love and living in peace; but when the local tyranny of King Edward’s soldiers culminates in the ruthless execution of his beautiful wife Murron (Catherine McCormack), Wallace’s vengeful passion transforms him into an inspirational crusader for Scottish freedom. As Wallace, Gibson trades on some classic badass clichés — quick-witted and single-handed destruction of over a dozen men at a time, brilliant battle tactics that allow the outmatched underdogs to prevail, a soft-spoken but deadly seductive effect on the ladies and so on. But unlike many of his macho cohorts within the cannon, Wallace doesn’t simply waltz out of harm’s way unscathed. His suffering is his strength and his curse: for while it bolsters his own belief in the cause, as well as that of his men (and inspires the sympathy, lust and aid of Edward’s daughter-in-law Princess Isabelle, played by Sophie Marceau), it also makes him emotionally susceptible. Wallace’s fervent and irrepressible hope repeatedly lands him in traitorous hands, and ultimately seals his doom as a martyr to Scottish independence in one of the most disturbingly graphic torture scenes in cinema history. He may not live to see his country win its freedom; but that’s because he’s not a superhero or a meathead tough guy – and he’s not above accepting the same fate that befell his fallen men. Wallace’s humanity inspires the passion and loyalty that in turn grant him courage, strength, and triumph in battle. He is, in true Scottish fashion, a “poet warrior;” and what’s more, he makes a kilt look like the manliest outfit around. In short, he’s a badass for the books. - Lauren Westerfield
1996: Francis Begbie (Robert Carlyle) Trainspotting, Bastard/Badass
B stands for a lot of things: Badass, Bastard, Begbie. One of the supporting cast of Irvine Welsh’s Scottish heroin mishmash, Trainspotting, Francis Begbie becomes a icon in Danny Boyle’s 1996 film adaptation through sheer force of will, terror and greasiness. Played by character actor Robert Carlyle (with an awful mustache) as a chain-smoking thug who looks down on his junkie chums for their addictions, while casually (and constantly) swilling from pints himself, he’s the kind of bastard who’d glass a random girl because he doesn’t have a place to set his drink, or the kind of guy who curses out a woman for poor parenting when her heroin-addicted dope of a son is sent to prison. Or, the kind of person who sets up a drug deal at one of his best friend’s funeral and when called out on it, just sneers away the j’accuse.
But there’s something too awful not to admire about Begbie. He’s too violent to really have motives or desires, only actions that only seem to finally end with consequences in the final scene of the film. Perhaps it’s that Begbie doesn’t seem to give a shit about anything or anyone…and that’s something that we can all admit is somewhere between badass and bastard. - Nathan Kamal
1997: Chad (Aaron Eckhart) In The Company of Men, Bastard
White-collar villainy is pretty familiar to most of us these days. But in Neil LaBute’s black comedy In The Company of Men, misogynistic middle manager Chad (Aaron Eckhart) twists corporate sleaze into something creepier than greed-induced manipulation. LaBute’s film follows supposed friends Chad and Howard (Matt Malloy) as they ship out for a six-week stint at a remote branch office. Milquetoast Howard, already insecure after the messy end of a failed relationship, is frazzled at the prospect of authority over his first major deal; and Chad, after commiserating with Howard about the mess women have made of their personal lives and corporate boy’s club, suggests that they amuse themselves over the course of the assignment by getting even with womankind. With a delighted matter-of-factness that shocks (and intimidates) Howard, Chad explains his plan: the two men will zero in on a vulnerable and lonely girl, simultaneously romance her until she’s fallen in love, then dump her and disappear without a trace. As we watch Chad and Howard working their prey — a lovely and naïve deaf secretary named Christine (Stacy Edwards) — it becomes increasingly clear that Howard is in over his head…and that Chad, brimming with smug confidence and competitive aggression, has been anticipating Howard’s meltdown all along. Within the first five minutes of this film, we know that Chad is a prize dick; yet Eckhart’s wholesome good looks and convincing shtick with Christine leave us guessing, even hoping at times for a romantic-comedy-style redemption. Still, LaBute’s bleak office backdrop and oxymoronic, primal drums-driven score remind us that this company of men is a sinister place; and when Chad’s manipulation of both Howard and Christine, his zeal for destroying susceptible people “because he can ” comes to light – well, lets just say that simply deeming him a bastard suddenly seems like one hell of an understatement. - Lauren Westerfield
1998: Walter Sobchak (John Goodman) The Big Lebowski, Badass/Bastard
The Coen Brothers’ The Big Lebowkski is a movie that flirts with so many styles that it’s only fitting that it spawn one of the most unique characters of recent memory- the Dude’s best friend, bodyguard and trouble starter, Walter Sobchak. Walter is a Vietnam veteran, and if you didn’t know it by looking at him, you’d hear it soon enough, as he is just as excitable and rough around the edges as the stereotype suggests.
Any action or statement that he deems a trespass is met with swift and decisive overreaction. Walter is quick to cite his time sticking his hand into his buddy’s face and fighting for freedom, and he is also a devout converted Jew, from a previous marriage. When he discovers that a league game has been scheduled for the Shabbos- he rants and raves until the date is changed, citing his religious conviction as well as his time in Khe Sahn.
It seems like his only pastimes are bowling, outbursting and running a private security store. Walter is excitable and stubborn, but he can also walk the walk. When confronted in a parking lot by sword-wielding nihilists, Walter’s pride forces him to stand his ground while his buddies cower. Walter proceeds to manhandle all three nihilists, including biting one’s ear off and wrecking another with a bowling ball. Perhaps his most notorious moment is when he spots a fellow bowler accidentally foul, and the argument escalates to drawing his gun to make sure that the score is marked correctly. Most people would not take that issue so seriously, but for Walter, it’s a matter of principle. The Dude abides, but Walter Sobchak does not. - Rafael Gaitain
[Logos: Jason Stoff]
