But what gets lost among the stories about El Mariachi's genesis is the fact that with a micro budget and macro cojones Rodriguez made a debut feature that's a whole lot of fun. Get over the fascination with how little it cost and just dig on main bad guy Moco's excellent all-white guyabera outfit. Next time you light a cigarette, strike a match on someone's face. Or when you ask for a beer, demand that it comes "en botella, wey." And when you ride off into the sunset on your motorcycle, make sure your faithful dog is sitting on the back.
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But Leone developed similar elements into films that ran more than three hours. Rodriguez packs it all into 97 minutes and can't help but give only suggestions of a plot and impressions of the forces that drive it. Nevertheless, once the bullets start flying and the one-liners start ricocheting, it doesn't matter much that Once Upon a Time in Mexico is a confusing mess of a film. When it works, you don't care about all the times it doesn't.
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