Burning Bridges by Amy Shindler- Theatre Review

Burning Bridges stars a woman with autism. That was what intrigued me into seeing this play, since I have Asperger's Syndrome myself.
The trouble is, the story doesn't actually centre around her.

25-year-old Sarah arrives at her sister Kate's home so she can get back on her feet after a bout of offscreen online gambling. Obsessed with Tamagotchi and One Direction to the point where she has a meltdown when both those worlds come crashing down, she turns the worlds of her sister and brother in law upside down, even though they don't make any attempt to try and understand her. Why put up fences when you can build bridges, indeed?

Sarah, who is bizarre and unique even for an autistic woman, ends up building too good of a bridge when she gets uncomfortably close with her brother in law, Dan, and invites him to a drinking game while her sister is away, inevitably causing drama between the three people. Not just tension, but drama.

It's never shown what happened between Sarah and Dan, but she claimed she was taken advantage of to cover up the truth about them.

We learn that Sarah was put in a care home when she was a child and resents Kate, whom she had previously loved, for sending her there after the death of their mother. But it turned out that their mother decided to put her in the care home and, in true Theatre 503 tradition, tries unsuccessfully to kill herself. And yet Kate and Dan dispute about whether or not the affair between himself and Sarah was consensual or not, if indeed it ever happened. Kate questions herself after Sarah reveals that she has the ability to lie.

The play revolves less around Sarah and more around Kate and Dan's relationship. Kate loses her job spending too much time looking after Sarah, who is shown to cause problems in their relationship, despite not being a bad person, just clueless about other people's feelings.

Sarah herself is interesting. She's smart, but not a savant. She has the typical autistic trait of being completely blunt and seemingly insensitive towards other people's feelings. She seems independent and together, yet is unable to take care of herself. She's surprisingly flirtatious, though it's possible that she's copying what she's seen other girls do. Her personality is almost inconsistent. It's as though Shindler knows someone who's autistic yet has not quite grasped their experiences as an autistic person, and she feels more comfortable writing about the experiences of more "normal" people. Probably due to the fact that not many autistic playwrights get their works produced.

There wasn't anywhere in the play which showed which sensations- which sights, sounds, smells, etc.- Sarah couldn't bear. Sensory sensitivity is a common and consistent trait in people with Asperger's Syndrome. There are people who can't stand the feel of velvet, or the texture of certain foods, or loud consistent noises. I don't remember any of that being discussed in the play.

The actors were excellent, especially Rae Brogan as Sarah, despite weaknesses in the script.

My Vintage Protest

New York City is one of the fashion capitals of the world. That's why no-one batted an eyelid when I came into the city looking like a star of an old Hollywood movie.
I had always been interested in fashions of the 1930s, 40s and 50s. They were bold, glamorous, and fun.
And in December 2014, I had decided that I would find a political purpose for them.

With the deaths of untold numbers of African Americans in the recent couple of years alone, America has been sliding backwards. And with the threat of a new fascist regime waiting to press its iron fist down on the United States, I felt I had to look the part. This isn't just a fashion statement. This is my protest against injustice, prejudice and the threat of dictatorship in the so-called "land of the free". 

The truth was, the moment there was a Republican majority Senate elected, I gave up on America. The Ferguson protests made me realise that nothing had actually changed in the country. It was a peaceful protest, and they brought in armed police. All because they looked different from them. And now, the Conservatives are looking even more like the national socialists that had been our enemies in the Second World War.

I believe in the power of fashion to make political and social statements. We live in a society that judges us by our appearance. I'm proud to be from New York City, which at its best is diverse, creative and liberal, where you didn't get strange looks from people if you didn't look like them. I think it's a very progressive city. 

I guess this look I'm going for is a way of looking different from everyone else and seeing how law enforcers react. They won't even know that I'm protesting against conservatism. 

Still, if we don't move forward and make the world around us a more inclusive, tolerant, less violent place, we'd all be dressing like this. 

So if you think this is also a good idea, I recommend wearing more vintage clothes. It's a lot of fun, I'll guarantee it. 

Plus, I think we ought to humiliate the rest of America by going around in this stuff, if indeed it does ever become a fascist nation.

UPDATE: 2/08/07 It has become a fascist nation. We need more of this fashion.

The Green Hornet: My Entry Into Soul Searching

When Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg's version of 'The Green Hornet' debuted on screens in 2011, I was disappointed by all the bad reviews, all the hatred it got from devoted fanboys of the TV series who whined, "Oh, Seth Rogen raped my childhood for his own amusement!" or some nonsense like that.

I admit, the film wasn't perfect. Especially in its tone and pacing. And some awkward moments. But it was fun enough, it brought something new and different to the superhero genre, the dialogue was snappy (I still sometimes say "Go!" the way Britt does in his interview with Lenore Case.) I even got to meet Edward James Olmos at MCM Comic Con London, wearing my Green Hornet costume and he said he liked working on the film.

More than ever, this film is relevant in its presentation of the consequences of abuse of power in journalism.

But that's all beside the point.

There was one bit where Britt and Kato have escaped Chudnofsky and his men, and the whole time before Britt was panicking and fleeing like the useless brat he is. He did absolutely nothing. And then he mocks Kato and calls him "baby", which is exactly how Britt had been acting.
I was just as ashamed and annoyed as the rest of the audience while watching it. But I realised during that scene, this had been the exact same attitude that I had towards my sister. I would feel criticised for the mistakes I'd make, and had blamed all my negative qualities on her. Because I felt that she was stronger, smarter and just plain better than me. And I felt inferior because of my social dysfunction. My Asperger's Syndrome. My slight dyspraxia. And as soon as I realised I was behaving this way towards my sister, I stopped blaming her for qualities that were no-one else's but my own.

So, The Green Hornet had been one of the first films where I recognised an aspect of myself within a film character.

The film is, as Rogen said, about jealousy and insecurity, qualities we all recognise more than we'd like to admit. The hero is a loser with daddy issues. The villain is a neurotic has-been with a midlife crisis.

So it didn't exactly cause a full spiritual awakening, but it was definitely a step on the right path.

You needn't be ashamed of this film, Seth, once you realise what the film meant to me.

Tuco the Trendsetter

This summer, warm reds, browns and everything in between were in fashion. Normally these would be autumn colours, which is a curious thing to sell in July. 

Maybe someone somewhere decided it was a pretty color to sell in clothing chains everywhere. And I mean everywhere: Topshop, Zara, Banana Republic, TJ Max, Forever 21, you name it! 

All the stores were unseasonably selling this color palette!
Harper's Bazaar says, "Mustard, ocher, brown, and orange were splashed all over the fall runways." http://www.harpersbazaar.com/fashion/trends/a11072/how-to-wear-color-0615/

weconnectfashion.com apparently predicted this. "Rust presents itself as the most forward fashion color in Desert Neutrals." And they're right. It is a very versatile palette that can be worn all year.

The one on the far right is probably the best example of what I'm talking about. Also, IT'S ON THE FRIGGIN' RUNWAY! How cool is that?!

It had usually been displayed in palettes involving white, brown, tan, sandy yellow, rusty reds and deep, rich burgundy reds. White tops on rust-coloured skirts or trousers, or vice versa, maybe adding sandy yellow to the mix of fashion. 

I owe this palette to a certain bandito character I fell hopelessly for this year. 

It was October before last when I first laid eyes on Tuco Ramírez. A University classmate had shown us the final shootout scene from the 1966 Film The Good, The Bad And The Ugly as inspiration for creating a short animation. this was after  Ramírez's Actor's, Eli Wallach, died of natural causes at 98. Watching all his roles last year was a missed opportunity, and Tuco  was the first role I ever saw from him.

The bandito had me entranced. I watched his frantic eyes darting back and forth, gradually widening at each sign of dangers, and I found myself seriously wanting him to live. Long story short, he did ... sort of.

The beautiful, expressive eyes bugged me for months. Wallach was unconventionally handsome in his younger days, and the eyes had it.

Seven months later, I watched the film and properly got to know Ramírez, falling in love with character and actor alike. He was wild, energetic, hilarious and sympathetic. He became one of my favourite movie characters of all time.

To me it was unfair that Clint Eastwood’s Blondie got all the attention, when Tuco was the interesting one, and I daresay the sole protagonist of the film. As a foolish, rambunctious idiot myself, I identified personally with this character. I wanted to dress like him. 

So I found myself tracking down the pants, wearing rings in a similar way he did, and finding a jacket like his. I asked Spylight for advice but their search result was too expensive. I found myself finding more or less his palette, though.  Nice, reddish brown short dresses to go with those brownish trousers, white tank tops, brown jackets, etc.

I didn’t have to dress exactly like him. These were bright, bold, flamboyant colours, perfect for one so fiery and energetic. That reddish brown jacket of his was a lovely colour. It wasn’t as though he randomly nicked it and thought, “Wow, this jacket looks great with my complexion” !  It was a scruffy jacket, just like the rest of him. dirty, ripped at the shoulder and in the back. His whole outfit was intended to look run-down and dumpy.

That didn’t stop me. I wanted those colours so I could display myself for the oafish, confrontational oddball I knew I was inside.

Damn, all those clothes looked good.

They looked even better with black boots and a thin black choker.

Who'd have thought- a character with the designation, "The Ugly" would have inspired the palette for women’s summer fashion, huh?

I mean, Blondie contributed a bit to the summer fashion as well, with all the ponchos and that.  So why Tuco? Why does his influence on the fashion world mean so much to me? Because he has a larger than life personality that I can relate to and emulating his style makes me feel comfortable with being myself. And in all honesty, he's the easiest character ever to dress up as. 

That's the thing. I do find myself a trendsetter. I obsess over a certain palette or style of clothing and suddenly it's in fashion! Spooky, huh? 

Maybe it should be Tamsin the Trendsetter?

And weconnectfashion.com may have forecasted the trend, so why did it become a trend at the same time I properly got into Spaghetti Westerns and developed such a liking for this rascal? Maybe it was fated? Who knows?

That said, I'm proud of him.

If you're looking for ways to wear rusty red in spite of this fella, check out websites like this one:

http://www.fashionfademagazine.co.uk/2015/07/ways-to-wear-hot-colour-trend-rust.html

Here's what it says: This burnt orange shade looks amazing with denim, white, tan and plenty of other pretty summer colours too. Despite being a seemingly autumnal shade, it seems like this colour trend can be worked all year round.

The Top 5 Roles of Eli Wallach- Updated version

5. Calvera from The Magnificent Seven

Calvera is the bandit leader from 'The Magnificent Seven', and he could have easily been a one-dimensional thug. But Wallach gave him the biggest presence of the entire cast, despite having so few scenes. That was the great thing about Calvera. He intrigued us and left us wanting more of him. He's pompous, egotistical, charismatic, philosophical. An organized and very together leader. For a ruthless bandito, he's very approachable and friendly, even if it's all an act. Yul Brynner complained that Wallach was too benevolent as Calvera, but Wallach just saw Calvera as a guy trying to make a living. When Chico infiltrates the bandit camp and finds out that his men are starving and have nowhere else to turn to, much like the bandits in Seven Samurai. So it can be argued that he has a responsibility towards his men, even though he doesn’t show any care for them. Wallach gnaws on the scenery with relish. Even if you don’t like the film, chances are you're going to find him the best thing about it. He even gives Calvera a slight philosophical side. All in all, a riotously enjoyable performance in a decidedly decent remake of a classic.

4. Sgt. Joe Craig from The Victors

The ill-fated Sarge is from the 1963 film 'The Victors', and one of Wallach's few unambiguously heroic roles from his younger days. He's the leader of a group of soldiers in WWII traveling around Europe. He's rough-edged, practical, and constantly calls his soldiers "stupid idiots", but he means well. He's just doing his job and trying to keep his soldiers in line. He apparently used to be a robber, so maybe that's why he cares so much about discipline. During the film, Joe meets an unnamed French woman, played by Jeanne Moreau, who's hiding in a ruined house from the bombs and the planes. She allows him to spend the night at the place and gives her brother's bed to him. One night she comes into his room, frightened of the noise that the bombs and the planes make. He invites her in. The next morning, she realises he already has a woman, as judged by the tattoo on his arm.

The last time we see the Sarge with his face in one piece, he's watching a man being shot during either Advent or Christmas. In his very last scene, the poor man has had half his face blasted away in combat.

Though Wallach's performance was understated, he had more presence than all the other cast members put together. Joe was pretty much the only soldier I cared about in the film, and that's not just for the obvious reasons.

3. Guido Racanelli from The Misfits

I went to see 'The Misfits' solely because Wallach was in it, though it was better known for bigger names Marilyn Monroe and Clark Gable. He had a bigger role in it than his billing implied, if his billing was there at all.

Guido is a mechanic who had previously been a WWII bomber. He'd wanted to be something more, like a doctor, but then the war came and ruined his dreams, reducing him to a hollow, bitter shell. He'd married his childhood friend, but they had a loveless, dysfunctional marriage and he was completely unable to help when she died and refused to take responsibility.

So at first you find him quite friendly, but then you get to know him and you realise he's kind of a jerk. He showed no respect to his late wife, and only wanted Marilyn Monroe's Roslyn for her body, only trying to be nice so he could have a chance with her. He's selfish, self-serving and desperate, but then he's not much better than the other two male leads.

He's also smarter than his friends Gay and Perce, which is at least some redeeming quality. He's more insightful which shows that he had been ambitious and simply gave up on life.

The most memorable scene is his monologue when he's driving Roslyn, Gay and Perce home drunk. He goes into a self-pitying soliloquy about all his problems, and he needs Roslyn to just say something to him, before he causes them to accidentally crash, because he's very unstable and driving at break-neck speed, almost literally. That scene is one of the best acting moments of Eli's career, and also one of Marilyn's best acting moments as well.

So yeah, Guido's an asshole, but he's an interesting asshole.

2. Silva Vacarro from Baby Doll

The best lolicon protagonist ever.

In 'Baby Doll', Silva Vacarro is a Sicilian cotton farmer whose gin is burnt down by his jealous rival, Archie Lee Meighan, so he gets revenge by seducing, and is implied to have done the deed with, his rival's 19-year- old bride, who had been saving herself for when she turns 20.

Silva is mysterious, seductive and we do not actually know if he really cares for Baby Doll. But what we do know is that they actually start to enjoy being together. The most memorable scene is when they chase each other around the house in utter delight and a raucous display of sexual tension which is simultaneously aggressive and affectionate, even more so than with Wallach's # 1 role.

Another great scene is where Silva vows revenge on Archie Lee, and his eyes glint and glimmer almost supernaturally in the firelight (which makes sense: he was a Sagittarius). Beautiful camerawork and acting in that moment.

Clever, cunning, crafty, a slimy sexual predator, Silva also has something of a heart when he takes the Meighans' fired housekeeper under his wing, which may also be him trying to take away from Archie Lee everything he valued. He also makes note of Baby Doll's growing maturity, despite her refusal to grow up, even insisting on using a crib (which looks kind of like a couch or summer bed) and subconsciously sucking her thumb. Curiously, Baby Doll takes on a maternal role after Silva decides to go into the "crib", stroking him and singing to him as he falls asleep inside.

There's a scene where he and Baby Doll kiss passionately, which would seen as commonplace today but must have been pretty shocking to prudish Fifties audiences.

So did he really have feelings for Baby Doll? Or was it all just an act? Was he simply using her as his own means to an end? Does he ever return to Baby Doll? Quien sabe?

In any case, this was his screen debut on film, and I have nothing else to say about it. Except that he was hot stuff.

1. Tuco Benedicto Pacifico Juan Maria Ramirez

This goes without saying. Tuco, the beloved yet simultaneously largely overlooked protagonist of 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly', was Wallach's best known character for a reason. Without him, the film would not have been the masterpiece it was.

This was the first role I saw from Wallach where I knew his name (The first role I likely saw from him was Arthur Abbott from 'The Holiday', although I did not remember him in it).

I remember when I first saw the final standoff in the graveyard, the first scene I ever saw from the movie, and I felt sorry for Tuco without knowing why. He was scruffy, and pathetic looking, and scared. In that way, he stood out from his two opponents. He was a misfit in the world of the cold and the calculating. Then when the poor guy was put into a noose, that I later realised was punishment for all the things he did to Clint Eastwood's Blondie, I feared for his life more than before, and I was more or less happy when he was saved from the rope by Blondie's super sniping and left alive.

Sure, he's an immoral bandito, but he's also much more personable than the 'Good' of the story, and much more sympathetic and relatable.

It's funny because he's so greedy, selfish, self-serving, treacherous, and self-centered. He takes joy in his own malice, is obsessively vengeful and he's light on empathy.

And yet he's stubborn, headstrong, forgetful and easily distracted yet determined, traits I can relate to.

He's the underdog. If he gains power, it all goes south for him from there. That is what is so compelling. That is what is so relatable. He does all this terrible stuff because he's desperate to survive in a dog-eat-dog world, and he's trying to get by and make a living, even if through the most underhanded means possible, hence the designation 'The Ugly'.

 He also has a lot of gumption, which is what I always admire in a character. No matter what happens to the guy, he just keeps going. That walk back to town after his and Blondie's partnership was untied was impressive. You can tell by his exhaustion that it wasn't easy for him.

You kind of start rooting for him once he's pitted against people far worse than him.

In addition, he made me laugh more than any other live action movie character. Wallach's comic timing was simply brilliant. He made the film one of the funniest I've ever seen.

His relation to Blondie is economic and self-serving, and views him as just a player in his get rich quick scheme, yet his obsession with revenge on him is sadistic and almost sort of touchy-feely, like him taking his time to try and hang Blondie, spending his time gloating over his victory; his overly attentive torturing of Blondie in the desert; and him tenderly stroking his former partner's blistered lips and talking about how they're both alone in the world. Make that of what you will.

He has an unconditional love for his reserved and somewhat contemptuous brother Pablo, and as we learn in this one incredible scene, had become a bandit to provide for his impoverished parents, whom he is devastated to learn had died over the years of his career in crime. The moment when he hides his face away, trembling with grief, adds an extra level of humanity to him, as does the moment when he calls out Pablo's hypocrisy and defends his situation amazingly well. He's done terrible things, but to save his own hide. Not knowing that Blondie saw the fight, he proceeds to lie about his brother by complimenting him, to which Blondie offers his sympathy by offering him a cigar, bringing a broad grin back to the bandit's face. It's an amazing scene that simply has to be seen to be believed. Wallach's eye expressions, again, are incredible.  

Although he needs others' help at times, he's a loner, and he can handle himself when the situation has called for it, such as when he saved himself from a prison-of-war train.

Alone and somewhat vulnerable, Tuco earns a degree of sympathy from Blondie, and ultimately his life is spared. 

There have been many blog posts singing Wallach's praises as Tuco and I recommend you check them out because chances are they'll have phrased his performance much better than I have. But it's the astonishing layering of all sorts of different feelings, from goofiness, through to poignancy, melancholy and genuine menace, this was Wallach's richest performance in any movie. A man who, though morally reprehensible, the audience gets to identify and sympathise with in spite of everything. 

So there's my number one Eli Wallach role, and one of the greatest movie characters of all time.

A Dollar to Die For (1967) Brian Fox Review- spoiler-free version

When I first heard of this novel, I was hyped. It told the story of the continuing adventures of the Man with No Name. And not only that, but Tuco, that lovable buffoonish bandit of The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, makes his only other official appearance.
The blurb had me worried, though. It told of "a murderous friendship based on greed and hate- which only one of the four could survive". I was depressed for a while. From the blurb, it looked to me like Tuco Ramirez, the character I related so much to in terms of being so energetic and accident prone, was really not going to make it this time. Images swam through my imagination as to how the story would progress. Does he die or not? What were the chases like? Does Pablo return? Despite myself, I finally went ahead and bought the book.
I was pleased to find out he lives! His subplot, however, was adequate.

First of all, the book is not as humorous as the movie. It's very dramatic and violent, with a lot of double crossing from different directions and a very strange Apache torture device.
Second, Blondie and Tuco have very few scenes together, for those that miss their violent bromance that they shared in the film. There's still a little bit of a post-breakup trust exercise, but there's so much story going on that it's kind of lost in there.

The MacGuffin of the story is the gold that the Count de Cabronet failed to send puppet Emperor Maximilian to save his life. I like the presentation of authority brutality in the story. There's a short scene where the greedy and corrupt governor kills the guard who had slipped Maximilian the note telling him he would be saved while torturing him for information. It's a nice demonstration how in such a huge political crisis, no side is innocent.
The Mexican Army is out to recover the money, and Sgt. Tuco Ramirez is among them. But he wants the gold for himself, of course. And he's more vicious here than he is in the movie, now that he's in a position of power.

I liked Tuco when he was just a tinhorn bandit. He was the constant victim of pratfalls and outright horrible luck. He constantly got tied up, nearly hanged and then left behind in the desert only to start mouthing off like he had suffered a breakup. And his obsessive determined revenge against Blondie, like that of a rejected lover, was a distinguishing and relatable feature, and so petty it was hilarious. The fact that he's so down and out was a constant source of humor, and I think that if Brian Fox had taken a different creative direction he'd have made the book as funny as the movie that inspired it.
Reading this, I feel like he's changed so much that I barely recognize him anymore. Then again, I guess five years can do that to a man.
He's still energetic and very entertaining to read about, but I think he could have suffered a little more consistently. We could have laughed at him a bit more.
Also, Fox is mean to him. He calls him ugly constantly. I know that's his designation, but the point is he's ugly on the inside. From what I've seen he was not bad looking.

So the Sergeant is kidnapped by Apaches, who aren't interested in the gold but there's an outlaw among them who decides to hold him hostage until he gets the hidden gold and...

And here's where it gets weird. The book has this bit where Apaches would stake their prisoner on an anthill and have ants eat them alive. I don't know if that's a real Apache form of torture or not. It sounds really made up. Maybe Fox was racist against Native Americans, I dunno. It seemed really pointless to kill a bunch of guys who aren't interested in gold.
This part of the story could have gone in a direction that was a bit less racist, and could have re-established the relationship between the bandit and bounty hunter, but unfortunately it chose not to.

What I like about the book is that there's moments of peace. There's moments where our bandido can just kick back and relax and once more, you feel it with him. You feel his health returning after a moment of extreme starvation and you can't help but smile with him.
There are few funny moments in the novel, but one is where he's dreaming that a beautiful woman is touching his shoulder when really it's Captain Alvarez. You can just picture his expression.

The last little bit of the book was just okay. For better or for worse, it's all a confusing mess. There is a fairly satisfying ending in all this. As I said before, there's none of that wonderful vengeful near-sadomasochistic behaviour between these two. In fact, their relationship can be compared more to Do-won and Tae-goo from The Good, the Bad, the Weird than to themselves. Still, the last line of the book implies that Blondie is returning those feelings that seemed unrequited in the movie.

This book was decent. There were a lot of things to enjoy about it. Things like Tuco's emotions were very well described. As usual, at times you really felt what he was going through, as soon as he wanders into Tyopa and collapses by the well. The violence makes the action in the movies look tame. There's not just guns, there's knives in it as well. And for some reason, ants.
I just wonder how such an ambitious premise would turn out in the hands of a different writer. Not that Fox's writing was bad, I just wonder if it would have turned out better in the hands of a different writer. How would Sergio Leone have handled the characters? Would he have made Blondie and Tuco still as emotionally close as they were in GBU? Would the characters have received expansion and development? Who can tell?
I'd forgive it if it was a fan fiction, but this is an official tie-in novel. This is officially what happens in the story's canon, or so it seems. I think I'd have kept to the spirit of the movie more.
On the whole, it's not as good as it could have been, but if you're really curious, maybe check it out.

A Dollar to Die For (1967) by Brian Fox- a review

When I first heard of this novel, I was hyped. It told the story of the continuing adventures of the Man with No Name. And not only that, but Tuco, that lovable buffoonish bandit of The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, makes his only other official appearance.
The blurb had me worried, though. It told of "a murderous friendship based on greed and hate- which only one of the four could survive". I was depressed for a while. From the blurb, it looked to me like Tuco Ramirez, the character I related so much to in terms of being so energetic and accident prone, was really not going to make it this time. Images swam through my imagination as to how the story would progress. Does he die or not? What were the chases like? Does Pablo return? Despite myself, I finally went ahead and bought the book.
I was pleased to find out he lives! His subplot, however, was adequate.
The story introduces us first to the Man with No Name, bringing in an outlaw for the money and then freeing him, as he did with Tuco. He's out to capture a presumably "half-Apache" criminal named Pinky Roebuck, who has the distinction of being a charismatic Albino.
The MacGuffin of the story is the gold that the Count de Cabronet failed to send puppet Emperor Maximilian to save his life. I like the presentation of authority brutality in the story. There's a short scene where the greedy and corrupt governor kills the guard who had slipped Maximilian the note telling him he would be saved while torturing him for information. It's a nice demonstration how in such a huge political crisis, no side is innocent.

On that note, despite supporting a capitalist dictatorship, the Count de Cabronet is far too benevolent to be considered a threat. De Cabronet reminds me of the Baxters from 'A Fistful of Dollars'. Apart from attempting to free the pawn of a tyrant, who is portrayed in a sympathetic light here, he doesn't really do anything all that bad towards the other couple of guys. In fact, greed and dodgy political views aside, he's about Blondie's moral level. No wonder the bounty hunter trusts him.
The Mexican Army is out to recover the money, and Sgt. Tuco Ramirez is among them. That part surprised me. Those who have seen him in GBU will know that Tuco is not a political man, and finds war and rebellion just an obstacle in the way of money. I didn't think he'd actually find his way into that sort of thing.

I liked Tuco when he was just a tinhorn bandit. He was the constant victim of pratfalls and outright horrible luck. He constantly got tied up, nearly hanged and then left behind in the desert only to start mouthing off like he had suffered a breakup. And his obsessive determined revenge against Blondie, like that of a rejected lover, was a distinguishing and relatable feature, and so petty it was hilarious.  The fact that he's so down and out was a constant source of humor, and I think that if Brian Fox had taken a different creative direction he'd have made the book as funny as the movie that inspired it.
Reading this, I feel like he's changed so much that I barely recognize him anymore.
He's still energetic and very entertaining to read about, but I think he could have suffered a little more consistently. We could have laughed at him a bit more. His humour is what makes him one of the greatest movie characters of all time.
Also, Fox is mean to him. He calls him ugly constantly. I know that's his designation, but the point is he's ugly on the inside. And Eli Wallach was one handsome fellow, up until the age of about 60.

After killing De Cabronet's men, Sgt. Ramirez and his fellow bandits murder members of their own company, and Tuco promotes himself to General. As highly as he thinks of himself, he wouldn't go shouting that out in a forest. He'd know that he'd get caught and somebody would be listening. Even joining the army in the first place is out of character for him, or at least lasting in the army without getting fired for speaking out of turn or something.
Another thing, he keeps calling himself Tuco the Terrible. Yeah, that caught on really well.
While that went on, Blondie captures Pinky Roebuck, who is a fairly interesting character, if not merely delightfully evil. He's like this charismatic Giuliano Gemma type, only, you know, a terrifying albino. They find De Cabronet with his throat cut, but alive, so Blondie saves his life and the Count informs them about the gold that Tuco and his buddies made off with.
Meanwhile "General Tuco", having hidden De Cabronet's gold in various places and replaced the money in his men's bags with rocks, is out partying, and passes out by the well. Apaches attack the town, kill Tuco's men and take him hostage, mistaking him for someone more important than he really is. Pinky arrives, interrogates him, and for a moment we're on his side, despite the fact that Tuco is frightened out of his wits. We know what Tuco did and we want him to be punished, although he could have had more to happen to him that he didn't deserve, until we find out that Roebuck's going to double-cross Blondie as well to get the gold for himself.

And here's where it gets weird. The book has this bit where Apaches would stake their prisoner on an anthill and have ants eat them alive. I don't know if that's a real Apache form of torture or not. It sounds really made up. Maybe Fox was racist against Native Americans, I dunno. It seemed really pointless to kill a bunch of guys who aren't interested in gold.
I think at this point I'd have instead had Blondie and Tuco, tied together against a tree, attempt to get out, instead of having Apaches slash their shoulders with spears as they remained trussed up there. That would have been true to the spirit of their relationship. Then they'd have had a chance to turn on Pinky together. That I'd have liked to see.
But no, instead Blondie had to have that ant thing happen to him, almost, so that this Cabronet he trusts can save him. Sure, Cabronet abandons him as well, but I'll get to that later.

Meanwhile Pinky is leading the captive Tuco through the desert and the poor bandit is starved half to death. That big beautiful body of his (which Fox doesn't speak of so favourably) has pretty much shrunk as he bravely refuses to tell Pinky where he hid the money. He's depressed and drained of energy, and at this point, we really feel bad for him.
It's sort of the same thing that Tuco himself had put Blondie through in The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, only the physical effects on him are described to be much worse. 
It also recalls the horrible beating that he took in the Union camp on orders from Angel Eyes, and yet again here he gets his revenge.
We start to root for him as he turns the tables on the albino Apache, tying him to a tree and making off with the gold. If I were Tuco, I'd have killed Roebuck for what he did to me.

What I like about the book is that there's moments of peace. There's moments where our bandido can just kick back and relax and once more, you feel it with him. You feel his health returning and you can't help but smile with him.
There are few funny moments in the novel, but one is where he's dreaming that a beautiful woman is touching his shoulder when really it's Captain Alvarez. You can just picture his expression, a goofy, sleepy smile morphing into a mask of dread.

The last act of the book was rather weak.
Tuco is found by Captain Alvarez and promoted to Lieutenant, then found by Blondie. They kill the Mexican soldiers to get to the gold and it's all a confusing mess. De Cabronet joins the fight, but his leg gets wounded, and Pinky and Tuco get turned in for their crimes against humanity. I don't understand why Pinky had to survive, other than the fact that Blondie is all too generous. We know the guy is worse than the Apaches, and yet the Apaches die for their trouble.
Good news is, Blondie yanks open the jail cell window because he feels that "a world without Tuco would be far less interesting." I knew it! He does feel something for him!

This book was just okay. Not good, not bad. But it has serious problems with characterizion, the most glaring example being Tuco. Fox gets a fair grasp of his personality but chooses to portray him as more of a stereotypical bandido than the complex, morally ambiguous figure he is. Also, he doesn't call Blondie "Blondie". I wonder why Fox made that choice.

Good news is, Blondie yanks open the jail cell window so he and Tuco can start their cat-and-mouse chase all over again. If there's one thing I'm satisfied with about the ending, it's the positive possiblity that Tuco escapes. As I said before, there's none of that wonderful vengeful, aggressive, attentive, behaviour between these two, behaviour which challenged heterosexual norms. In fact, their relationship can be compared more to Do-won and Tae-goo from The Good, the Bad, the Weird than to themselves. 

This book was decent. There were a lot of things to enjoy about it. Things like Tuco's emotions were very well described. As usual, at times you really felt what he was going through, as soon as he wanders into Tyopa and collapses by the well. The violence makes the action in the movies look tame. There's not just guns, there's knives in it as well. And for some reason, ants.
I just wonder how such an ambitious premise would turn out in the hands of a different writer. Not that Fox's writing was bad, I just wonder if it would have turned out better in the hands of a different writer. How would Sergio Leone have handled the characters? Would he have made Blondie and Tuco still as emotionally close as they were in GBU? Would the characters have received expansion and development? Who can tell? Probably. Almost certainly.
Although the novella is studio approved, it's nothing more than just glorified fanfiction. Since this belongs to a series which demystifies the Man with No Name's backstory, it's safe to say that the events of this book never really happened in the story's canon.
On the whole, it's not as good as it could have been, but if you're really curious, maybe check it out.