A Fistful of Dollars (1964)

Akira Kurosawa’s studio won a lawsuit over A Fistful of Dollars, because the whole story came straight from Yojimbo. So the plot isn’t the point. The style is. Sergio Leone turns a nameless drifter into an icon with a squint, a poncho and a cigar, and Clint Eastwood barely needs to talk. He plays two warring families against each other in a dusty border town, and his calm is funnier than any one-liner. Gian Maria Volonté is the perfect rival as Ramón, all grins and rifle. Ennio Morricone’s whistling, whip-cracking score does half the storytelling. The weak spots show their age: the dubbed dialogue floats a beat off the lips, the townspeople are cardboard, and the Marisol subplot is mostly there to prove our hero has a heart. At 99 minutes, it never wastes your time. It made $14.5 million domestic, and it holds a 98% on Rotten Tomatoes. An 8.2 because it’s a copy that invented a whole genre’s swagger. $90.31 says you ask for a poncho for your birthday, and you are not joking.

What works: Eastwood’s cool, Leone’s huge close-ups and Morricone’s whistling score made a template people still copy.

What doesn’t: The dubbing is rough, the supporting characters are thin, and the story is openly lifted from Yojimbo.

Who it’s for: Anyone curious where the Man with No Name started, and fans of westerns with style to spare.