Kidnapping

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.