Son of Django's Spaghetti Western Reviews

Apocalypse Joe

2010-07-17T08:30:00.004+01:00

Dir: Leopoldo Savona

1970

Joe Clifford, a trigger happy wannabe Shakespearian actor, inherits a gold mine from his uncle and sets out to take possession. On arriving at the mine he finds it has been taken over by a local bully called Berg who apparently acquired the deeds just before Joe's uncle met a sad and 'accidental' death over the edge of a local cliff. Joe is unconvinced and sets out to find the truth and reclaim what is rightfully his.

Also known as A Man Called Joe Clifford the title of Apocalypse Joe fits the content of this film much better as Clifford, played by Anthony Steffen, the genre's most prolific leading man, is something of a one man apocalypse. The bullets fly and the corpses mount up in a dizzying display and it is clear that the whole flick is designed as a non stop action fest featuring every possible Steffen action cliche along with a whole lot more. As such it finds a lot of fans amongst Steffen buffs but does it warrant its popularity? Well I like Steffen too. You pretty much know what you are going to get when his name is over the titles of a picture and although he was never likely to win any awards as an actor he usually delivers in his own way. But I like a little more than just shooting in my westerns so I'm going to try and evaluate this film on a little wider basis than its body count.

To begin with I have to say that I approach the film in a positive way from the get go as one of my favourite Steffen films, Killer Kid, was also made with director Leopoldo Savona so I know they can produce good work together. I must also say though that Savona's westerns are a mixed bag; some good, some not so great. But on the whole he was a solid director from what I call the second tier of the genre; working on middling budgets with actors such as Steffen, Richard Harrison, Mark Damon and the like, well known names but not really big stars. Killer Kid, for me, was a perfect vehicle for Steffen. A decent story enhanced by lots of great action set pieces and an opportunity for Steffen to act a bit too. It also features a grandstand performance from Fernando Sancho of course but then any film would benefit from that. But it is also a consistent film which starts well and keeps getting better. Apocalypse Joe, unfortunately, despite having some very good elements, doesn't manage to hold that same level of quality throughout.

For example, Steffen's character, Joe Clifford, seems to be two people at once. To begin with he is a frustrated actor, coming across as quite juvenile and frightened of his aunt. Very un-Steffen like. But by the time he arrives at his inherited mine he has transformed into the usual taciturn, steely eyed ruthless hard man we are more familiar with. His frustrated actor persona resurfaces occasionally when he dons a series of disguises to outwit his enemies but, on the whole, we never really believe that that's who he is. Joe Clifford, the young wannabe thespian has all but disappeared with explanation. This may be just as well as accepting Steffen as a Shakespearian actor is stretches belief somewhat and maybe as the film progressed those concerned realised it and reverted to type. Either way, it is a failing and when judging the film as a whole it does let it down. For me, though it does allow for some nice ideas to be explored, it would have been better left out altogether because once we get into the meat of the film, namely the action, it really gets going and is a genuine treat for fans of Steffen at his 'roll and shoot' best.

Because, at heart, this is a pure action fest; designed, it would seem, to display every possible gunfighting set piece they could think up. We don't just get Tony rolling and shooting we get him diving and shooting, hanging and shooting, jumping and shooting, dropping and shooting and every other conceivable, or inconceivable, combination physical exertion plus shooting. And when he can't get to his hapless opponents Tony uses a bit of ingenuity to bring them to him. In a memorable set piece, my favourite from the film, he pushes a bundle of wood from the roof he is perched on down onto a loose floor board below, creating a see saw that fires the bad guy standing on the other end into the air where our man dispatches him with a single shot without breaking a sweat. Marvelous stuff and it reflects what this film is really all about. Lots of opportunity for Steffen to let fly while everyone's tongues are firmly set in cheeks without ever stepping over the line into open parody. This, I believe, is the film's greatest strength and credit is due to those concerned that this line between action and comedy is maintained expertly throughout. It would have been very easy to descend into buffoonery in this film but they resist the temptation without ever taking themselves seriously for a moment.

The film has other strengths too though. First among which is the excellent music score from the great Bruno Nicolai which remains one of the most memorable features of the picture. We also get Eduardo Fajardo as the principle bad guy which is always a bonus altough I have to say he was somewhat underused. For example, during the final shootout, which last some 30 minutes in total (a full third of the entire film) Fajardo is merely placed on a balcony shouting instructions while his army of minions are slaughtered one by one. He is still there by the climax and his eventual demise is surprisingly unimaginative. In fact, it is decidedly anti climactic and really doesn't fit with the bonanza of varied comeuppances which precede it.

And this is symptomatic of the film's failings. There are a number of lost opportunities in the film which, had they been dealt with better, could have raised the film to a more memorable level. A prime example of this is the opening scene. Steffen looks into camera holding a human skull and quotes the famous line from Hamlet, "To be, or not to be" and then proceeds to perform a soliloquy in front of a western street audience climaxing with him gunning down five burly looking men in the front row with a pistol hidden in the skull. Sounds good. But apart from the opening line everything else is played silent and covered by the opening credits while Nicolai's theme plays over the top. Now, as I said before, Nicolai's music is one of the film's best features but used in this way it completely ruins the possible tension of what could have been a great scene. Why not play it out straight and have the credits and music follow straight after? That way you would get two for one highlights before the film is even ten minutes old.

For me, it is missed opportunities like this that stop the film reaching its full potential and mean that, for all its positives, it remains a good Steffen flick but not a great one. Certainly better than many but not matching his very best. If you are a Steffen fan though you are sure to enjoy it. I must say that I did a lot more this time around than on my first viewing some time ago. Perhaps I missed some of its charm last time or perhaps I am just warming more and more to Steffen in general. I'm not sure. But it is certainly worthy of a watch for any Spaghetti fan if only to see Tony in a dress and togged up ludicrously in a viking helmet as Macbeth. Just don't expect too much Shakespeare.

God Forgives...I Don't

2010-05-24T10:12:00.010+01:00

Dir: Giuseppe Colizzi

1967

Terence Hill and Bud Spencer became synonomous with the later, parody dominated phase of the Spaghetti Western cycle with their highly successful teaming in the Trinity films of Enzo Barboni. But their first teaming in a western was a very different affair. One in which their 'little and large' relationship was given its first opportunity to show itself but which was an altogether darker piece of work and one far more fitting to the grittier sensibilities of the 1967 Spaghetti.

A train is robbed of a $100,000 gold shipment, apparently leaving all the passengers and crew dead. But one survives and informs the insurance company of how it was carried out. Hutch (Bud Spencer) recognises the plan as being one which only notorious bandit Bill San Antonio could be capable of. But San Antonio is supposed to be dead. Killed in a gunfight with a mutual acquaintance, Cat Stevens (Terence Hill). Hutch sets out on behalf of the company to track down Cat in order to locate San Antonio but on hearing of the robbery Cat leaves Hutch behind and goes looking for the bandit himself. San Antonio (Frank Wolff) is, as Hutch suspected, still alive and well and living with a new gang just across the Mexican border; sitting on his cache of gold and terrorising the local villagers. So when Cat, and later Hutch, arrive to confront him a three way showdown is inevitable and a lot more people are likely to die.

God Forgives...I don't was Colizzi's first stint in the director's chair but his hand here is surprisingly assured and accomplished. The very first two scenes of the film; the opening, where the train rolls into a station carrying a car load of corpses and it's follow up, a moody and tense poker game in a smokey room instantly set the tone for the whole film and mark Colizzi as a director who knows what he is after. Well shot, superbly timed and exuding just the kind of look and feel your average Spaghetti fan eats up with a spoon this is top draw stuff and worthy of some of the best in the genre. And it doesn't let up there. The story, which at times is quite complex, involving flash backs and mystery, is played out well and a good balance is maintained throughout between the action and its set up. As a result it keeps the viewer engaged and satisfied while never stooping to a constant crash, bang, kablooey onslaught. This is all to the good.

Having a good cast working at the top of their game never hurts either. Both Hill and Spenser perform to their very best here and it is easy to see why theyu became such a successful and long running double act. But for all the success they went on to have, for me, this is by far their best outing as a team. Spencer plays Hutch with the determined but not too bright air that suits him perfectly and thankfully had yet to descend to too much clenched fist head banging antics. While Hill is super cool as the athletic and laconic Cat, showing off his gymnastic skills as much as his shooting ones and acting as the perfect foil to Spencer's dog like demeanour. But despite Hill and Spencer's fine performances it is Frank Wolff who is the star turn of the piece. Bill San Antonio is one of the best bad guys of the genre and Wolff inhabits him completely, exhibiting cool calculation and arbitrary violence in equal measure. Ruling his men with acidic sarcasm and condescension as well as unpredictable cruelty he swaggers in every scene, eliminating those who no longer have use with the casual stroke of swatting a fly. Wolff is supreme here and nowhere better than in a scene in which he appears at a saloon to meet Hill. Arriving to find Hill sat at a table in the corner he calmly states "too many people here" and instantly guns down the only two other inhabitants of the room, the bar man and a hapless customer. This casual dishing out of arbitrary violence is not just intrinsic in his character but seems to speak for the whole genre and by this one act he becomes a metaphor for every proper bad guy who ever murdered with a sneer in the Almerian desert.

The whole thing is also helped along by a good score from Carlo Rustichelli which contains a nice contrast from rousing choral theme to a solo guitar tune, both of which fit the movie very well. And, despite the fact that this is no comedy there are some lighter moments which raise a smile or even a genuine laugh. There is a moment where Rosa, a fading prostitute, looks lovingly at the photo of Tito Garcia in her locket and laments " he was such a good looking man". If you've seen Tito you'll get the gag.

Colizzi went on to make two more films featuring Hill and Spencer in the roles of Cat and Hutch. Ace High followed in 1968 while Boot Hill completed the trilogy the year after. Both these films have their moments and Ace High in particular benefits from the reliable talents of Eli Wallach but neither film, in my opinion, match the quality of this first outing for the team. Watching Hill and Spencer together it is easy to forget that this was their first film as a duo. They have an obvious chemistry and the style of each, in this setting, compliments the other perfectly. It is a film I have seen a number of times and can honestly state I like more and more with every viewing.

The version I watched of this was the Dutch Filmworks DVD. It runs at around 108 minutes which makes it as close to uncut as you could ask and is in the full 2.35:1 aspect ratio with english audio. The picture is reasonable but has not been fully remastered and shows a number of faults from the original print but this is no problem and is a pretty good release although I believe it is now out of print. If you can find a copy though it is worth getting and is probably the best English friendly release available.

Clint the Stranger

2010-04-23T10:53:00.007+01:00

Dir: Alfonso Balcazar

1967

Clint (George Martin) wants to leave his gunfighting days behind him and settle down with his estranged wife and son so sets out to find them in Wyoming where they have gone to start a new life. On finding them Clint's wife Julie (Marianne Koch) is reluctant to take her man back as she fears he will continue in his violent life and she wants none of it for her boy and her. But Clint persuades her to give him a chance by handing over his guns and promising never to take them up again. She allows him to stay on as a hired hand to prove himself and all seems to be going hunky dory until local rancher, Shannon (Walter Barnes) and his boys start bullying and putting pressure on all the local homesteaders, Clint's family included, to sell up and let him take over the whole valley to run his cattle on. Their tactics get increasingly violent and Clint's resolve to stay passive while still keeping his self respect and that of his young son is tested to the limit before he is finally pushed into action and a large scale showdown settles the matter for good.

It may not be so obvious from the above synopsis but this film is, in large part, a reworking of the classic American western, Shane (even down to the "Come Back!" final scene) and, as such, is very much a western in the classical tradition. Clint, despite his gun fighting past, is strictly an honourable hero figure who attempts to keep to his word and only strays back into violent action in protection of his community and when no other option seems workable. He is also a devoted and loving father and his rekindled relationship with his young son is kept firmly at the centre of the narrative's progress. He also has a clear love for his wife (it's Marianne Koch. Who wouldn't?) and is just a general all round good guy which does not make him a typical Spaghetti protagonist circa 1966. But then this is not a typical Spaghetti film of circa 1966. For starters, despite its Spanish location shooting this has a very different geographic look and feel. It is set in the foothills of snowy mountain country and so was filmed in the Pyrenees not the usual Almeria, Fragas or Manzanares. It is very much a 'green' western but, in this case, that is far from a bad thing a la cheap Fidani. The scenery is magnificent and is used very well by cinematographer Victor Monreal. Indeed this majestic backdrop, in true western fashion, goes a long way in covering up for some otherwise weak material. I don't have a problem with that however. You use what you've got and this scenery is good value. With it's unusually northern setting it also means there is no space for any Mexican bad men so Fernando Sancho, despite still playing an exuberant heavy, has no sombrero here and plays a character called Ross. No matter either; Sancho still delivers his usual sneering, bullet slinging performance and doesn't disappoint.

All in all, this film comes across as very 'unitalian'. Its classical style, romantic content and (spoiler alert) happy family ending harks back to a different era of westerns. But then this is predominantly a Spanish film rather than an Italian one. It's a three country co-production (Spain, Italy and Germany) but is clearly dominated by the Spanish contingent and the traditional leanings of the Spanish producers of the time have their stamp on the entire proceedings. For similar examples see the early films by Joaquin Marchent like Gunfight at High Noon or The Implacable Three. The Spanish westerns of this era were far more likely to try and emulate their American source material than cultivate a distinctive style of their own the way the Italians were doing but their product, if you like traditional westerns (and I do) remains very watchable.

In the case of Clint the Stranger it benefits from an excellent core cast. George Martin was a fine leading man who looked the part and could play villain or hero with equal effectiveness. Here he is the macho good guy with the eyes that belie an inner sadness and he carries it off with his usual aplomb. As mentioned above Fernando Sancho turns in his usual good value performance as one of the heavies and Walter Barnes is equally pleasing as the villainous patriarch rancher. Finally Marianne Koch delivers beauty and feminine strength as Clint's determined and virtuous wife, giving the part possibly more gravitas than the script might suggest. A good bunch of genre stalwarts who lift the film above some of its more corny tendencies in my view and in conjunction with the fine location photography already mentioned equal an enjoyable western of the old school style.

The film is not, however, without its faults. There is a cutesy blonde kid of course (it's a Shane remake after all) and this can become irritating as always and some of the other support cast are not as strong as the central players or, to be fair, some of the other Spanish bit part actors we have come to enjoy over the years. Where are Lorenzo Robledo and Victor Israel when you need them?! And for a film which leads inevitably towards a showdown between Clint, Ross and the Shannons the final shootout leaves a lot to be desired with Sancho in particular falling over almost unnoticed. This is a shame as the preceding large scale shoot out, complete with explosions and a burning town was excellent and should have been topped by a tense climactic showdown. It wasn't and the film has a damp ending as a result.

Despite this Clint the Stranger delivered more than enough to keep me watching and although it is far from one of the genre's best examples it is well worth catching if you don't mind a more traditional style western or a leading man in a hair piece. I have no problem with the first and, in the case of George Martin, no problem with the second either. Lee Van Cleef during his wig wearing phase is another story entirely.

As an aside if you are looking for an English language version of this film you are most likely to find it under the strangely ungrammatical title of Clint, the Nevada's Loner. Lord only knows where that one came from but it is under that name that it is released by Wild East on a good value double bill DVD along with its 1972 sequel, equally inappropriately entitled There's a Noose Waiting For You Trinity. This second film is strangely almost identical in story to the first except that the boy has grown up a bit and there's a part for Klaus Kinski to do one of his drive by performances as a bounty hunter and it could easily be seen as a remake rather than a sequel. It's also, in my opinion, not as good as, despite the addition of Kinski and the retention of Martin in the main role there is no Sancho, Koch or Barnes and the look and feel of the piece lacks the big scope clearly the budget of the original.

Arizona Colt Returns

2010-02-28T22:09:00.008Z

Dir: Sergio Martino

1970

The Spaghetti Western genre is littered with pseudo sequels; films which purport to be a follow up to a previously successful one but which, in reality, have no official attachment, only a purloined character or name in the title. So it will come as no surprise that Arizona Colt Returns bares little resemblance to its 1966 predecessor. What is a surprise is that the makers did try to make at least a passing attempt at linking this story with Michele Lupo's original and despite some obvious failings wound up making a reasonably watchable film.

Arizona (Anthony Steffen) and his friend Double Whiskey (Roberto Camardiel) are living outside the town of Blackstone living off the gifts of food and booze provided by local landlord, Moreno. All is nice and easy for the pair until Keene (Aldo Sanbrell) pays a local drunk to testify that Arizona has robbed a stagecoach. Arizona is arrested and hanged but cheats the hangman and escapes. Meanwhile, Keene attacks Moreno's ranch and makes off with the old man's gold as well as his daughter (Rosalba Neri). Moreno offers Arizona a reward to retrieve the girl. He refuses but after Whiskey is captured and tortured by Keene and his gang our hero changes his mind and sets off to put things right. He tracks down the gang and finds the girl but there are more tribulations and surprises afoot and Arizona needs all his skills plus a little help from a pretty barmaid before the game is up.

As I said, the makers of this film did at least make an effort to make links between this film and the original. Just not many. The similarities are short and sweet.

1. The lead character has the same name and maintains his catch phrase of "I'll have to think about that".

2. His sidekick is called Whiskey, provides comic relief and is played by the versatile character actor Roberto Camardiel.

3. Rosalba Neri is in it.

And that's about it. Not a great deal really but, to be fair, a lot more than many 'sequels' of the time managed. Its differences are, of course, far more numerous and so I decided to approach the film, not as a continuation of the original, but as a completely different animal so as to better be able to judge it on its own merits. This proved to be an easy task and one I'd receommend to anyone looking to get the maximum enjoyment from the film.

To begin with Anthony Steffen, fond of him though I am, is no Giuliano Gemma. So accepting Steffen as the same character as the original was always a non starter and it was an automatic reaction to consider this as just another stock Steffen part. One of his big hat rather than little hat ones obviously as it doesn't take long before we get that slow 'looking up from under the hat brim' shot that we all know and love from Tony's many westerns. Approaching the film in this way meant it started paying dividends for me right off the bat rather than being constantly compared to a film which is a personal favourite and which it was never likely to match. It also meant that I started judging it based on what I expect from a good Steffen flick and in those terms it performs pretty well. Apart from the aforementioned 'look from under hat brim' shot we are also treated to the high action quota expected from any Steffen vehicle and, of course, the obligatory 'roll and shoot' moment without which no Steffen film is complete. In fact, the anticipation for the 'roll and shoot' proved to be one of the great pleasures of the film for me and one which the director wisely held out on as long as possible to add that heightened sense of delayed gratification to the patient viewer.

The cast in general is also a big plus for this film. Steffen aside (he is, I accept, an actor not to everyone's taste) we have Aldo Sanbrell getting a decent size part for a change as the chief bad guy and the ever welcome Raf Baldassarre as his right hand man. There is, as mentioned above Roberto Camardiel in a reprise of his role as Arizona's drunken sidekick and the divine Rosalba Neri as the kidnapped daughter of local bigwig Moreno, played by the equally welcome Jose Manuel Martin; an actor whose mention on the opening credits of any film immediately increases my likelihood of enjoyment a hundred fold. For the most part these fine bunch of Spaghetti regulars live up to expectations too. In fact it is only the under utilisation of Miss Neri and the over utilisation of Camardiel that left me disappointed in any way. Neri was often given marginal roles in these films when her greater presence would have been a clear benefit so this comes as no surprise. Camardiel though, is a very versatile actor who can bring a lot to any film he appears in but who tended to split his appearances between wide eyed villains and burly comic relief parts. This is one of the latter and does not show Roberto at his best. For that see his homosexual bandit leader in Django Kill!. Here he is largely irritating and it was noticeable to me that the film got off to a slow start as a result of his domination of the first reel but got much better by the half way mark when his character is wounded and bedridden and Steffen sets off alone to sort things out. At this point the action kicks in proper and we get the pseudo serious film we had been hoping for.

It's also worth noting that it is around the same time that Bruno Nicolai's score markedly improves. For some reason a theme song was written and utilised throughout the film that can only be described and toe curlingly cringeworthy. This is a song which would have even been rejected for the Luxembourg entry for the Eurovision song contest and, in fact, sounds like that is where it may have originated. Any song that has the following lyrics deserves nothing less than an acid bath death. Consider:

I guess I gotta get my gun,

I guess I gotta shoot someone,

Bang bang, Hey yippee yippee ay.

But that's not the half of it. We then get the chorus:

Beng bang bing bang

Bong bang bing bang

Beng bang giddy up eeyay. (repeat)

You get the point. And it needs to be stated that anyone with a weak constitution should consider avoiding this film for this song alone. But if you are made of hardier stuff and can get past this musical monstrosity there is definitely pleasure to be had.

The film has other faults of course. Some of the plot makes no sense whatsoever. Arizona's immediate falling in love with the barmaid, pretty as she is, is one case in point but this is irrelevant stuff really. The film is short and sweet (coming in at under an hour and a half) and delivers some pleasing set pieces while clipping along at a steady pace. In truth, I wasn't expecting anything nearly as entertaining as it turned out to be and Sergio Martino is to be complemented on a decent effort in what was his first of only two westerns. It's certainly not a film that will ever threaten to disrupt the cannon of 'greats' in the genre but I, for one, have sat through much, much worse. Even with that god awful song.

The version I saw was the Koch Media German release which, as always, benefits from a beautiful widescreen picture with Italian audio and English subs. One or two short scenes seem to be of inferior picture quality but overall it is an excellent release of a reasonable film.

The Hellbenders

2010-02-16T14:29:00.008Z

Dir: Sergio Corbucci

1967

Sergio Corbucci was always something of an enigmatic director. Lauded and sanctified as one the holy trinity 'three Sergios' on the basis of his masterpieces he was also guilty of almost unforgiveable sloppiness at times and has as many bad films to his name as good. Films such as Django, The Great Silence and The Mercenary became seminal texts in the Spaghetti Western genre; innovative, extreme and stylish while Massacre at Grand Canyon, Johnny Oro and The White, The Yellow and the Black were almost equally memorable for their uninspired direction, patchiness or plain bad taste. The Hellbenders, a film from the middle of Corbucci's affair with the western, falls somewhere in the middle; an overall solid film which sometimes exhibits the director's best attributes, while other times not seeming like a Corbucci film at all.

Colonel Jonas (Joseph Cotton) assisted by his three sons and an alcoholic prostitute attacks an army convoy transporting a million dollars in bank notes. Leaving all the guards dead the gang then set off for home across the border, the whore, Kitty (Maria Martin) posing as a grieving widow and the money stashed away in a coffin in a regimental coach. Jonas plans to use the money to reignite the Confederacy and start the war all over again. But despite the initial success of their robbery things start to become more and more difficult for the group as they make their way slowly across country. To begin with Kitty, never reliable in the first place, attempts to run off and is killed by one of the sons. Then, after tricking another woman into filling the fake widow's boots (and mourning dress) they are faced with a continual stream of obstacles; an army troop, a posse, Mexican bandits, even some townsfolk who turn out to have known the soldier whose dead body they are pretending to transport, and eventually, inevitably, all comes to a head just as they come into sight of the Hondo River; the final barrier between them and freedom.

In many ways The Hellbenders resembles an American western as much as an Italian one and I can't help but wonder if this is as a result of the input of producer Albert Band; an Italian American whose real name was Alfredo Antonini but whose films were always geared to be more attractive to the U.S market. Aside from a couple of Steve Reeves Peplums Band produced five westerns in europe. All starred American lead actors and in some cases the supporting parts too were carried by names from across the Atlantic. Presumably this tactic gave his westerns a more 'authentic' look in Europe and a more palatable taste in the States. Whatever the reasons, for the most part Band's westerns maintained a pretty decent standard. In fact, arguably his weakest effort was the one he made previously with Corbucci, Massacre at Grande Canyon. It is also said that Band's technique as producer was particularly 'hands on' (he sometimes directed his own films in fact) and that Corbucci struggled in both collaborations to put his own stamp on either film. The truth is probably impossible to know but The Hellbenders is certainly an unlikely example of the director's work coming as it does close after his ground breaking Django and just before two of his greatest efforts, The Great Silence and The Mercenary; none of which resemble this film very much.

That is not to say that The Hellbenders is a poor film. On the contrary, it is a good story well told and featuring some excellent elements. It just doesn't obviously fit with the above titles. It is also not to say that the film has nothing about it which suggests Corbucci's influence because, in parts, it clearly does. The strong female role of Claire, excellently played by the impressive Brazilian actress Norma Bengell, is just what you might expect from the director. His films often feature such a character and this has always stood out in a genre that is overtly male dominated. But there is a distinct lack of brutality on show and at this time in his career it was Corbucci who was pushing boundaries in that area. There is also, for large parts of the film, a distinct lack of action and this is possibly the least Corbucci like element in the whole film. The second Sergio's films were far from being clones of each other but you could usually bank on a fair dose of running around and shooting when sitting down in front of any of them. The Hellbenders, in stark contrast, is positively sedate and although there is action in key scenes the real focus of the film is the slowly unfolding journey taken by its protagonists and the constantly building tension as the family get ever closer to the border while their chances of success get increasingly tenuous.

At the centre of this dramatic tension is the dysfunctional family unit led blindly by Jonas towards a goal that only he really believes in. His sons, each personifying a different vice (greed and lust in the case of Jeff and Nat, jealousy in the case of both of them) are lost both to him and his cause but he is too proud and arrogant to see it. This part is perfect for and perfectly portrayed by Joseph Cotton in his best Spaghetti appearance. His straight back and constantly pained expression convey beautifully the repressed anguish of a man sensing the collapse of an edifice he has built his life around but not wishing to acknowledge the fact and this characterisation is one of the lasting strengths of the film. As is Ennio Morricone's haunting Death of the South theme played mournfully on the trumpet; a theme so effective it was subsequently reused in other westerns in an attempt to add gravitas to lesser products.

The Hellbenders is a good film. It is easily downgraded because of some of the other work produced by its celebrated director but to be fair to it, in comparrison to its companions in the genre as a whole it is certainly deserving of a place in the upper tier. It is well constructed, has some nice set pieces spaced throughout its length and delivers a satisfying, while still somewhat ambiguous ending. That makes it a film to be recommended in my book and one which I tend to enjoy more with every viewing.

The DVD I most recently watched of this was the Region 1 Anchor Bay release which was a stark improvement on the previous fullscreen Mill Creek copy I had. The film, like most others, benefits greatly from its proper widescreen aspect ratio and allows its 'bigger canvas' to become more evident.

Kidnapping

2010-01-30T09:44:00.008Z

Dir: Alberto Cardone

1968

Alberto Cardone is not the most celebrated Spaghetti Western director. You are unlikely to hear of his films being likened to any of the masterpieces or mostly highly regarded films of the genre. But for a man who consistantly had to work with restrictive budgets he was, in my opinion, a master of making the most of his limited resources. Kidnapping is perfect case in point.

Former sheriff, Fred Leinster (Brett Halsey) has descended into drunkenness after the death of his wife and son in a buggy accident. Easy prey for someone wishing to take advantage of his weakness he finds himself lured into acting as a middle man for bandits who have kidnapped a local woman's son and demanded $20,000 for his return. Leinster collects the cash but he and the gang member sent to direct him are ambushed and the money taken by a mystery assailant. With the bandit dead and the money gone Leinster is left with all sides blaming him for their losses. Realising he needs to fix things fast he sobers up and sets out to return the boy, retrieve the money and clear his name.

This is a simple enough plot but it's played out at a slow and steady pace, low on action but high on intrigue, which allows us to connect properly with the characters and enjoy the gradually increasing tension of the story. The occasional red herring is placed to keep us guessing, to a degree, as to who the real villain is, the hero is flawed and is allowed a series of mistakes and an arc to his character which makes him much more believable and the whole thing is constructed with just enough dialogue to keep things clear without cluttering the thing with unnecessary exposition and gabble. These facets, though seemingly straightforward, are all too often ignored in films at the lower end of the budgetary scale. Directors are sometimes inclined to make up for limited resources by filling the screen time with constant, but pointless action. Fistfights break out and drag on. Men ride endlessly back and forth over open country. Shoot outs occur for little reason and continue for more time than is necessary or enjoyable. To his credit, Cardone rarely descends to such tactics (although his $20,000 on Number 7 is a sad exception) and in this film avoids them altogether.

Another plus for the film is its sparse but effectively used cast. Brett Halsey plays the drunken but moral lead well and his easy screen presence adds to the weight of the film while Fernando Sancho and Germano Longo provide everything required of the principle baddies. Moreover, Teresa Gimpera as Jane, the kidnapped boy's mother plays her part with a suitable degree of dramatic gravitas and looks great into the bargain. Even the young boy is not nearly as irritating as many are in such parts. All in all, the cast are a genuine asset to the film and their performances are all executed.

Michele Lacerenza provides a solid if uninspired score; some of which, predictably, features his own, beautiful trumpet playing. A sound easily recognised by anyone familiar with the ground breaking scores by Ennio Morricone on Sergio Leone's Dollar films. Lacerenza supplied four music scores of his own for Spaghetti Westerns including this one and they were all for Cardone. All of which were decent but none of which threatened the work of the tryue maestri in the genre.

If I'm looking for faults in the film I would suggest that Halsey's character, although admittedly a reformed drunk tends to mess up as often as he succeeds in his pursuit of the boy and winds up with a rope around his wrists or neck with a little too much regularity for the audience to genuinely accept him as a winning character but this is a minor point and possibly over shadowed by the fact that his weaknesses also give him our sympathy and lend him a higher element of realism. Not something which often features large in Italian Westerns. I would also liked to have seen more of Fernando Sancho but then I can never get too much of Sancho so that is also something of a moot point.

I like Cardone's westerns. In fact only the aforementioned $20,000 on Number 7 has disappointed and when his budgets are considered his consistency of quality is laudable. Invariably he manages to add stylish elements to straightforward plots and allows interesting characters to develop while still delivering sufficient and well constructed action scenes. He will never threaten to usurp the reputations of some of the genre's bigger hitting directors but his work was pretty darn good for all that and I for one would rate him in the upper echelons of the less well known or celebrated Spaghetti auteurs. Kidnapping is a fine example of why I like him as much as I do.

The version of the film I saw was an excellent fan dub with a beautifully clean widescreen picture and english subtitles. I'd been wanting to see this film for some time and this copy of it allowed me to enjoy it in its best possible light. Thanks go out to the fellow fan who made this possible.

Hate Thy Neighbour

2009-12-31T23:36:00.007Z

Dir: Ferdinando Baldi

1968

Bill Dakota and his wife are gunned down in broad daylight by bad guy Gary Stevens (George Eastman) who is after the map to a goldmine the hapless Dakota is carrying. Stevens rides off with the map, leaving Dakota's young son alive. The boy is taken in by Dakota's brother Ken, (Spiros Focás) who then leaves him with his sweetheart Peggy (Nicoletta Machiavelli) while he sets off after the villain in search of revenge. Meanwhile, Stevens has teamed up with sadistic big shot Chris Malone (Horst Frank) south of the border but is double crossed by him and tortured for his share of the map. At this point Ken catches up with the pair and a series of to-ing and fro-ing, crossing and double crossing ensues before the dead brother is avenged and the map is finally retrieved.

Hate Thy Neighbour benefits from an excellent cast. Eastman is first rate as the mean and grinning heavy while Horst Frank is even more at home as the white suited, high mannered sadist. Between them they provide a double whammy of bad guys and revel in the mean spirited shenanigans that unfold throughout the film. Frank, in particular, is memorable as a pseudo Roman emperor type figure; pitting his Mexican peons against each other in fights to the death armed with only a small wicker arm shield and a two pronged baling hook. These scenes are excellent and are the ones you will remember most when the film has faded to black. But perhaps this abundance of heavies is also one of the film's greatest weaknesses. Because the film's hero, and it does have one, is so overshadowed by the size of Eastman and Frank's characters that he is practically lost in the process and despite having just finished watching this movie I am hard pressed to remember much about him. Not even what he looks like. This is unfortunate, as Spiros Focás is not a bad actor. Indeed he has had a long and successful career in Italy and his homeland Greece and even on occasion in America. The problem is he doesn't seem so well suited to the western genre and his part is not given enough dominance in the plot to allow him room to shine through. On the contrary. Despite the familiar plot devices on show in the film they are, on occasion, turned on their head to focus on the villains; especially Eastman.

For example, there is a long sequence in which Eastman is captured by Frank and beaten, then hung upside down over a pit of snakes to try and get him to give up his half of the map. This is a scene usually set aside for the hero to play. Overcoming such adversity before returning to defeat the bad guy. But our hero here gets no such opportunity. Rather, we have one bad guy torturing another. The result is we lose interest in the hero and find ourselves becoming attached to the least sadistic of the two villains. Maybe a nice idea but for this to work Eastman's character needs to be allowed to develop; have some form of arc and then perhaps either reform or come to a tragic end. (preferably the latter) But what we get is no change at all and no room for the hero to make a claim for the foreground of the movie. He doesn't even get to kill his brother's murderer in the end. I won't give anything away for those who haven't seen it but, suffice to say, for a story based around the tried and trusted plot motive of 'revenge for a slaughtered family' the ending fails to satisfy what the audience would naturally expect.

In light of all this I can't help but categorise Hate Thy Neighbour as a film of lost opportunities. As I said before, the cast is good. As well as Eastman and Frank we are treated to the presence of Nicoletta Machiavelli, one of the genre's favourite female players. But again, she is not given enough to do to make a real impact and her character is left to inhabit the periphery for the most part. This is a double shame as Machiavelli was not only an asset to be seen as much as possible but was also at her best when allowed to play a more forceful character. Her role in Navajo Joe always springs to mind in this aspect, where, although her character is clearly subordinate to that of Burt Reynolds, it is often she who is driving the plot forward.

All this is not to say that Hate Thy Neighbour doesn't have its charms or its qualities. It is an entertaining film throughout and Baldi's undoubted skills shine through from time to time. Also, although the two villain device detracts from the role of the hero and, thereby, unsettles the balance of the piece they are both great fun to watch in action. And the aforementioned gladiatorial fight scenes with the hooks are an excellent device, somewhat reminiscient of the final duel in Seven Dollars on the Red between Anthony Steffen and Fernando Sancho where Sancho wields a hook in a similar fashion.

But, in the end, I came away feeling that this film falls into the 'in-betweenie' category of Ferdinando Baldi's westerns. Nowhere near the heights he reached with Forgotten Pistolero, or even Blindman but better than the dross of the Carambolas or the failed, if entertaining, attempt at a musical in Rita of the West. Rather this film sits amongst the middle ground of films like Texas Adios or the more flawed outings with Tony Anthony, Get Mean or Comin' at Ya! It's a decent enough ride and a pleasant enough way to spend an hour and a half but one which had the potential to be a lot, lot better.

The version of this film I watched was the excellent Koch Media release. It has a crystal clear picture quality and English audio, the language option I would opt for as the actors, for the most part, all seem to be speaking it in the film despite their various nationalities. My only gripe with the release from Koch is that the extra interview included with Baldi and Eastman does not have any English subtitles; only German and I would have loved to hear what these two genre stalwarts had to say. This is a recurring lapse on the part of Koch who otherwise are exemplary in their releases and very English friendly with a product designed principally for the German market. But I understand they are finally putting such things to rights with their upcoming release of The Mercenary. Viva Koch Media!

Brother Outlaw

2009-11-30T16:21:00.012Z

Dir: Edoardo Mulargia

1971

After the sad passing of Tony Kendall I felt I should watch one of his westerns in memory of his illustrious and varied career. In fact I actually watched my own little Tony Kendall double bill, starting with a western, Brother Outlaw and finishing with one of his Kommissar X eurospies, Strategic Command Chiama Jo Walker. Unfortunately for the sake of this review, the latter was far better than the former.

In fact reviewing a film like Brother Outlaw is always going to be problematic. In particular the reviewer is faced with the dilemma of how to approach it in the first place. As an example of the Spaghetti Western in general or just as an example of the 1970s, end of cycle, El Cheapo film which were the death knell of the genre. Perhaps both. As compared to the better films of the genre it is pretty weak but if you are a fan of the films of this period a la Demofilo Fidani and his ilk you may find this an entertaining ride. Maybe.

Dakota Thompson (Tony Kendall) is sheriff of Tombstone. But during a stagecoach robbery in which all his men are killed his life is mysteriously spared while the money is carried off by bandits led by Alvarez (Dean Stratford). On his return to town Dakota is accused by local lawyer Donovan (Omero Gargano) of masterminding the robbery and is sentenced to 15 years hard labour. In fact it is Donovan who is directing the bandits' activities and with Dakota out of the way they continue their nefarious deeds. Meanwhile Donovan forces his beautiful young ward Jean (Sophia Kammara) into an agreement of marriage. All seems perfect for the villainous lawyer but Dakota's brother Slim (Jean Louis) manages to free his sibling from Gaol and the two team up in their quest to sort out the bad guys and clear Dakota's name.

The above is a pretty standard 'revenge for a wrongful imprisonment' plotline and Mulargia doesn't try to complicate matters any by dressing it up any further. In fact, the whole thing is so loose and erratic that I couldn't help but feel that everyone involved had simply gone through the motions to the point of shooting a whole bunch of cliched scenes and then arranging them into a flimsy plot line afterwards. This may sound harsh but consider the evidence. Dakota and his brother turn up at a Mexican pueblo early on asking for the whereabouts of Alvarez. No information is offered in response to their enquiries and as they leave they are involved in an elongated shoot out with various gang members. Soon after, however, they decide to attack Alvarez's hide out while he is busy elsewhere. How did they know where it was? Donovan tells Alvarez to lay low and wait for orders later on only for him to turn up in an ambush immediately after where Slim is killed. Whereupon instead of trying to kill Dakota too he rides off. What the...??? These are just two examples of a patchwork plot that bares no scrutiny but if this was as far as it went I could shrug and let it go. Lack of logic in Spaghetti scripts is a common enough occurrence for me to make allowances for such things. But in this film Mulargia crosses the line into outright sloppiness that builds up into an unacceptable mess.

For instance, a few continuity blunders here and there will not spoil an otherwise entertaining film but when this goes as far as the female lead wearing two totally different wigs throughout the picture, alternating between a shoulder length one with a fringe for interior shots and a much longer, fringeless one for exteriors I can't help but question the level of care taken. These two hair styles were so disparate that to begin with I was unsure if she was supposed to be the same character and at another I wondered whether they had simply used footage from another film to bodge the whole thing together. In truth, I think the actual reason was it was all a bit rubbish and thrown together. Although I also suspected that the interior shots with the shorter wig were shot later, purely for purposes of exposition in an attempt to make sense of the random exterior stuff already in the can.

Mulargia also pads unashamedly throughout. An over drawn out scene like the afore mentioned shoot out is a prime example but, even worse, is the interminable 'waiting for the bank job to start' scene. This time waster lasts almost five minutes without a word being said and is made up of a seemingly never ending series of zooms, close ups and jump cuts which are painful enough but are then compounded by the robbery scene itself which eventually follows and could qualify as one of the most anticlimactic scenes ever submitted to film. Add all of the above to a series of Fidaniesque 'riding between location' shots and you will fully understand what I am on about.

I suppose my biggest problem with this film is that, at the outset, I really wanted to like it. Tony Kendall was a likeable actor and Edoardo Mulargia has made some perfectly enjoyable films along with at least one (El Puro) that I rate very highly. But the truth is that this is one of Mulargia's weakest, if not laziest efforts and Kendall, for all his charm, does not fit well in the western genre. He was far better suited to the campy, tongue in cheek Eurospy stuff and he needed a far better vehicle than Brother Outlaw for him to shine in the saddle. He really doesn't look at home here and doesn't even wear a hat. It's almost as if he knew he was out of place and tried to maintain a more contemporary look despite the trappings of horse, six gun and stage coaches. Whatever the reasonings, Kendall's involvement here was a mistake. The material wasn't the right vehicle for his talents and his talents weren't strong enough to elevate the material.

As I said at the outset, it is difficult to know how best to judge a film like Brother Outlaw. Alongside films from the peak of the cycle, it is horribly inferior. But by 1970, when this was made, the average quality of Italian westerns had dipped markedly. By the standards of its direct contemporaries it is not so bad, but, truth be told, it is still pretty darn poor. It's strongest point is probably its musical score but this is no great achievement either as most of that is lifted straight from Why Go On Killing? A previous film of Mulargia's and one he is far better remembered for.

All up I am glad I opted to watch two Tony Kendall films to honour his passing. If Brother Outlaw had been the only one I viewed it would have been something of a mute tribute. As it is, I will choose to remember him fondly as Jo Walker and pretend for the moment that Brother Outlaw never happened.

Lola Colt

2009-11-05T11:10:00.010Z

Dir: Siro Marcellini

1967

The Spaghetti Western genre, in fact the Western genre in general for that matter, has always been a male dominated place. These were films almost exclusively made by men for men and the women who took part often did so in a marginalised sense; appearing as victims, eye candy or both. This is undoubtedly one of the failings of an otherwise vibrant genre and it is to the credit of those women who did make a career in these films that their presence became memorable despite the chauvinism of the arena in which they worked. Occasionally though, a female performer managed to feature as a lead and Lola Colt is a prime example, not only of one of these rare occurrences, but also of why they so often failed to succeed.

Like Little Rita of the West of the same year, Lola Colt is a vehicle for a musical performer. But unlike the former, this film is not an all out musical. Rather it shoe horns in a handful of saloon scenes where Miss Falana's talents as a singer and dancer can be showcased. These are the scenes where Lola is obviously most at home and it is clear from them that she was a terrific performer in her own field. Unfortunately, the rest of the film is merely window dressing; a flimsy inconsequential plot played out with little conviction by anyone concerned and as a result you find yourself hanging out for the next musical number. Not something I would often say in connection to viewing a Western.

The plot itself, for what it is worth, is as follows. Lola and her performing troupe arrive in town with one of their party sick with what turns out to be malaria. They need a doctor but the only person available is Rod (Peter Martell) who is studying medicine but has yet to qualify. This is due to his being caught up in the town's problem which is its being held under the boot of local bad guy, El Diablo (Germán Cobos). El Diablo has taken a bunch of the townsfolk hostage at his nearby ranch and is gradually bleeding the community dry with ransom demands while his men generally cause havoc in the area. Lola, whilst taking a shine to the good looking medical student, encourages Rod to rise up against their oppressor but he and the other men of the town are reluctant to endanger the lives of the hostages. Eventually though Lola convinces them to act and leads them in a rescue mission on El Diablo's ranch. A mass gunfight ensues and when the dust settles Lola leaves town with her love interest in tow.

All of the above comes complete with occasional romantic clutch scene and suitable, if chronically cliched, flashback to explain Lola's determined feistiness and unwillingness to be the victim of mean spirited bullies. All reasonable stuff but all equally just a bit half hearted; leaving the impression that the whole thing was thrown together in order to fill the space between Lola's leg kicking, bum wiggling song and dance numbers. Fair enough, one might say and I wouldn't argue for the most part. Miss Falana had genuine talent in this area and was clearly more comfortable singing and dancing than she was acting. But I can't help but feel that with a little more imagination on the part of the producers she could have been offered something more interesting in the way of story and character and, who knows, she might just have proved herself more than capable of carrying a better all round film. Either that or they should have concentrated on her obvious strengths and gone down the full blown musical line a la Little Rita of the West.

The really annoying thing is that, in isolated spots, the film has some genuinely promising moments. Moments which when you look back at the entire film seem completely out of place with the rest of the piece. Foremost among these is the opening scene where we first see El Diablo at his most diabolic. The town's priest walks to the edge of town to plead with the villainous boss to spare the lives of a couple of unfortunates he is preparing to punish. The catch is in how the punishment is set to be carried out. In a film based mainly around a cabaret act it is something of a surprise to open the proceedings with a couple of exploding crucifixions. But that is exactly what we are treated to and as El Diablo rides off to the backdrop of these obliterated unfortunates we could be forgiven for expecting more of the same. Unfortunately, it proves to be an anomaly in an otherwise tame narrative. The only other time we get close to this level of nastiness is during Lola's flashback scene where we witness her family being mounted on wagon wheels and shot at for fun by a bunch of unidentified villains while little Lola watches on tearfully behind the windows of the house. The drama of this scene however is completely counteracted by the fact that the girl playing Lola as a child is clearly of a totally different racial make up to our adult star. Lola Falana is an Afro American of Cuban extraction but the girl in Lola Colt it appears she has a background as a poor white child. I know the budget was probably tight but surely they could have found a black girl somewhere in europe to play this little non speaking part instead of slapping some brown make up on some unfortunate child actor from the Elios backlot?

In reality I suppose it doesn't matter so much and is no more out of place than the soul funk accompaniment to Lola's musical numbers which are not only chronically anachronistic but also clearly feature a saxophone, electric guitar and full drum kit despite the band on show wielding a banjo, squeezebox and piano. At the end of the day it is just a movie and a light weight one at that. It obviously never sets out to be anything serious and as a result should be judged on its own terms. In that way it is fair to say that the film is generally entertaining enough and that based on her musical numbers Lola Falana was a pretty impressive performer in her day. Consequently I could easily see this movie becoming a 'guilty pleasure' for some. For me though, its inconsistencies outweigh its pleasures and I suspect any future viewings on my part will be with the liberal aid of the fast forward button.

Ulimately Lola Colt is an interesting genre entry as a rare female led one but anyone hoping for a quality Spaghetti which upturns all the usual sexual stereotypes of the genre will be sadly disappointed.

The copy of this film I watched was a composite one using an Italian TV widescreen image with English dub from an inferior VHS release laid over where possible. The Italian version is longer and as a result the English audio drops out on occasion but as the film is not of an overly complex nature it had no real detrimental effect on my ability to follow the narrative in any way. If you only get to see the English VHS release though you will miss out on a number of scenes, the opening exploding crucifixions being the most notable among them.

Son of Django

2009-10-16T09:08:00.016+01:00

Dir: Osvaldo Civirani

1967

After more than two years of writing these reviews it seemed inevitable that I should eventually tackle the film whose title matches my nom de plume but I must be honest and say I have been avoiding it somewhat as I've always felt it is a film with little of note to discuss. That being said I recently watched a reasonable wide screen version so now seems as good a time as any.

Seeking to identify and take revenge on his father's mysterious back shooting murderer, Tracy, the eponymous Son of Django, (Gabriele Tinti) travels to Topeka City and positions himself between two rival ranchers in a bitter range war. Both ranchers, Ferguson (Gabriele Vargas) and Thompson (Pedro Sanchez) used to be friends with Tracy's father and are the prime suspects as his killer. Tracy does his best to solve the mystery while fending off constant attempts to eliminate him until all is finally resolved in a major shoot out in and around the town's saloon involving every major player in the drama including gun toting preacher Father Fleming (Guy Madison), another of Django's old buddies from the distant past.

The mystery element of this plot is somewhat undermined by the casting of Daniele Vargas as Ferguson. I have yet to see Vargas in anything where he doesn't play the slimy, untrustworthy villain of the piece. Trying to carry off any form of 'Who's the real bad guy?' thread which involves him is akin to rolling out a 'Who's the Mexican bandit?' story starring Fernando Sancho. But this is unimportant in reality. As are all the other machinations we are offered. Once we get past the first twenty minutes or so where it is unclear who the hell we are following at all we know how the whole thing is going to pan out anyway and we are watching not to see who the villain is but how he finally gets his come-uppance. This is fine and as long as you don't expect anything exceptional you are unlikely to be overly disappointed with how Civirani plays it out.

In fact unexceptional is the word which best sums up the film in every area. It's not bad, in fact it is pretty enjoyable on its own terms, but it really doesn't offer anything memorable. This is not surprising as, from top to bottom, Son of Django is a second division spaghetti. The cast, although perfectly adequate, are not from the first tier of talent active in the genre, the director is capable but unimaginative and the budget was such that Civirani doubled as cinematographer as well. A feat which, to be fair, he often elected for in his directorial outings. Guy Madison is probably the biggest name of note amongst those involved which should tell you all you need to know and despite his top billing he is not much more than a fringe figure in the story. Meanwhile faces who usually are mere background performers get some more prominant screen time. Ivan Scratuglia, for example, plays Four Aces, a hired gun who helps our hero out and has the chance to actually act rather than just shoot and fall over. This is all good and such elements actually add to the film's appeal for me. It's also just as well that they didn't try to pass off the aging Madison as the titular son, or Django would have had to be a gunslinger from the Napoleonic era.

The real lead is of course Gabriele Tinti and I must say he carries the part pretty well. Tinti is better known for the plethora of appearances he made in the Emanuelle (note the one m) series of films with his wife Laura Gemser. In fact he made something like a dozen of these soft porn romps whereas Son of Django is his only western. This is a shame as he looks the part of a stubble chinned gunfighter and I think he could have made a success of a longer affiliation with the genre. He certainly brings enough to the part of Tracy to suggest that this could have been the case and among old hands like Daniele Vargas and Pedro Sanchez looked right at home.

The film does have its failings though and a prime example is a bar room musical interlude which is nothing short of dreadful. Ill conceived, badly executed and so out of place it beggars belief as to why it was ever thought a good idea in the first place. It serves no purpose for the plot and doesn't even have an excuse as a character introduction. The lady singer it features is strictly a fringe figure and of no great import to the story. It is just a badly thought out set up and is one of those scenes where you find yourself squirming with discomfort and hoping, not only that it will end soon, but that the rest of the film will not continue in a similar vein. Thankfully it doesn't. But it's inclusion in the film casts a lasting shadow of doubt and leaves a bad taste which takes some time to get rid of. This sort of scene just doesn't fit the genre. Cut an ear off or impale a shooting hand and I don't have a problem. Introduce a thigh slapping chantreuse and I come out in a rash that takes days to wear off. In fairness, the film does recover but my trust in the director was marred and for a picture which is mostly unremarkable it is bad scenes like this which unfortunately linger after the end credits and lower it in my overall estimation.

However, such scenes are not a reason to avoid this film in its entirety. They just highlight the benefits of the fast forward button. For the most part Son of Django is a jolly enough ride. The cast do a good job with unremarkable material, the score is pretty decent and all in all it is a pleasant serving of pasta for any fan in a good frame of mind. It ain't in the same league as the Corbucci original but then it's always a tough ask for a son to live up to the achievements of a famous father.

The Wrath of God

2009-09-30T07:44:00.008+01:00

Dir: Alberto Cardone

1968

A man is working at clearing vegetation in a field when another steps up behind him. The camera starts at the man's black boots and rises slowly to the gunbelt strapped to his thigh. The Colt pistol is removed from the holster and loaded by the anonymous man and in so doing some stamped lettering can be read on the side of the weapon. It reads "Made in Italy". I have no idea if this was an oversight on the part of the filmmakers or a deliberate inclusion designed to entertain the observant viewer. Either way it pleased me enough for me to approach the rest of The Wrath of God (for it is the opening of this film which I have just described) with a smile on my face and a forgiving nature in my heart. Any film with that kind of beginning is goning to get brownie points from me no matter what. Thankfully, the rest of the movie didn't disappoint.

Mike (Brett Halsey) returns home in order to leave his gunfighting days behind him and settle down on a farm with his old sweetheart but things do not go as planned. Finding Jane murdered, Mike is set upon and left for dead by her seven killers who also steal his life savings of $10,000; all in $50 dollar bills. They leave only seven dollars and Mike vows to track down every man, paying him back with a solitary dollar and death.

A Spaghetti fan of any length of time will recognise some pretty familiar conventions here. In fact it would be fair to say that pretty much every element of this film is derivative of others in the genre; from the revenge for the murdered sweetheart motive to the episodic 'picking off' of each villain structure to the 'surprise' chief villain reveal at the end. Even the seven dollars left behind by the murderous gang was used before. In fact by Cardone himself in Seven Dollars on the Red. But despite it's recycled nature this is a thoroughly satisfying film and is a credit to all involved. Cardone directs competently despite a clearly restricted budget, Mario Pacheco shoots the film with some flair and the cast play their parts well, maintaining a consistant mood and overcoming any of the film's more glaring flaws. And flaws there most certainly are. Looming large among them is the weak ending which, althogh crafted as a surprise, is anything but. Being so predictable as to be almost an offense to the audience's intelligence. I won't give details here just in case, by some stretch of possibility, someone doesn't get it while watching but, in reality, I could probably reveal all without risk of being accused of any major spoilers. Equally strange, although far less important, is a scene in which Halsey has a duel with one of the bad guys in a pitch dark room. In this scene we are not only asked to accept the use of luminous paint as an acceptable device but, more bizarrely, get to watch as the defeated bandit jumps out of the room at Halsey despite having just been defeated by a bullet in the forehead!

The fact that such sloppy lapses did not dull my enjoyment of the film in any great way speaks volumes for the quality on show for the rest of the picture. Halsey is at his coolest and plays a great hero with quintessential style while always looking magnificent. Anthony Steffen should have taken note. This is how to wear a hat! Not to mention a very fetching black serape and a rather natty waistcoat. He also carries off the action sequences with skill and is believable in a dramatic sense while wisely keeping his lines to a minimum. Of the seven, or rather eight bad guys involved Wayde Preston and the ever dependable Fernando Sancho are the stand outs while Cardone shows his deft touch with a fight scene in the excellent one on one knife fight in the desert between Halsey and Franco Fantasia. A scene which uses an overhead POV really effectively and challenges Cardone's other great fight scene, the finale of Seven Dollars on the Red featuring Fernando Sancho and a baling hook, for tension and style.

All in all this is a very solid and satisfying slice of Spaghetti pie. Its failings of plot, predictability, occasional lapses in logic and highly formulaic structure are more than made up for by its sound direction, interesting photography and solid acting performances. Not to mention an effective score written by and featuring the delightful trumpet playing of Michele Lacerenza, veteran of the Dollars films of Leone. The film is a fine example of good genre film making. It delivers what the viewer wants with more style than the budget would seem to allow and leaves with one a sense of satisfaction in having enjoyed an hour and a half of good quality fun. This is what Cardone is good at. He was no master in the Leone or Corbucci mould but he made good qualty, enjoyable films and always seemed to do the best possible with the resources he was given. I like Cardone's films and Wrath of God sits comfortably among his clutch of highly recommendable works.

Unfortunately I do not know of an official english friendly release of this film. I was lucky enough to view an excellent fan dub which used what looks like the Italian Eagle Pictures release as its source and added english subs. It is a film well worth an english language release. In fact, what would be even better would be an Alberto Cardone box set featuring all of this director's very enjoyable westerns. Now there is a project for Koch Media to consider.

Sonny and Jed

2009-09-23T09:51:00.007+01:00

Dir: Sergio Corbucci

1972

The Spaghetti Western genre has always been known for its violence. Sometimes it would be fair to say it has been notorious for it. And Sergio Corbucci has always been at the forefront in terms of pushing the boundaries of good taste in this area. In its time Corbucci's most famous film, Django, was banned because of its graphic ear cutting, whipping and wanton slaying of countless extras. Physical brutality, or the imminent and constant threat of it, is a regular ingredient in this genre and became as much a part of its make up as horses, big hats and Mexican peons. But never, to my knowledge, was there such an emotionally violent film made during the entire cycle as Sonny and Jed.

Sonny dreams of an exciting life as an outlaw and when notoriuous bandit Jed Tregado crosses her path in need of help she thinks her chance has come to make some money and change her life forever. Her life certainly is changed but not neccesarily for the better. Tregado proves himself to be every bit as mean as his reputation and by attaching herself to him Sonny embarks on a roller coaster journey of abuse, murder and mayhem where money is won and lost but her search for love is ever ongoing and ultimately futile.

Sonny and Jed despite its western trappings is the story of a disfunctional, co dependent relationship between two people who are plagued by their own base instincts, self loathing and deep desire to have and be something better. Sonny longs to be loved yet the man she chooses gives her nothing but abuse, both verbal and physical, from their first encounter. Jed lives by his own admission "like an animal"; caring for no one and taking what he wants when he wants it but, on occasion, he shows himself to capable of better sentiments despite himself. Together they expose both the best and the worst in each other but can never quite escape their own failings and weaknesses. This is not an easy film to watch. If you are hoping for some classic Corbucci action you will be largely disappointed as the gunfights and explosions are sporadic and appear only after long periods of bickering between the two protagonists. If you are hoping for a tale of love in adversity with a happy resolution you will be equally disappointed. The happy scenes (of which there are some) are far outweighed by the miserable and ugly ones and the unhealthy relationship between the two miserable individuals weighs as heavy on us as it does them. It is a gruelling ride for all concerned and that includes the viewer. I admit to being on the verge of switching it off on more than one occasion. But, ultimately, I was glad I stuck with it. It may not be a western tale in the conventional sense but it is a story worth telling. I know some people lose patience with the film as they become increasingly irritated by the abusive nature of Jed and the pathetic willingness of Sonny to be abused and I can understand that view. It is hard to warm to either character but, for me, it is this uncompromising nature of the characters which is the film's greatest strength. In stories such as these we always hope for some form of revelation on the part of the protagonists which will change their behaviour. Or, failing that, a nasty come uppance for the dominant, abusive partner. But, in reality, life is rarely that straight forward. Sonny constantly comes back to Jed. And in so doing she both encourages his abusive behaviour and is a constant reminder to him of his own weakness. At the same time she elicits moments of tenderness from him and reinforces her own inner sense that she is not worthy of anything better.

This is harrowing stuff and I believe works on an emotional level rarely attempted in any genre films, let alone a western. And its success is largely due to the strong performances of Tomas Milian and Susan George in the eponymous roles. Milian is the Marmite of actors. People tend to love him or hate him and this role will likely do nothing to change anyone's preset opinions. I believe he does a great job here, inhabiting Jed in true 'method' fashion but if you are prone to find his style annoying this one will probably only reinforce your dislike. Likewise with Susan George. In the 1970s she made a number of films where she portrayed unlikeable, petulant characters and for some she became synonymous with these features. Although Sonny I think is a little more sympathetic in nature she is not an easy character to feel great sympathy for either but here I think it is a great credit to her abilities as an actress that she carries off the role without compromise. It is also to her and Corbucci's credit that despite her obvious good looks she is never used here simply as eye candy. She gives a real performance and the film is all the better for it.

Sonny and Jed will not be everyone's cup of tea. It is a difficult film to like and it is certainly not a film I would recommend to anyone looking for a couple of hours of escapist fun. But it is a well made film and considering it was made at a time when Corbucci was seeming to lose his way it doesn't exhibit any of the sloppiness the great man was occasionally prone to. It benefits from some solid acting and an uncompromising approach. Just don't be fooled by Milian's beret. Companeros this most definitely is not.

$1000 on the Black

2009-08-31T16:20:00.008+01:00

Dir: Alberto Cardone

1967

In 1966 Alberto Cardone made two westerns with titles connected with the game of roulette. Seven Dollars on the Red and $1000 on the Black. In the crazy and unpredictable world of Spaghetti Western titles it should come as no surprise that neither of these films had anything to do with roulette in any way whatsoever. Both films also starred Anthony Steffen and, as all fans know, predicting the quality of a Steffen film is far more problematic. In a career that included dozens of Spaghettis and spanned the full time frame of the cycle Steffen's style stayed consistant but the quality of his films certainly did not. Seven Dollars on the Red proved to be one of Steffen's better outings. If anything, $1000 on the Black, is even better. Although, in truth, much of the film's appeal resides in the performance of his co star, the excellent Gianni Garko.

Johnny Liston returns from twelve years of imprisonment for a crime he didn't commit to find his brother, Sartana, their home town and surrounding area with his band of hoodlums. What's more, Sartana has taken Johnny's erstwhile sweetheart, Manuela, as his woman and spends all his free time when he is not extorting cash from the local townsfolk beating her or whipping her mute brother, Jerry. Johnny rescues local beauty Joselita Rogers from the clutches of some banditos but she shuns him when she discovers his identity as it was for the murder of her father that Johnny was convicted. Johnny is appalled by his brother's reign of terror and sets out to thwart his activities but gets no support, either from the townsfolk or his embittered mother who dotes on Sartana and vilifies Johnny for being 'weak'. Twisted family loyalties ensure that neither brother will openly attack the other but they struggle against each other until their mother's death when all bets are off and a showdown is inevitable.

Alex Cox, in his recent book, described $1000 on the Black as "visually fantastical, with no concession to that dull and deadly notion, 'realism'." For me Cox hits the nail on the head in terms of what makes this film appealing. It has melodrama in big heaped spoonfuls, a bad guy who is deliciously bad, a good guy we can root for and a mad, embittered matriarch in a big house whose malicious influence pervades all. All this acted with an unmistakeable relish in the Italian style where the term 'less is more' is never remotely considered. Everyone involved contributes their part here but, as mentioned above, Gianni Garko as the evil brother Sartana is very much first among equals.

This is not the Sartana character which became synoymous with Garko in the years to come but a very different animal. Psychotic, sadistic and Oedipal this Sartana is a whip wielding nut case who loves his mother and hates everyone else and whose blonde, blue eyed good looks are in stark contrast to his pseudo Mexican bandit persona. Garko plays the role well and proves beyond doubt that he was one of the few Spaghetti stars who was capable of inhabiting any character he chose. A true actor, he is as convincing here as the heavy as he was in any of his more usual good guy parts and his passionate, exuberant approach to this particular role works as a great foil to Anthony Steffen's stone faced hero. The two make a very effective pairing and between them create an absorbing spectacle. Steffen is...well...Steffen, and that's just fine. He does what is required and the part suits his style well. Tony was never a man who was going to challenge anyone in the acting stakes so it is not surprising that he is upstaged by Garko here but he performs well and brings sufficient steel to his character. He also performs his action scenes with his usual skill. This is where Steffen is at his best and he doesn't disappoint.

$1000 on the Black is also a film which features s few decent parts for women. Erika Blanc plays the feisty bereaved daughter with a good deal of strength while Angelica Ott offers contrast in her portrayal of the abused and downtrodden Manuela. But the stand out role among the girls goes to the older woman of the piece, Carla Calo, as Rhonda Liston, the embittered mother of Johnny and Sartana. Hard faced and even harder hearted, Manuela is at the centre of all that the boys do; goading Johnny into action, encouraging Sartana's brutality, despising the townsfolk for their hypocrisy. Her tortured soul hangs over the entire town and everyone in it and it is only through her ultimate death that the inevitable blood letting can begin between the brothers. Only once her influence is removed that they feel free to settle the score for good.

This is all pure melodrama laid on with a thick brush and is deliciously over the top. As Cox said, there is no attempt at realism and we are grateful for it. From the ridiculous pseudo Aztec fortress which serves as Sartana's headquarters to the implausability of no one ever suspecting the clearly shifty Judge Woods of being in cahoots with the villain this film doesn't even try to be believable. It's just a big old larger than life bundle of nonsense played straight and with gusto. And it is the strength of performance that makes the whole thing work. It's a film which never takes itself too seriously but never plays for laughs either so the viewer can jump into the emotional rollercoaster of the story, hold on through all the action and get off at the end exhausted and smiling from the fun of the ride. No one cares if the guns used are correct for the period. Or even what the actual period is. We certainly don't give a damn about what on earth those Aztec carvings are doing on a fort in the U.S. Why should we? They look cool and that's enough. Let's not even start to ask why the Mexican girl, Manuela has a brother called Jerry. It can only divert attention away from the fact that this film is a blast from start to finish. One that doesn't tax the analytical mind overly but which has enough depth to give it some bite. It doesn't challenge the best in the genre in terms of overall quality in any area but it is unwaveringly entertaining and that, surely, is more than enough.

Matalo!

2009-08-20T13:25:00.007+01:00

Dir: Cesari Canevari

1970

An outlaw is rescued from the hangman's noose by a band of Mexican bandits but once safely out of town our bad guy murders his saviours and holes up with a couple of old partners in a ghost town and plans a stagecoach robbery. They are joined there by one of the partner's girlfriend and an element of sexual tension is added as all the boys take a shine to her. During the stagecoach job the previously rescued outlaw is knocked off and the remaining villains go back to the ghost town to lay low for a while. During this time one of them hides the loot to keep everyone's hands out of it and a pacifist drifter and recently widowed woman arrive in the town by chance. Nastiness ensues and things are complicated further by the discovery that an old woman has been living in the ghost town all along; dreaming of rebuilding it to its former glory and figuring the stashed loot will go some way to financing her plans. All eventually comes to a head when the drifter escapes from his ropes with the aid of his loyal and somewhat aggressive horse and our original bad guy shows up, alive after all, to claim the loot for himself.

Sound familiar? Well if you, like me, had recently enjoyed the pleasures of an earlier spaghetti entitled Kill the Wicked, it certainly will do as this plotline is identical in practically every way. What's more, if you check the scriptwriter credits on both films you'll find they were both written by the same guy, Mino Roli. So he managed to sell the same story for two separate films. Nice move. But then nothing surprises me too much with Spaghettis. Or Italian genre films in general to be honest. The question really, I guess, is does the second film offer anything better or at least sufficiently different from the first. And the answer to that, for me at any rate, is yes...and no.

For all its similarities of plot and character, Matalo! is most definitely a very different film to Kill the Wicked. In fact it is very different to just about any other Spaghetti Western I can think of. Predominantly because, in an era of psychodelia, this film is the one which offers the most overt marriage of Western and Hippie conventions. In short, it's something of a trip. Only with big hats and horses.

The first thing which you are struck by is that for the first forty five minutes; a full half of the entire film, no one (apart from some initial mutterings from a priest) is seen to speak. That is not to say there is no dialogue. But that no one is ever shown speaking. Either the character speaking has their back turned to camera, or they are in a long shot or, often, are offscreen altogether. Apparently Canevari intended to eliminate all dialogue from the film except for the single order, Matalo!, which makes up the title. He doesn't manage quite that level of silence but the dialogue proper only really kicks off once Lou Castel's pacifist boomerang wielding character arrives in town. This change comes as quite a jolt after so long with few words and makes the film somewhat disjointed as a result. I would have prefered to see them stick with the largely silent approach. Apart from anything else, little is actually said of any real consequence. Only the explaination of why old Mrs Benson is still in town needs any clarifying words. The rest would work just fine in pantomime. In fact, for me, it is this lack of follow through which is the film's biggest fault. Strange to say, for a film that is as whacky as this in many ways I don't think it is quite whacky enough. I felt like it went to the edge and then pulled back rather than commiting itself fully. So that despite all the acid rock music and boomerangs it still kept a cautionary and somewhat unconfident hand on convention. A perfect case in point is the use of a misplaced and ill judged voice over injected briefly into the scenes between the outlaw's escape from the hanging and his arrival in the ghost town hide out. This provides nothing. It merely, detracts from the mood which has been deliberately constructed and comes across as something of a cinematic cop out. As if they were afraid we would all be a bit too confused by this point.

On its plus side there are some strong visual performances on show. Corrado Pani looks great as the principal bad guy, Bart. There is a Kinskiesque quality about Pani here. Not just in his facial resemblance but also in the barely controled menace that lies underneath it. (Although to be fair Pani is a little more attractive than Klaus and tends to smile a bit more.) His sniffing the burnt powder smell from his gun after firing is a nice, creepy touch and his heavy lidded, slack lipped look contrasts well to the hair trigger violent nature of his character. It's a pity Pani didn't make more westerns. He could have become a favourite. Luis Davila also played his part well as the more conventional bandit, Phil. In fact, of the three main male protagonist it is Lou Castel, the top billed and better known of all who probably shines the least. It doesn't help that he isn't introduced until the film is fully half way done. The other characters have had time to establish themselves by the time he eventually shows up. But his is also something of a flaky, weak character who spends most of his time crawling around or getting beaten up. And by the time he is ready to take on the villains (courtesy of his aforementioned and more active thinking horse rather than any activity of his own) I had frankly lost interest in him. Things were not helped when he started flinging boomerangs about. I'm sure it sounded like a good idea at the time. Indeed Castel has said it was the factor in the script which attracted him to the role. But in truth it is a bridge too far. Watching gang member Ted (Antonio Salines) hiding around a corner only to be struck down (repeatedly!) by a series of flimsy whirling sticks was, I suspect, far more painful for me than it was for him.

There are more positives however. Visually, the film is always interesting, with Julio Ortas' cinematography showing why he was Mario Caiano's camera chief of choice on so many of his better looking films. His unusual use of focus, or lack thereof, is particularly striking and the film has a genuinely unique look and feel as a result. The score, for all its anachronistic acid rock style works pretty well I think and adds to the atmosphere; injecting a contemporary menace to the piece. Wailing, fuzz boxed guitar solos and driving drums all help create a chaotic soup of unhinged anarchy and I couldn't help but think of Charles Manson's ghost town while watching this. Especially when considering the seemingly hypnotic, charismatic attraction some of the females feel for Bart, a character easily paralleled with the notorious hippie mass murderer. One woman kills herself because of him early on despite him clearly being responsible for her husband's death and then Mary, (Claudia Gravy) the murderous girlfriend of Phil, kills and double crosses on his behalf; risking everything and ultimately giving her life as a result of her devotion to him. Gravy is another big credit for the film I believe. She exudes sex throughout and brings a level of tension and frustration into the ghost town scenes which can be cut with a knife and gives some much needed interest to these sequences. But she also shows a believable vulnerability in her attachment to Bart and this balance in her character makes her role work all the better. She also looked so great in her log fringed hippie, pseudo indian gear that its anachronistic nature became irrelevant. Not something that could be said for Lou Castel's paisley patterned jacket. Although, to be fair, perhaps Miss Gravy's physical charms make me more forgiving in this area.

Matalo! is, if nothing else, an interesting oddity. Its hippie score, fashions and sensibility make it a memorable piece to be sure. But, these factors aside, it is not that great a western. It has positive elements for sure. But if I'm honest and compare it to its identically plotted predecesor, I would have to say the earlier film, Kill the Wicked, is the better, more tightly crafted one. The sixties gimmickery and boomerang silliness, on the whole, detracts rather than adds to the core themes and storyline. In short, Canevari just doesn't get the mix quite right. He goes too far in some ways and not far enough in others in his genre bending and the end result falls short in both areas as a consequence. It could be categorised by some as one of those films that you either love or hate. Tom Betts famously hates it. But, on reflection, this isn't the case for me. I fall well and truly between both camps. I enjoyed it on the whole. Felt it had some real strong qualities in parts but felt a little let down overall by some of its failings. It's well worth seeing for all that. But for me, if I'm in the mood for a whacky Spaghetti ride on the fringes of Bizarreville, I'll stick to Django Kill!

The version I watched of Matalo! was the Wild East edition. The picture and audio quality are not quite in the Koch Media league but it is very watchable none the less, is well worth getting and includes an interesting little interview with Lou Castel to boot. Their tongue in cheek dedication of the film to Tom Betts is also a nice little in joke which raised a smile for me.

Cjamango

2009-07-31T18:07:00.007+01:00

Dir: Edoardo Mulargia

1967

Cjamango (Ivan Rassimov) wins a pile of gold from a laughing Mexican bandit in a poker game but has his winnings instantly swiped when two more villains arrive at saloon spitting lead in all directions. Somehow surviving this ambush our hero follows the bad guys and discovers them at each others' throats after falling out over the gold. Tiger (Piero Lulli) has taken the gold for himself and Don Pablo (Livio Lorenzon) is out to get it back. Meanwhile a black clad whiskey seller (Mickey Hargitay) has also arrived whose real purpose is a mystery and Pearl (Helene Chanel), the daughter of the local drunk is carving out a precarious existence in the middle. Cjamango sets about playing one rival gang against the otherin his quest to retrieve his stolen fortune until the final and inevitable shoot out settles the matter once and for all.

Cjamango is a film seemingly made from disparate ideas from other films. The central premise of a town with two bosses and a lone outsider playing them against each other is obviously lifted straight from A Fistful of Dollars and the character of Cjamango, has more than a passing resemblance to Eastwood's Man with no Name character. Especially in the opening saloon scene where he is sporting a poncho. But there are also obvious nods to Corbucci's Django too. Rassimov's character quickly replaces the poncho with a cape and the name itself is an obvious variation on the man made immortal by Franco Nero the previous year. Fistful is also recalled in the role Pearl plays as protector of local orphan, Manuel (Giusva Fioravanti); mirroring in some ways the parts of Marisol and Jesus from that earlier film. And just for good measure, Mickey Hargitay seems to be wearing Lee Van Cleef's costume from For a Few Dollars More. All in all then, it would be fair to sum up the whole affair as derivative. It certainly is anything but groundbreaking or original but it would be wrong to dismiss it completely on those terms. There are many very good spaghettis that get most of their ideas from previous productions. It is pretty much par for the course in genre film making and always has been. Cjamango should be judged then for what it is. And, on those terms, despite a few faults, it's not half bad.

Much of the film's charm can be attributed to Ivan Rassimov. This was his first lead role, in anything as far as I can tell not just in a Spaghetti, but he carries it off with real confidence and is already exhibiting the qualities that would go on to cement him as a firm favourite among genre film fans. Rassimov does the strong, taciturn type well and is athletic enough to be convincing in an action role. It is unfortunate however, that his performance is somewhat spoiled by an illfitting english dubbed voice. Cjamango is not the first film to suffer from such a fate (Django springs to mind) but it is always a shame when an otherwise solid performance gets lessened in this way and makes you wonder who was in charge of casting the voice actors on some of these films. The guy who does the voice for Rassimov sounds about twenty years older.

The film also benefits from a solid supporting cast with the always reliable Pierro Lulli and Livio Lorenzon delivering bad guy bravura with consumate ease and Helene Chanel providing the kind of mussed up, smouldering beauty we all like in such pictures. Chanel made a handful of Spaghettis but, unfortunately, most were of the Franco and Ciccio comedy variety. Outside of this film her only other Spaghetti of note was Killer Caliber .32, one of Peter Lee Lawrence's better westerns. On the down side we are also put through the ordeal of suffering the appearance of a 'cute kid' character played by Giusva Fioravanti. It's not that young Master Fioravanti does a bad job it's just that I disagree in principle with the inclusion of such characters in any way shape or form. For my money Leone had the right idea in Once Upon a Time in the West when Frank wiped out the cute red headed McBain kids before the story even got properly started. Not that I've got anything against children in reality. I've got a bunch of them and love them all to bits. I just don't think they belong in films like these where they invariably are given awful high pitched dubbed voices and bring nothing to the story except an overdose of sentimentality. I don't mind a fair helping of corn with my spaghetti but I tend to gag on too much syrup. In Cjamango the youngster provides the hero with the chance to show he is a full on white hatted good guy which, I guess, is ok. But I can't help but feel that once this was established the director missed a golden opportunity in not having the kid blown up with dynamite when he had the chance. In one of those strange coincidences that you couldn't make up the scene where the youngster is strapped to dynamite has an eery reflection in real life as the child actor later grew into a covicted terrorist, jointly responsible for the bombing of Bologna Station in 1980 where some 85 people died. Truth really is stranger than fiction sometimes.

Cute kid not withstanding, most of the film is pretty solid, if not outstanding. It is probably best described as one of those films which is unlikely to over impress but is a decent enough picture which gives enough rewards to merit the time spent watching it. Mulargia's direction is ok but the film does seem to jump around somewhat, giving me the impression it was rushed through the editing process. But this is a minor criticism. As I said earlier, the film has no great pretentions to anything loftier than an entertaining programme filler and that's what it delivers on. It did reasonably good box office business in its day too; surprisingly squeezing into the top 20 Spaghetti Western box office performers back in 1967 and posting numbers similar to those of Requiescant and $10,000 Dollars Blood Money. These latter two films have stood the test of time somewhat better than Cjamango it must be said but with Koch Media's good looking new release now available you could do a lot worse with any spare hour and a half you may find yourself with.

The aforementioned Koch Media release was the one I saw the film on and it is of the sort of standard in terms of picture and sound quality which we have come to expect from this excellent German company. 2.35:1 ratio with Italian, German and English audio options plus some nice extras which unfortunately only have italian audio with german subs. Well worth the purchase price though for any fan.

Starblack

2009-07-22T11:57:00.005+01:00

Dir: Giovanni Grimaldi

1966

1966 was a time when the spaghetti western was really finding its feet and the style we have come to know and love was becoming engrained in the genre. The pseudo american style was being well and truly left behind and the mediterranean sensibilities that have become synonymous with these films was now firmly established. Starblack then, comes as something of an anachronism. Its look and feel is not just traditional in style but harks back well beyond the 50s heyday of the american B western to an even more simplistic time and plays more like a serial or 'poverty row' film of the 1940s. And yet, like so many spaghettis, just when you think you've got it categorised there's a sting that leaves you wondering.

Johnny Blyth (Robert Woods) and his deaf and dumb sidekick return to Johnny's home town to discover that his father has died and a ruthless banker come saloon owner (Franco Lantieri) is now controlling the town and squeezing the financial life out of all and sundry. Meanwhile a masked vigilante known only as Starblack is thwarting the town boss' nefarious activities and has become a Robin Hood figure to the local people. Johnny, although a popular fellow, has a reputation as something of a coward and when his uncle, who has subsequently married his widowed mother, advises him to avoid any trouble it seems like advice that Johnny can take relatively easily. However, Johnny soon discovers that his father's death was not caused by the accidental means he was first told of but rather by a bullet in the head and so he begins his own investigation into who was responsible. So who is the real killer? And who is that masked man? No prizes for guessing right on either count. This movie is nothing if not predictable in plot development. It is in its mix of styles where the real surprises occur.

From the very beginning of the opening credits sequence you know you are in for a very different ride with this movie than you would expect from a spaghetti western. Starblack, sporting a full face mask (no simple eye covering a la Zorro or the Lone Ranger for this guy), turns up in the nick of time in a series of vignettes showing the local ranchers being terrorised by bad guys. He saves the day, sends the bad guys packing (either back into town or into an early grave) and is lauded with doe eyed wonder by the happy recipients of his valour. In one vignette a grateful woman gazes at him adoringly, clutches her hands to her chest and sighs "Starblack" like some lovesick school girl. The corn syrup is ladeled on so thick here you can almost feel your liver going fatty and it would be understandale to think you had popped the wrong movie into your machine. This can't be an italian western from 1966. The guy in the mask is clearly going to turn out to be 'Crash' Corrigan or Buster Crabbe or some well groomed smiling cowboy who will be doing a song for us before the third reel. Well, you would be wrong. About the first bit anyway. Our hero, amazingly, does get to do a song. But I'll get to that later. The story proper opens and the style continues. When Robert Woods rides into town he has a sidekick in tow and immediately runs into a suspect character who lets us all know he is no good by slapping folks around and generally acting the bully. Woods, moreover, is so well groomed and smiling he could pass for Woody out of Toy Story and is wearing enough brylcreem in his hair to lube the suspension of your car. He goes on to meet up with an ornery old local rancher (Gabby Hayes anyone?) and his beautiful daughter and, just for good measure, shows us all that he is devoted to his mother. Phew! All we need now is for Smiley Burnette to show up and the package will be complete.

But wait. The next thing you know a different flavour is added to the mix and this time it's pure pasta. Despite the clean cut image of our heroes, events take a genuine turn towards the nasty. I've seen a lot of old forties poverty row westerns and, in spite of my admittedly derisive tone above, I really enjoy them. They have a nostalgic value for me as reminders of my childhood visits to the saturday morning pictures and early sixties kid's TV. And in all the movies I have seen of this type I do not remember once a villain getting his hands pinned to a door frame with knives so as to leave him hanging in a state of crucifixion. Johnny Mack Brown or Bob Steele would have cuffed the fellow sternly around the ear not given him a ready made stigmata. This is the twist in Starblack's tail. This is where the 60s italian sensibility comes in. And this is where the whole film takes on a more interesting tone. The juxtaposition of the two elements makes for an interesting experience in that you never quite know which way the film is going to turn next.

Nowhere is this exhibited more obviously than in the scene about two thirds of the way through when Woods, who has been toting a guitar around ominously for much of the picture, finally launches into song in pure Roy Rogers style. This is not such an odd thing for Woods the actor; he made his living singing long before he ever went in to movies, but is genuinely incongruous in a spaghetti western. A genre where you are much more likely to see the leading man get someone in the eye with a knife. But wait, come movie's end the bad guy's eyesight is impaired in just such a fashion!

The key element here is that the overlying style of this film is not just traditional, it is old time hokey traditional. And according to Marco Giusti this was exactly what Grimaldi was after. There have been many spaghettis, especially from the early period of 1963-65, which bore close resemblance to their american predecesors. But this movie harks back much further and therefore its cocktail of hokum and nastiness is something quite unique. As a result, I found it an enjoyable ride but I am well aware that this is not a serving of spaghetti that will be to everyone's taste. The old time style, the romantic subplot, the singing cowboy will all be elements which will put many off who like their westerns strictly downbeat and gritty. This is understandable but a pity as Starblack, when taken on its own terms, is an entertaining and interesting entry into the genre. It's certainly not a fantastic film but it is odd enough, and to be fair, well crafted enough, to be worth a look.

Unfortunately, like so many, this film does not enjoy a good quality DVD release and I suspect won't be getting one soon. Spaghetti westerns have marginal enough appeal as it is without narrowing the potential audience down further by going down the Gene Autry route. But I'd like to see it get one anyway and we can always live in hope.

My Name is Pecos

2009-06-30T08:08:00.004+01:00

Dir: Maurizio Lucidi

1966

Skilled pistolero, Pecos Martinez, (Robert Woods) rides into the village of Houston and sets about clearing it of outlaws. But his motives prove to have revenge as their source. This was Martinez's birthplace and he has returned to settle a score with gang leader Clain (Pier Paolo Capponi). Clain, however, is preoccupied with retrieving the loot from a recent robbery which has been stolen from him by one of his own men and a local towns person whose identity he has yet to uncover. The hunt for the loot and Pecos'vengeance quest become inevitably combined and the only outcome is more bloodshed.

Robert Woods' movies are something like Forrest Gumps' box of chocolates. You never know what you might get. More than any other leading man appearing in Spaghetti Westerns I can think of Woods constantly varied his roles and the types of characters he played. Willing to play villains as well as heroes, light weight parts as well as dark dramatic ones and chance his arm as a latino rather than stick to the safe ground of the laconic American. It is this risk taking which makes his films most interesting and, it must be said, of varying success. When you take chances things don't always come out as you'd hoped and this is the case with some of Woods films. However, it also means that when things do work out they stand out all the more. Films such as Black Jack, El Puro and Challenge of the McKennas spring to mind in this instance. And I believe My Name is Pecos can be added to that list of films where Woods took a chance and it paid off.

By 1966 there had been a whole bunch of westerns made in europe and the Spaghetti style had been pretty well formulated. It differed in a number of ways from the american original but one element remained pretty constant. The hero figure, even if not as obviously white hatted as his earlier U.S equivelant, was still almost universally anglo saxon in origin. Mexicans, for the most part, were still predominantly sidekicks, victims or villains. The gunslinging protagonist, however subject his morals or motivations might be in these new mediterranean versions of the genre, was still cut from a racial template set out and stuck to for many years. In My Name is Pecos that template is adjusted. Pecos Martinez may have most of the attributes of a western hero (fast and accurate with his gun, slow talking yet quick witted, unwaveringly driven to eliminate the bad guys) but his racial make up sets him distinctly apart from the crowd. As his name suggests this avenging gunslinger is no W.A.S.P. He is proudly mexican.

In fact the racial inversion of types extends to most of the cast. This includes not only the principle heavy, Clain, but all his gang. No Ninos, Indios or Pacos here. Strictly Steves, Jacks and Slims. And the secondary villain, Morton the bible wielding undertaker, beautifully played by Umberto Raho, as well as the corrupt and cowardly saloon owner; all are white american. While the saloon girl who helps the hero is not only Mexican but, in a further inversion of expected types, not a whore. Of course, I'm not suggesting that all characters in previous westerns had completely and slavishly conformed to the norms of the genre. But I do believe that My Name is Pecos marked a radical shift. Pecos is not a Mexican hero a la Don Cesar Guzman in The Implacable Three who was essentially an hidalgo landowner or Cuchillo from The Big Gundown who is a knife throwing petty criminal. He is an avenging gunslinger who holds the moral high ground and cleans up the town. The independent man of strength and honour who the weak and helpless townspeople look to and depend on for salvation. In a different era and with a different face he could have been played by Gary Cooper. It is this that makes the characters racial make up so marked. He is playing a role traditionally set only for a white american but he is overtly mexican. As if to state his place even clearer he announces in the saloon "I don't like whiskey. I drink tequila!"

But for all the interest this role reversal might have it would be of no import if the film itself failed to engage. Thankfully, this is not a one trick pony. Pecos proves to be an enjoyable character and the story moves along with all the attributes you could ask for from a cleaning up a bad town/revenge western. Lucidi's direction is competent if not inspired, the script is decent and the acting, from some individuals in particular, is excellent. For a six foot four caucasian from Colorado Woods inhabits the body of Martinez with surprising ease. Elaborately taped eyes notwithstanding (I'm really not sure why it was felt neccesary to pin his eyes up in such a painful looking fashion) he convinces as the embittered hero and the taciturn nature of the character allows him to underplay the part. Something which shows Woods at his strongest. The rest of the cast perform well also. Luigi Casellato as Eddie the saloon owner plays an interesting mix of greed and fear but comes across as a man at odds with his deeper morals trying to make his way in a dangerous and amoral environment. While Umberto Raho's Morton is a delightfully slimy individual; combining religious words with treacherous and wicked deeds in a truly enjoyable manner. We even get the old pistol in the bible routine for good measure.

My Name is Pecos is a solid spaghetti which combines all the conventions required in a film of this type with an interesting twist in the angle of the racial make up of the key personel. And this, for me, is what good genre filmmaking is all about. It delivers what I expect but tweaks the boundaries a little to keep it interesting. It's not Citizen Kane. Nor does it try to be. It's a fun action drama with some interesting characters well played which features some tension and the required amount of blood letting leading up to a showdown at the end. Frankly, that's pretty much all I ask from a western and as a consequence I came away from this one satisfied and happy.

The version of this film I watched came from the Brazilian release. It has a reasonably clean picture and english audio but is unfortunately full frame. As a result some of the visual impact of the film was reduced. It would be nice to see this in its correct aspect ratio and I believe it is a film which deserves a better release. Recommended.

Vengeance

2009-06-25T11:21:00.011+01:00

Dir: Antonio Margheriti

1968

Antonio Margheriti did most of his best work as director on gothic horror films like The Castle of Blood and Long Hair of Death so it is probably no surprise that the best of his half dozen westerns were those which borrowed most heavily from that genre. And God Said to Cain is, for me, his masterpiece but Vengeance has remained a firm personal favourite for some years too and a recent re viewing of it has only reinforced it in my pantheon of solid Spaghetti Westerns which never fail to satisfy.

After his friend Ricky (Albert Dell'Aqua) is pulled limb from limb by their former criminal cohorts angry hardman Rocco (Richard Harrison) seeks revenge by tracking down each of the five guilty parties. With each one dispatched he tosses a piece of the rope used to murder his friend on the corpses. He knows the identity of three of the killers but in searching for the last two is faced with a disappointing surprise. Another of his old partners (Claudio Camaso) who he thought had perished in their last job turns out to be not only alive but leading the gang and responsible for Ricky's agonising murder. The stage is set for a final showdown where only death will clean old wounds. Along the way Rocco saves and takes on a luscious redheaded saloon girl (Spela Rozin) and is followed step by step by a Pinkerton agent who is as keen to recover the stolen $30,000 as Harrison is to avenge his friend.

On the surface this synopsis doesn't obviously suggest a gothic quality. It's a bog standard revenge story set out in an episodic kind of structure allowing for a handful of separate vignettes which show each of the five villains being tracked down and knocked off. But, as in his next western, And God Said to Cain, Margheriti's approach injects a completely different feel from your average revenge flick and it is this approach, in combination with some excellent performances from the main actors and a well utilised score, which elevates this film above the sum of its basic parts.

To begin with the director's choice of camera angles throughout gives the entire piece a slightly out of kilter look. The opening scene showing Ricky's tormented death utilises a high set camera looking directly down on the victim. This not only allows for a fine composition around the star shape created by the five ropes extending from the victims outstretched extremities it also accentuates his isolation and desperation. It's a simple technique but one which works well and gets the whole story off on a grim and stylistic footing. Later, and as the story unfolds, this eery atmosphere is continued and enhanced by Margheriti's repeated use of extreme low camera angles. Simple transition shots of men standing outside or entering a saloon take on an exentuatedly sinister air as the camera looks up at them from ground level; making the figures, buildings and sky all appear ominous and overbearing. This is genre film making 101. Simple and cost effective techniques which give an unsettling sense of gravitas to an otherwise unremarkable scene. Despite his later reputation and preference for explosive action sequences this, for my money, was where Margheriti excelled. His great talent was in creating atmosphere and drawing the most value from any particular set up. This is illustrated most obviously here in the climactic showdown sequence in the sulphur mine at the film's conclusion. In this scene the cat and mouse pursuit through the mine's tunnels, lit by flickering torch flames, is played out for a full fifteen minutes and is an exercise in the creation and elongation of suspense and mood leading up to a well timed violent conclusion.

All this horror genre technique is utilised effectively throughout Vengeance but it is fused even more strongly into the narrative once the character of Mendoza (Claudio Camaso) appears on screen. Dressed in a short cape and battered top hat, face plastered with dust and carrying a walking stick Mendoza appears more like the head witch doctor of a voodoo cult than a mexican outlaw. But his appearance fits the mood of the film perfectly and Camaso plays the role with an exuberant intensity which is a joy to behold. Camaso had magnificent screen presence in everything he did and his performance here is no exception. Lurching from brooding silence to manic laughter his portrayal of the treacherous genius with a penchant for sulphur and cruelty dominates the memory and his dust coated face grinning maniacally leaves a lasting image. What is more, his intense facial contortions act as a great contrast to Richard Harrison's stoic, unchanging expression. Rocco is a man on a mission and nothing can divert him from his quest. As such, Harrison's stoney faced approach is perfect for the part. Harrison's career spanned the full cycle of the spaghetti western; appearing in some of the very earliest pre Leone films and hanging in there during the 1970s as the genre lost its appeal and quality. As such his movies are nothing if not of varying value. For the most part though he remained a solid performer throughout and occasionally was involved in a project which offered him something to work with and in which he could show what he was really capable of. In my opinion Vengeance is just such a project and remains one of the best examples of his work.

As if all this weren't enough, the supporting cast which contains Margheriti regular Luciano Pigozzi, flaming redhead Spela Rozin and stalwart bad guys Freddy Unger and Lucio De Santis all add extra quality to the mix and the score from Carlo Savina is subtly and effectively used.

All in all Vengeance is an excellent example of a late sixties spaghetti western. Building on the stylistic experimentations of the preceding years and avoiding the parodic excesses that were to come it has a solid balance of action, drama and suspense. Dialogue is kept wisely to a minimum and fist fights, when they appear, are marked by acts of nastiness like dragging spurs across a man's throat rather than Bud Spencer-like punches to the top of the head accompanied by breaking spring sound effects. This is how spaghetti westerns should be. Dark, moody, and melodramatic with some flourishes of absurdly clever gun and knife play for good measure. I liked this movie the first time I saw it and I still find it presses all the right buttons in what I enjoy in the genre. Margheriti was a very capable director whose better work, I think, is often under valued because of the quantity of ordinary to poor films that he also produced during a long and varied career. It is true he didn't always get it right. As a 'working' director operating in just about every genre possible in Italian commercial cinema this is not surprising. But when he did get it right, as he did here and to an even greater degree in And God Said to Cain he proved that he was one of the most capable directors of his time.

Those Dirty Dogs

2009-05-29T20:23:00.007+01:00

Dir: Giuseppe Rosati

1973

1973 was not exactly a stellar year in the history of the Italian western. It was a time when the genre was genuinely breathing its last gasps and those films which were still being made in the western cycle were predominantly leaning heavily towards parody and pastiche. This was post Trinity time and there was precious little being made of any great note. Consequently, I approached Those Dirty Dogs with some understandable trepidation. But the opening scenes were promising. The film opens with a massacre, followed by the carrying off of a female hostage. Stephen Boyd rides in, closely followed by Giannio Garko as a koran reading bounty hunter. Maybe this was going to buck the trend and prove to be an 'old school' spaghetti. One where the themes would be dark and the actor's stubble even darker. Maybe this would be the film from '73 which proved that all was not silly bar room brawls and prat falls. Then again, maybe not.

To be fair, before I go off and list all the ways in which the film fails, I should say that Those Dirty Dogs is by no means a terrible film. In some ways it is quite enjoyable. It just isn't as good as it could be and, moreover, can't quite seem to make up its mind as to what it wants to be. This, for my mind, is a greater sin and merely adds to my sense of disappointment when I should be coming away feeling much better.

As mentioned above, the opening scenes and the introduction of the key protagonists set a darkish, if slightly ironic, mood. Garko's character, Korano, is somewhat offbeat with his sun umbrella and arabic holy book but he is offered as an essentially serious character. Likewise, Stephen Boyd and his companions show no suggestions of parody at this stage. This continues for some time. The uneasy alliance between Garko and Boyd is established and the conflicting interests of their relationship (military on the one side, mercenary on the other) are laid out. So far so good and all seems to be shaping up for an interesting ride. Then, as if the producers couldn't help themselves in a post Trinity world, a fist fight looms and the next thing you know Boyd has performed a double handed ear slap on a dumb faced adversary accompanied by a twanging spring sound effect. Oh dear. The ensuing extended brawl embodies everything that went wrong with the genre in its latter period and takes the film down an ill-judged path which it cannot survive with its integrity intact. From this moment on we see-saw with little concern for consistancy between a serious narrative and a spoof and the viewer is left wondering what, if anything, were the people responsible thinking?

Let me make myself clear. I am not a great fan of parody westerns but, when handled correctly, they can be entertaining. There is nothing wrong with a comedy western if that is what the film makers set out to make. They may not be everyone's cup of tea but in the right hands are harmless fun. But you can't have your cake and eat it. If you are going for laughs don't include a threat of torture or expect me to engage in a serious story thread. It needs to be one thing or the other or at least play the middle ground without venturing too far in either direction. The makers Those Dirty Dogs appear to have been unable to decide which way to go and the end result, despite its potential, is unsatisfying whichever way you cut it.

I'll give two examples as to what I mean. The film opens with a massacre carried out by Angel Sanchez (Simon Andreu) and his men. Sanchez is clearly a nasty piece of work and is played strictly straight in this regard. But Sanchez is not the big boss. He works for General Lopez and it is this ultimate leader who Stephen Boyd has been sent to tackle. Yet when we meet the Generalisimo he turns out to be a strutting buffoon of a man who is neither menacing nor in any way believable as a genuine threat to anyone. The scenes which include him are cringe worthy and undermine everything the narrative is built around. Not only that but despite their obvious intention they are just not funny either. Why they included him at all is beyond my comprehension. Sanchez would have sufficed perfectly well as the prime villain and, indeed, by the film's climax it is he who becomes the main antagonist to Boyd whereas Lopez is killed off almost in passing and without any real focus. Secondly, despite the nonsense surrounding Lopez and the Trinityesque fist fights we are brought to an abrupt about face in a scene where a woman is interrogated by Boyd to find out the whereabouts of the bandit gang. In a film which has become increasingly parodic in style seeing this woman's dress front violently ripped open by the supposed hero is genuinely alarming and in complete contrast to the pervading atmosphere to this point. Boyd then goes on to threaten the bare breasted woman with a blade, promising torture if she doesn't offer up the information he wants. Where in heck did this come from? It's almost like a scene from a different film. Moreover, it is quickly followed by the woman throwing herself at her attacker, offering herself willingly, whereby Boyd becomes the embarrassed and overcome victim who we are expected to laugh at. It's like the whole film is exhibiting more mood swings than a pre menstrual bipolar teenager. This particular scene is also just plain ill judged. Without it I could probably have watched it with my kids and the silliness would have been absorbed a little easier. With it and family viewing is out of the question. Moreover, it undermines the character of the main protagonists and left me feeling confused and just a little bit dirty. In fact the scene is so badly devised and poorly executed that it sticks out in the mind throughout the rest of the movie; casting a shadow that obscures, for me, what merits the film genuinely has.

And, despite all my complaints, the film does have some merits. Garko is always likable and his character of Korano, if somewhat underdeveloped, is entertaining and has some real potential to be exploited further. To be honest I find it hard not to enjoy anything that Garko appears in to some degree and it has to be said that he carries off his part faultlessly. Fans of the Sartana franchise will also probably enjoy his unconventional use of the umbrella; using it as a hidden gun to mow down his adversaries with bondlike precision. Simon Andreu is fine as the mexican bandit and although Harry Baird doesn't bring much to the table he does what is required of him well enough. Stephen Boyd is also good value for the most part and although this is not his best performance by a long chalk his very presence is a bonus. He even sings and co writes the theme song; a ditty that will stay with you for days afterwards. I still can't get it out of my head no matter how hard I try. In fact the music in general is probably one of the films undeniable strengths. Nico Fidenco delivers an excellent score which really deserves to hang on to a better all round film.

In many ways it is probably the film's strengths and potentials that throw its weaknesses and failings into a greater spotlight for me. This shouldn't be such a poor and disappointing movie. It has a number of good ingredients and, in parts, works well enough to suggest it could have been a pretty decent film. But its ill judged character and plot decisions and, above all, its inconsistancy and inability to decide what kind of film it wants to be leaves me feeling short changed. A pity as I wanted to like this film much more but, in the end, I just couldn't.

I Want Him Dead

2009-05-04T08:28:00.005+01:00

Dir: Paolo Bianchini

1968

Clayton, (Craig Hill) a former scout for the Confederacy, seeks revenge after his sister is raped and murdered by local bad guy Jack Blood (Jose Manuel Martin). His search for Blood is complicated by the fact that the villain works for a ruthless capitalist named Mellek (Andrea Bosic) who has plans to prolong the civil war for his own economic ends by assassinating two generals who are meeting to discuss peace terms. Jack Blood is the man Mellek appoints to carry out these assassinations and Clayton's pursuit of him leads him into deeper and more difficult waters as the two plot lines converge.

I Want Him Dead, considered by many to be Craig Hill's best Spaghetti Western, is nothing if not an interesting mix. The direction is sometimes inspired and at other times sloppy. It enjoys a good cast who offer some solid work but are occasionally under utilised. It has two plots for the price of one but somehow doesn't mesh them successfully enough. Yet despite its various failings it manages to stay consistantly interesting and is, ultimately, a Spaghetti well worth seeing.

The opening scene, before the credits, is a perfect example of the film's strengths and weaknesses. Clayton and his sister are riding through the desert. As they sit around their fire in the evening a seemingly riderless horse runs towards them. In a series of jump cuts using reflections, close ups and depth of field so profound it gives an almost fish eye effect Clayton becomes aware of impending danger and then dispatches two assailants with explosive and clinical skill. This opening sequence is carried off with consumate flair and skill but goes completely unexplained in the ensuing narrative. It stands alone as an inexplicable episode that has no obvious connection with anything else in the film but sets a mood which carries the viewer onwards wanting more. Unfortunately, it also sets a standard which is not always lived up to as the film continues and with the bar set this high every drop in quality becomes held in greater focus. This is a pity as the film is, in general, an enjoyable piece. It just lacks consistancy.

On the positive side, it genuinely is one of Craig Hill's better spaghettis. I would personally rank it alongside A Taste of Killing as my personal favourite of his. His pale eyed, steely look (a kind of cross between Franco Nero and Terence Hill) is perfectly suited to this tale of intrigue and revenge. A vehicle which requires him to do what he is best at; stay quiet and look cool. A feat he achieves successfully despite a questionable choice of hat. A straw woven object which he struggles to keep on his head while riding on occasion. In all seriousness, Hill plays his part well and benefits from the accompanying performances of the ever reliable Jose Manuel Martin as the main villain and the impressive Lea Massari, who carries off the part of the downtrodden but resilient captive servant girl with an effective balance of strength and vulnerability. In fact, in many ways Massari's is the stand out performance of the film. Her acting is impressive and she brings a genuine lift to every scene she is in. Jose Manuel Martin is always good value of course but I couldn't help but feel that in a role as central as this one for him he could of been used a bit more and his villainy expressed a shade more often. After his initial, almost casual rape and murder of Hill's sister (commited offscreen) he becomes little more than a worried looking fugitive. He is far better suited to the role of a fox than a rabbit.

Part of the problem here is that I Want Him Dead is actually two stories in one. The first is the straight forward revenge tale of Hill pursuing his sister's attackers. But this is eventually overlapped by the parallel plot of Mellek's greed driven assassination plan. And although this remains effectively a sub plot it gradually becomes more and more central. Martin's character is the link between the two plot lines and, consequently, this should make his role stronger. However, what happens is the two strands never really converge effectively and so the power of his character is diminished and lost a little. This is a pity as Martin is a gift to any film of this type and the opportunity was there to marry the two stories with greater impact. As it is, they come together in the showdown between Martin and Hill at the moment the assassination is supposed to take place but quickly split again; with the other gang members and Mellek having a denouement of their own, quite separate from that of our hero and villain. This lack of cohesion doesn't grate so much as to ruin the film but it certainly is an opportunity missed and, for me, is another example of how the film misses out on being truly outstanding.

That said, it is a thoroughly enjoyable film on the whole. The strengths of the lead players are more than enough to carry the viewer happily through the narrative despite any of its faults and the camera work, framing and composition of Bianchini and director of photography, Ricardo Andreu, are, at times, outstanding. Indeed, the film is visually nothing short of excellent and offers some truly memorable shots which, in tandem with Nico Fidenco's solid score, give it some much needed weight.

I Want Him Dead is, I think, best described as a mixed bag and your response to it is likely to be driven strongly by the preset convictions you bring with you. If you are a Craig Hill fan you are likely to see this as an excellent example of what he was capable of when given the right vehicle. If a Jose Manuel Martin fan you are just as likely to come away with mixed feelings; nice to see him in a larger role, sad to see him ultimately under utilised. If you are easily swayed by strong visual composition and effective framing this film will ring all your bells. If sloppy editing puts you off, those ringing bells will be dulled somewhat. And if, like me, you fall into all those camps, you may well come away from the film feeling an equal sense of satisfaction and disappointment. A film with some genuinely memorable moments, let down on occasion by easily avoided lapses. On balance though, a pretty decent spaghetti. By no means perfect but well worth an hour and a half of anyone's time and one which I have no trouble in recommending.

Return of Sabata

2009-04-30T19:13:00.009+01:00

Dir: Gianfranco Parolini

1971

Question: How do you take one of the most enjoyable, if somewhat campy films in the spaghetti western genre and follow it up with a sequel which is one of the most tedious?

Answer: I don't know, you'll have to ask Gianfranco Parolini.

For, in truth, I am unable to fathom how such a successful and seemingly straight forward formula apparent in Sabata could be messed up so badly in Return of Sabata while still maintaining most of the creative team that made the original such a joy. Of course, this is neither the first nor last time that such a thing has happened. The history of popular cinema is cram full of sequels which fall a long way short of predecessors and, as such, I suppose I should not be so surprised that Parolini failed in the same way as so many others. I guess that in the case of a film so dear to my heart (as Sabata most definitely is) my disappointment is sharpened that little bit more.

Sabata (Lee Van Cleef) struggles through a complex series of cross and double cross as he attempts to get to the bottom of corruption involving an evil town boss and his partner, the local bank president. Things are complicated for our hero due to the involvement of a long haired and thoroughly untrustworthy but lovable rogue while a pseudo love interest is supplied by a beautiful saloon girl. Assistance is also on hand though in the form of a rotund and rough round the edges local bum and a somersaulting acrobat. Twists and turns ensue until Sabata finally outwits the bad guy and departs with hefty amount of cash.

Astute readers will have quickly noticed that the above synopsis could actually fit either Sabata film. The original and the sequel have identical cores to their plots and personel. They also share significant cast similarities. Van Cleef, of course, appears in the eponymous role in both films, while Gianni Rizzo plays the banker, Pedro Sanchez the town bum and Aldo Canti the acrobat with only minor differences in detail. What's more, beyond Parolini himself as director, both also enjoy the behind the scenes skills of Marcello Giombini (music), Renato Izzo (screenplay), Sandro Mancori (cinematography) and Alberto Grimaldi (producer). So, perhaps, in order to try and understand why this film falls short where its predecesor triumphed, it may be more useful to look at the elements which differ rather than those which remain the same.

In terms of cast, the most obvious changes come in the roles of town boss and long haired trickster. And right away things are starting to get clearer. The original film benefitted enormously from the great talents and memorable screen presence of Franco Ressel and William Berger in these key parts. Ressel as Stengel was one of the great villain characters of the genre. Slimy, elitist and disdainful of all around him he had an almost gothic grandee quality and was a character who, although being camp as all hell, added a bizarre weight to an otherwise flimsy scenario. Berger, for his part, despite smirking his way through the whole piece was genuinely cool and possessed a hint of menace which made him a serious foil for Sabata. Again, despite the lightness of the overall piece, these were characters we could take seriously and their impact on the film as a whole is confirmed by the almost iconic status their images have become. Stengel looking haughtily down his nose whilst sporting one of the most flambouyant comb overs in cinematic history or Banjo rolling in the street firing his deadly musical namesake are pictures which turn up repeatedly. Not just when Sabata is being discussed but the wider genre too. Compare that to their counterparts in Return of Sabata. Reiner Schone, as Clyde, the Banjo equivelant, carries none of Berger's effortless presence. Whereas Berger's character always gave the suggestion that he could take on Sabata at any moment, Schone's is little more than a scheming fool; not only failing at every turn in his attempts to outwit his older adversary but also being in obvious and constant fear of him. He is also far from cool. In truth his beautifully manicured hairdo and moustache make him look more like a second rate lounge singer. As a consequence his position as foil is undermined. He offers no real threat and some important chemistry is lost as a result. Giampiero Albertini, to be fair, has shown himself capable enough in other films but as the main villain, Joe McIntock the town boss, he is being asked too much here. Moreover, for such a central character he gets very little screen time and any chance of us connecting with him or seeing him as a real threat are thereby undermined. What's more, his henchmen are shown to be ineffectual at every turn. All in all, in the area of two key characters, Return of Sabata is playing with a serious disadvantage.

But Return of Sabata's problems go deeper than just missing a couple of key personnel. Something else has gone awry here and it is the general tone of the film. The original Sabata was far from a serious film. It always had its tongue strictly in cheek and a large part of its charm is its kitsch value. Where Parolini went wrong with the sequel was allowing that lighter tone to dominate rather than merely underpin the films atmosphere. This is most obvious in the over use of acrobatics and connected nonsense but is set in place from the outset when the opening scene plays like an episode of The Avengers. Putting Sabata in a sideshow complete with clowns gets everything off on the wrong foot and is all the evidence we need to tell us that we shouldn't even try and take anything that follows seriously. It's a major mistake as the biggest quality of the film's star is his persona of controled meanness. When Van Cleef is obviously playing for laughs we are in serious trouble. He is clearly walking through his performance here and as a result just doesn't deliver in the fashion he should. You suspect he knows it's a turkey and is consoling himself by counting the money.

On top of all this we have a script and story that is just plain poor. The constant twists and turns of the convoluted plot are kind of expected territory for a film of this type and Parolini pretty much invented the formula. But things are taken to an extreme in this film and it doesn't take long before you stop caring. It doesn't help that all these machinations don't cover up the fact that the story is full of holes. Moreover, there are elements which beggar belief even when accepting that the film is no more than a fanciful romp. Annabella Incontrera's character of Maggie the newly arrived prostitute is a good example. She seems to have been included purely to try and convince the audience that Van Cleef was some kind of virile sex god as she does nothing at all except hang off his arm, look at him smoulderingly or inform others that he is giving her bedroom lessons. This may actually be the funniest thing in the film. Unfortunately it's not supposed to be.

I guess you can tell by now that Return of Sabata is not among my favourite films. It's not the worst spaghetti western ever made. That would be unfair. But, for me, it is one of the most disappointing. There were a lot of good people involved in making it and even accepting the problematic nature of all sequels it really should have been better than it is. In some ways I suppose it reflects the general downward trend of the genre which occurred during the 1970s. It certainly is a strong example of my axiom of '60s Van Cleef -Good, 70s Van Cleef - Bad.' (The Grand Duel being the exception which proves the rule) And it's increased comedic levels equally reflect the changing fashion 'Post Trinity'. And for those reasons I perhaps should not be so harsh on it. It is no worse than many other films of its type from the time. But I find myself judging it by what it could and should have been and in that context it is an absolute stinker. So if you are in the mood to see a bit of Sabata style fun, do yourself a favour. Stick with the original. You'll feel a lot cleaner in the morning.

I watched the MGM release of this film which is a big improvement from the old fullscreen VHS I used to have. The picture and sound is clean and bright although, to be honest, the widescreen format is somewhat wasted on such a 'town bound' film. It is a good quality release with, unfortunately, the usual 'no extras' I'm afraid. It's nice to see MGM releasing anything from the genre of course but I do wish they would put their money into something better.

Why Go On Killing?

2009-04-20T14:35:00.006+01:00

Dir: Edoardo Mulargia / Jose Antonio De La Loma

1965

A man is led, tied by the neck, by a gang of men to a spot outside of town. Here he is bound to a tree and shot, one by one, by each of the gang starting with the crippled patron who urges his men on, calling each by name until the deed is done and the victim hangs slumped against the ropes holding him up against the tree's bullet riddled trunk. Lopez, the patron, has had his revenge but the cycle of vendetta has, in reality, only been given another spur to keep it rolling around; another act of brutality to feed on. Thus opens Why Go on Killing? A Spaghetti Western full of despair and bitterness and decidedly downbeat in nature. Traits which became common in the genre over the next few years, but for a 1965 production this was still something of a rarity. Especially in a film with such a heavy Spanish influence. And, along with its status as Edoardo Mulargia's first western and one of the first for its star, Anthony Steffen, this little revenge flick is of more interest than it might at first appear.

And a revenge flick is what this film is, first and last. From the above described opening scene to the final, bloody denouement there is no other factor at play in the entire narrative. Well, maybe a little bit of greed and gun running, but nothing worth mentioning. Apart from that the story consists of one act of vengeful violence answered by another, without respite or attempt at finding a peaceful solution on the part of either of the two main protagonists in the struggle. Senor Lopez (Pepe Calvo) is not a man to bury the hatchet lightly and when the son of the man he has ritually executed comes home to settle the score he proves himself to be equally unwaivering in his sense of justice. This character is Steven McDougall (Anthony Steffen) and he feels strongly enough to desert from his post in the army to settle matters with the Lopez family despite having had some romantic link with Pilar (Gemma Cuervo), the daughter of the clan, before he went away. What ensues is a relentless stream of tit for tat actions from both sides which, if it wasn't so bleak in nature, could remind one of a Larel and Hardy comedy where someone's broken window is answered by a ripped off car headlight or a poke in the eye. The two mens' bitterness is seemingly bottomless and yet, surprisingly, the roots of this feud are never illuminated for us. We know that old man Lopez is confined to a wheelchair as a result of an attack by Steven's father but we never find out what caused that attack or whether it was an accident or a deliberate act of violence. Rather the film opens 'mid feud' so to speak. We are dropped into a pot boiling over with spite and recriminations and we just hold on for the ride as the two mens' hatred feeds on itself until there is nothing left to devour.

This sounds like all very hefty stuff and, to be fair to those involved, it is a pretty decent example of an early period spaghetti punching above its weight and attempting some down and gritty drama. But let's not get carried away. It's a Steffen film after all and so, although the solemn revenge theme runs through its core, action is never far away. Indeed, our man Tony is only on screen a few moments after his initial opening credits ride across the desert when he gets his first 'roll and shoot' opportunity and the bullets start to fly with abandon. This is all to the good. Steffen does a good job in the role of Steven but it would be unwise to ask more from his well of acting talent than is reasonable so plenty of running around, shooting and looking determined is a smart move all round. Anguished looks are better left to the bloodhound eyes of Calvo and the experienced victim of so many Italian genre films, Ida Galli, who plays Steven's unhappy and much abused sister. Altogether these personel cover all the bases required and when you add in the excellent Aldo Berti as the hired outside killer, Gringo, an extra tinge of nastiness completes a first rate cast for a film of this type.

Who should get the directorial congratulations is less clear. The copy I watched of this film credits the Spaniard Jose Antonio De La Loma as the man in the chair but it would appear that in reality it is just as possible that Mulargia helmed the show. Certainly Berti is on record as saying so but with these Italian / Spanish co productions it is very difficult to say with any real conviction who did what behind the cameras as so many credits were given for financial rather than creative reasons. Giusti credits them both, which is probably safest, but I sense the greater
hand of Mulargia. There is an air of darkness here that I have never seen in anything else released under De La Loma's name. If this is so it is a pretty good effort on his part and is an early sign of what he would be capable of with the right material in the right circumstance.

Speaking of credits, I found myself re-examining the opening credits closer than usual after watching this film. Why? You may be asking? Simple (If a little sad). Anyone familiar with the work of Anthony Steffen will know that in most of his westerns up until around 1969 he sported one of the worst hats ever seen in the genre. Small, folded up at the back and tilted forward this sartorial abomination was more akin to a battered and badly designed triby and meant that Steffen often appears less like a mean, cool hombre and more like a slightly drunk embarrassing uncle at your sister's wedding. Now, the only western Steffen made prior to this, as far as I can tell, was the German co production Der Letzte Mohikaner where he was garbed up in frontiersman buckskin as the character Deerslayer. So, Why Go On Killing? would appear to be the debut appearance of the 'Hat from Hell'. Therefore, unless our man Tony supplied the hat himself (the product of an ill advised or drunken bet perhaps) it would seem reasonable to assume that the person in charge of wardrobe on this production must carry the can for first introducing the dreaded Titfer to an unsuspecting cinema audience. As I said, I scanned the credits closely for this purpose and can state that Sergio Celi, costume designer for Why Go On Killing?, would appear to be the man to blame. Of course Steffen has to shoulder his share. If for no other reason than that he agreed to put the damn thing on and didn't have Celi thrown off the set. Either way, I feel strangely cleansed for having finally solved the mystery and put the issue to bed once and for all.

Why Go On Killing? is an important film I believe. (and not just because of Steffen's hat) It's the first western for Mulargia, Berti and others and one of the first for Steffen. But it is also a very good example of how the genre was developing away from the American mold and focusing on a clearly more mediterranean view of the old west. It still has traces of the previous style but the influences of Leone and a south european sensibility are becoming more and more dominant. The music in the film is a good example of this. Felice Di Stefano's score features a lamenting trumpet theme and electric guitar sequences which had become features of the spaghetti style but also includes incidental stuff which would seem more at home in a Bob Steele saturday matinee oater. Something of a strange mix but it still works just fine. It is not a great film. The characters have no real arc to speak of which, with subject matter this dark, is kind of essential for a film to show any real depth. But it holds its mood well and everyone involved conducts themselves competently. I certainly enjoyed it and would like to see it get a proper DVD release.

They Call Him Cemetery

2009-03-31T21:48:00.005+01:00

Dir: Giuliano Carnimeo

1971

1971 was a crossroads year in the Italian Western cycle. With the most creative and successful years apparently behind it the recent large scale success of the first Trinity film seemed to offer new hope for the genre. But the Trinity formula was a very different animal to that of its predecessors. It took a genre already well swathed in irony and led it across a dangerous line into open parody. It was a step which attracted a large new audience but also alienated many existing fans for whom extended fist fights and obtuse clowning was everything they didn't want in a western. However, the Trinity Express was far too powerful a train to ignore and more and more films followed its style over the ensuing couple of years. Some embracing its comedic style whole heartedly, others borrowing some of its lighter elements and enmeshing them in a less parodic way. Giuliano Carnimeo's They Call Him Cemetery is a film which, although occasionally flirting a little too much with the comedy elements, maintains a balance between irony and parody as successfully as any. Walking the line skillfully between the two and delivering an enjoyable adventure film which offers an opportunity for a great screen relationship between two of the genres favourite sons; Gianni Garko and William Berger.

The McIntire brothers return home after an eastern upbringing to find their crippled father and his fellow ranchers under the grip of local racketeers who are bleeding them for protection money under threat of violence. The brothers, full of moral fury but ill equipped for a town addicted to the gun, confront the bad guys and make themselves targets for the mysterious gang leader who keeps his face covered and enlists the services of a paid gunman to eliminate the new trouble makers. Unbeknownst to all, another gunman has arrived. A stranger who seems to have the welfare of the brothers at heart and who is an old and respected acquaintance of the racketeer's newly hired man. The two gunmen spar around each other, attempting to serve their own purposes without coming into open conflict or transgressing their 'professional code'. Eventually, their torn loyalties can lead them in only one direction and when the brothers discover the racketeer's true identity and where he has stashed all his ill gotten gains a showdown is inevitable. But who will win out and where will the dollars end up?

Garko had already extended the ironical boundaries of the western with his Bond-like, almost supernatural, characterisation of Sartana; first under the direction of Gianfranco Parolini and then Giuliano Carnimeo. With Cemetery much of the look and feel of that successful series was maintained. The ultra cool hero, an element of mystery to be solved, uncanny and seemingly effortless shooting ability all show Sartana's influence but adjustments were also made to accommodate a generally lighter tone and allow for more comedic elements. The two 'greenhorn' McIntire brothers are the most obvious insertions which deviate from the previous formula. The plot of the film primarily follows their quest to rid their father of his racketeering adversaries. Garko's character, although central to the film, is merely the vehicle to their accomplishing this task; bailing them out of trouble, teaching them to shoot and generally watching over them like a guardian angel. Sartana would never have allowed anyone else to dominate one of his narratives quite so obviously. But there is also large amounts of screen time dedicated to the two Mexican servants of the McIntires and it is often through them that the increased comedy elements are generated

This increased comedic content in the film is its one real weakness. Although given a lighter tone from the very outset (an effective scene which includes a sharpshooting Granny and a baby pacified by sucking on a bullet) when Garko's character arrives the 'whacky' sound effects and silly ear slapping he gives a menacing bad guy threaten to send the film over the edge into irretrievable territory. This is a step too far for a Garko character and for a while I was concerned that there was no way back. But, luckily, from then on the line is maintained far more skillfully. Garko's role is centred far more on his relationship and rivalry with his fellow gunman, Duke, while the comedy is contained more fittingly with the Mexican sidekicks and incompetant but well meaning McIntire boys. This separation allows a far better balance to be maintained and facilitates one of the most satisfying elements of the film. The chemistry and rivalry which develops between Garko and Berger.

Cemetery, according to Carnimeo, is a character at once similar to Sartana yet different because he has a social component. Whereas Sartana was always chasing the loot for his own purposes Cemetery has less selfish motives and, ultimately, is acting on behalf of the down trodden in the story. Duke, on the other hand, represents the more traditional, self serving spaghetti figure and this, along with the characters' mutual respect and competitive spirit creates a good natured tension which both actors exploit splendidly. The world weary pair are always composed yet always scheming and looking to outwit each other while simultaneously avoiding a direct confrontation out of an obvious affection felt for each other. Garko summed it up best in an interview when he said that "you get the impression that these two characters already left a great tradition of Italo-Westerns behind." Which, of course, they had. Both in their characters and as actors. This is a great pairing and, for me, is one of Berger's very best performances. Playing the mercenary Duke with a deceptive air of charismatic boredom through which a surprising level of humanity shines. Make no mistake, this is Garko's starring vehicle but Berger completely steals the show.'

It's also worth noting that Bruno Nicolai's score is of the very highest order too. A catchy, yet haunting theme runs through the whole score and proves to be as effective for rousing as well as poignant scenes. And there are plenty of both of these as Carnimeo guides us through a skillful mix of moods as the story unfolds. The rest of the cast perform ably. There are cameo appearances for genre favourites Franco Ressel, Nello Pazzafini, Rick Boyd and Ivano Staccioli (all of whom are always welcome) while the two McIntire brothers are handled well enough by British unknowns Chris Chittel and John Fordyce. British viewers may well recognise Chittel however, as he has been a long standing regular on popular soap opera Emmerdale for some years, playing the character Eric Pollard.

Altogether, Carnimeo delivers a very solid mix. Working with a good script from Enzo Barboni, the creator of the Trinity films, and utilising the talents of his two leading men admirably he weaves a successful blend based on a predominantly light hearted palette without getting too lost in open comedy or slapstick. He loses his footing at times but recovers well and the end result is an enjoyable if undemanding ride. If you like your spaghettis on the lighter side this is a must see. And even if you are more a fan of the darker sort (which I certainly am) this may well be the film which softens your position a little.

$10,000 Blood Money

2009-03-24T09:40:00.002Z

Dir: Romolo Guerrieri

1967

If someone were to ask you to sum up the characteristics of the Spaghetti Western genre, the elements which differentiate it from the classic Western, you would probably include the following factors.

1. An increased level of cynicism and calculated violence.

2. A heightened use of music to illustrate character and drama.

3. A seemingly amoral 'anti hero' protagonist driven by greed or vengeance.

4. An acute sense of 'cool' in its main characters which borders on the fetishistic.

5. Heavily stylised visual composition drawing on the iconic geography and symbols of the west.

6. An undercurrent of religious and sexual tension which lies obvious but undiscussed.

If you were to look for a film which encompasses all of the above to such a degree that you could almost be forgiven for thinking it was designed as the perfect example of the genre you need look no further than Romolo Guerrieri's $10,000 Blood Money. On the surface a simple story of a bounty hunter's quest to pull in a villain worthy of the title's price but in reality a film which offers so much more and during its dramatic journey subverts the image of the western hero more than any film I can recall. It also happens, in my opinion, to be one of the finest italian westerns ever made.

Django (Gianni Garko) is a bounty killer, and a particularly ruthless and mercenary one at that. He is only interested in the money and he always brings his men in dead. Recently released convict Manuel Vasquez (Claudio Camaso) raises his interest as he goes on a crime spree but, in a show of extreme cynicism, Django opts to wait before going after him as he believes he will commit more crimes and therefore be worth more money if given a little more time. At the story's outset Vasquez is worth only $3,000. Django sets his target at $10,000. Then, and only then, will he make his move. This price is eventually reached after Vasquez kidnaps the daughter of local rancher Mendoza and the old patron offers to double the $5000 reward being offered by the state. This comes at the same time that Django is on the verge of quitting the profession and leaving with the lovely saloon owner Mijanou (Loredana Nusciak). He succumbs to his greed and, despite her telling him she will be gone in six days, he leaves her in search of Vasquez. After a number of twists during which Django teams up with Vasquez in pursuit of even more money, the bounty killer and prey have their final and inevitable showdown in a desolate and windswept ghost town.

£10,000 Blood Money is crammed full of issues one could discuss but seeing as though this is a review and not a doctoral thesis I will limit myself to the two most obvious and subversive in the context of the western genre; of both the classical and Spaghetti persuasion.

To begin with, in a field of popular cinema well known for its violence and killings this film is possibly the most murderous. That is not to say it has an inordinately high body count. There are countless films which boast more general carnage. What I mean is that in the case of all the deaths shown in this film every one of them is cold blooded. It is a convention of the genre that the hero at least, even if he kills with seeming unfeeling willingness, will confront his adversaries in some form of open conflict. Usually he will wait for his opponent to go for his gun first or will react to being fired on or threatened in some way. In £10,000 Blood Money its main protagonist does neither. He fires from dark alleyways or behind door frames. He kills when they are unready and often unarmed. What's more, he will pump a few extra bullets in their defenseless carcasses just to make sure. This kind of callous if logical approach to killing is usually the strict domain of the villain in these films. The hero, however amoral he may seem, will usually conform to the accepted code and allow his opponents the opportunity to be overwhelmed by his superior speed and skill with a pistol. In this film Django offers nothing of the kind and, as such, Mijanou's accusation that his "profession is paid murder" is only too accurate. Faced with such a 'hero' the villain is obviously not to be outdone. Vasquez kills with equal impunity but perhaps the only real differentiation between the two is the relish he appears to take in it. In fact, when the story calls for a crime of real resonance to motivate the drama it is not a killing at all but the abduction of a woman with all its implied connotations which takes the fore. When Vasquez wants to really hurt the man he blames for sending him to prison he takes his daughter, sneering at the father "Don't want me for a son in law? Don't worry, I won't marry her."

It is of course not surprising that no weddings are planned. Not least because there is an elephant in the room throughout the entire film; dominating almost every scene yet never being spoken of. That elephant is the obvious sexual tension at work between the two male protagonists. A tension which would probably only be relieved by a fishing trip or two up Brokeback Mountain. In a genre filled with simmering masculinity it is not difficult to find homo erotic references if one should choose to. But it is less common to see such obvious, albeit unspoken inferences threaded throughout a western the way this one does. In one of the very first scenes of the film Django and Vasquez pass each other in the desert riding in opposite directions. They eye each other silently as their paths cross. Evaluating each other as adversaries? Possibly. Indulging in a subverted male gaze? Just as likely, as ensuing scenes suggest more and more overtly. At one point the two men choose hand to hand combat over gunplay and after exhausting themselves physically slump happily onto the hay covered floor like two spent lovers. And just in case all this is not enough there is a particularly memorable scene where Vasquez grabs Loredana Nusciak by the face and plants a big lusty kiss on her lips only to slowly lift his eyes while doing it and gaze heavy lidded at Django. Whew! And in leather trousers too.

What is important here is not the gay references per se but the fact that the characters' actions, in particular Django's, are driven by this latent and seething sexual tension to the point where at one point it seems as though the bounty killer will give up his prize. It is only when Vasquez betrays his trust and murders the departing Mijanou that Django regains his resolve, pursuing the bandit finally out of vengeance rather than greed. It is also worthy of note that despite all these gays suggestions no one is played in any way camp. Nor is their implied sexuality offered as an obvious manifestation of wickedness as in Django Kill! or Requiescant or a myriad of other films where the villain's homosexuality is shown as an example of his twisted character. Here it is just a theme to be explored and left for the viewer to react to in whichever way they choose.

This film plays with so many of the conventions of the western genre that I came away from it feeling like I'd been slapped around. The subversion of every moral code usually to be found even in the most gritty of spaghettis, the undermining of even the most ambiguous of anti heroes, the sheer callousness of all the central male characters' actions. And all done with such style and skill and in such a thoughtful fashion. I couldn't help but suspect that $10,000 Blood Money might just be one of the most important films of the genre. A second viewing only strengthened my conviction. All of the above elements would be enough on their own to make it a worthy film for anyone's attention. But in addition we are offered a 'Patty Hearst' twist, an inversion of male /female roles (when was the last time you heard a male lead in a western ask his departing girlfriend to "take me with you"?) and a hero who's lust for money is shown as an unhealthy addiction which he can't kick. Anything else? Oh yes, there's the excellent score from Nora Orlandi which uses the Theremin (or something which sounds damn like it) and bell chimes to skillfully illustrate character and set a mood of eery melancholy throughout, a great script from Ernesto Gastaldi and masterful direction by Guerrieri who pieces the whole thing together with subtlety and style. Add to that some beautiful cinematography by Federico Zanni wonderfully lit and composed and you have a total package that I would recommend to anyone and everyone. It also features the marvelous Fernando Sancho and so much eye make up lathered onto Garko and Camaso you could be forgiven for thinking the whole thing was sponsored by Max Factor.

I had known of this film for many years and heard good things about it but for one reason or another had never got around to seeing it until just recently. It was well worth the wait. Not just because of how much I enjoyed the film itself but also because it proved that despite 30 odd years of being a fan and some two hundred spaghettis viewed, there are still jewels out there for me to discover. Long may it continue.

In a Colt's Shadow

2009-02-28T19:34:00.007Z

Dir: Giovanni Grimaldi

1965

In the early days of the Italian Western cycle there were a number of films which leaned heavily on the previous American style. Most films produced in 1963 and 64 fell into this category but after the success of Fistful of Dollars the distinctive 'Spaghetti' styling we have come to enjoy began to develop and the productions which followed in 1965 and 66 were influenced as much by Leone and Corbucci as by their U.S predecessors. But the manner of the traditional U.S western still cast a long shadow during these transition years and a number of films from around this time showed an equal bias between their American and European roots. In a Colt's Shadow is a perfect example of this duality; a western which pays equal homage to the godfathers of both camps: Sergio Leone and John Ford.

Two pistoleros, Steve Blaine (Stephen Forsyth) and Duke Buchanan (Conrado San Martin) rid a Mexican village of their bandit oppressors but in the gun battle Duke is seriously wounded. He gives his share of their fee to his younger partner but, knowing that Blaine intends to marry his daughter and retire to a farm, stipulates that he must stay away from the girl or face his wrath. Blaine ignores the older man's instructions and sets out for a new life with Duke's daughter (Anna Maria Pollani) in tow. Unfortunately, they wind up in a town run by two corrupt bankers; Jackson (Franco Ressel) and Burns (Franco Lantieri) and Blaine is forced to use the gun he had hoped to put away for good. Moreover, once Duke recovers and hears of the young love birds plans he sets out to catch up with them and make Blaine pay for his defiance.

As mentioned above, In a Colt's Shadow has much of its look and feel in the older American style and, to begin with at least, this does not do it any favours. I'm a big fan of U.S westerns but when their style is simply aped it rarely comes off without appearing corny and false. The opening dialogue in this film between the two pistoleros for example is painfully wordy and wooden and the viewer could easily be forgiven for thinking that the rest of the film would be as clunky. And in fact in some scenes this proves to be so. But as the story progresses the 'Italian-ness' of the piece forces its way through. For all the hero's stiff conventionality the villains in this movie are pure Spaghetti and the action scenes and final showdown are superbly executed with a flair and vigour rarely seen in Hollywood films of the period. What results is a real hybrid with overt nods in the direction of both styles.

Giovanni Grimaldi was principally a writer rather than a director so it is not surprising that his style behind the camera is somewhat derivative in its nature but his cinematic quotes, though obvious, are quite pleasurable to behold and are well crafted and integrated into the narrative. The opening door of the ranch house, shot from the interior to reveal a stark black frame around a figure bathed in bright exterior light is lifted straight from John Ford's The Searchers but an interesting twist is added by the inclusion of violence in the frame. A shot that is repeated for good measure with two gunmen instead of one a little later. He makes an equally overt reference to Leone's style however in the final showdown scene where the build up is drawn out, squeezing every last drop of expectation possible from the increasing tension. Unfortunately, much of this good work is undermined by a somewhat syrupy ending but when considered as a whole it's a pretty solid piece. The visuals are good, which could well be the work of cinematographer Stelvio Massi as much as Grimaldi, and the score from Nico Fidenco fits well.

But the element which struck me most was the interesting cast. The film's lead, Canadian actor Stephen Forsyth, was possibly the least interesting on show. Although in real life he is an intriguing figure. After making around a dozen films in Italy including a few unexceptional westerns and the more celebrated Hatchet for a Honeymoon with Mario Bava, he moved to New York and carved out a career for himself as a multi media artist. Working as photographer, actor, musician, poet, choreographer and performance and video artist. Difficult to imagine from his somewhat one dimensional performance here that he was so multi faceted. Thankfully though, he is playing opposite a plethora of stalwart Spaghetti baddies in this film and they provide some wonderfully eccentric moments. Franco Ressel, a firm favourite of mine, offers perhaps the most compelling performance. A tight wound ball of arrogance, sadism and conceit he explodes at one stage in a magnificent torrent of rage and unleashed frustration, whipping frantically with a switch at an inanimate wooden post like some demented and ill equipped lumberjack. Franco Lantieri, as Ressel's business partner, is similarly psychotic. Manically sensitive about his wooden right hand, he shows equally unhealthy levels of spitefulness and cowardice. The former when in a position of advantage, the latter when his one good hand is under threat. I love this kind of pantomime villainy and in the context of this storyline it works perfectly. Adding much needed colour to an otherwise fairly pedestrian plotline.

Conrado San Martin plays the less featured but equally important role of Duke Buchanan with a solid level of stoic flair. A veteran of a bucket load of Spanish and Italian films, San Martin worked in just about every genre imaginable. Medieval adventures, Peplums, Eurospies, as well as a handful of Spaghettis, he also featured in a couple of Spanish Horror pieces for Jess Franco. He also made a few films with Sergio Leone. Appearing uncredited in both Once Upon a Time in the West and Fistful of Dynamite but also in a featured role in Leone's first film as director, The Colossus of Rhodes. Such experience shows through in his largely understated performance and despite the poor level of dialogue he has to work with (judging by the english dub at least) he carries off his part well and I would like to have seen more of him.

As for the female performers, well Anna Maria Pollani is not given much to work with. Her role as romantic squeeze and disobedient daughter is unfortunately more passive than it could have been but the void is more than filled by the bad girl of the piece played by Helga Line. Her saloon girl, Fabienne, is treacherous, conniving and self seeking so Miss Line has a much better role to get her teeth into and she does a fine job. Although I must say things could have been improved even further had her part been filled by Rosalba Neri. An unfair slight on Helga perhaps, but I can't help but fantasize.

In general terms I think it is fair to say that In a Colt's Shadow is something of a mixed bag. An American style western but with strong spaghetti flavour; a well staged action film which is sometimes too wordy and sickly cliched; a largely derivative styled genre piece with some genuinely well crafted visuals. It is all these things and more. But I think, for me, its strengths outweigh its weaknesses and helped along by some strong performances in key roles and some genuinely impressive stunt work during its excellent action sequences I found it to be a good example of the earlier stages of the Italian Western cycle and a film I thoroughly enjoyed as a result.

The version I watched of this film was the excellent Imagica edition. Very nice widescreen picture which really showed the film's visual style off at its best. Certainly the recommended edition if you can get it or a copy thereof.