A Bullet for Sandoval

Dir: Julio Buchs

1969

When reviewing a film like A Bullet for Sandoval it is impossible not to be diverted into a discussion of "When is a Spaghetti Western not a Spaghetti Western?" Because the answer in this case is clearly "When it is a Paella Western." That is to say, that despite it's inclusion and acceptance in the general canon of Spaghettis it is, in reality, better described by the Iberian label as it's heart, soul and major influencing factors are firmly based in Spain rather than Italy. In general terms this kind of hairsplitting is irrelevent, in my opinion. The Spaghetti / Euro Western genre has too many examples of cross over and confusion to allow oneself to be bogged down or restricted by pedantic pigeon holing. However, in the case of A Bullet for Sandoval the Hispanic influence is too strong to ignore.

To begin with, the primary personel of the film, from director and scriptwriters to the majority of the cast are all either spanish or latin american in origin. But also, the story is a tragedy in the true sense of the word and following very much the Spanish tradition of tragic drama. Two men are driven by pride and revenge and allow these passions to over rule their better judgements. They are both tragic figures in the traditional sense. That is, great men who fall due to a tragic weakness they are unable to overcome. Such men, in countless Spanish Golden Age dramas, can only find redemption in death and such is the case in A Bullet for Sandoval.

John Warner (George Hilton) is a soldier fighting with the Confederacy during the American Civil War. On discovering that his beloved Rosa is carrying his child and on the point of death he deserts and returns to his Cholera ridden home town to marry her before she dies in shame. In order to do this he must confront her father, Don Pedro Sandoval (Ernest Borgnine) a powerful rancher who despises Warner as a Gringo and has forbidden their marriage in the past. Warner arrives too late. His sweetheart has died in child birth and Don Pedro will not allow Warner to see her. Instead he gives him his baby son and tells him to take it away.

Accompanied by another deserter, Warner sets off with the baby but due to the Cholera epidemic they are turned away by everyone they meet on the road asking for help. Eventually the infant dies and Warner is turned into an embittered outlaw bent on exacting revenge on all who turned their back on him and his child. He embarks on a spree of attacks and retributions assisted by a group of desperadoes he has accumulated along the way until his path takes him, inevitably, and tragically, back to Sandoval.

George Hilton gives one of his better dramatic performances here in a film which quickly shows itself to be far more of a melodrama than an action flick. Despite its opening sequence which follows a Yankee soldier robbing the dead littered across a battlefield, the general tone, especially in the first half of the picture, is one of implicit rather than explicit violence. It is not until Warner's infant son dies and he turns into a cold hearted revenger that the real action is introduced and even here there is a clear policy on the part of the director to show the killer rather than the killed, the aftermath rather than the point of death. This is not an unwavering policy but time and again we see Warner and his men involved in shoot outs with various adversaries only for the camera to turn away before the victim falls and return a moment later to show the corpse or perhaps just his lifeless hand lying next to a dropped pistol. Indeed, the most obvious example of this is in the final scene in the corrida when Warner and his men face overwhelming odds in a 'Butch and Sundance' type denouement. However, it seems to have been applied to gunfights only. When Don Pedro meets his eventual and gorey end it is shown in prolonged detail. A point in the film which consequently stands out as shocking and deliberate in its intensity.

Ernest Borgnine's performance as the bullying pariarch is a solid one too and he exhibits the character's contrasting attributes well. Predominantly presented as stubborn and bitter, in the scene where he breaks down in a passionate lament to his deceased daughter, Don Pedro is also exposed as a man with hidden and tortured emotions. This was, in fact, Borgnine's only appearance in a european western. A pity, as his bear like appearance and ill tempered screen persona lent itself well to the genre and could have been utilised in a variety of roles. As he shows here, he was a good, and often underestimated actor too.

Other contibutors worthy of mention are Leo Anchoriz as the lapsed priest turned outlaw whose screen presence makes far more of the supporting role than would have appeared in the script. Gianni Ferrio who delivered a fine musical score and director Julio Buchs whose handling of key scenes was first class. I have read that italian Lucio Fulci was co director on this project but I am more willing to believe George Hilton who has insisted that Buchs was in charge throughout.

My one criticism of the film would be that it is somewhat episodic in nature. The story seems to jump ahead at times and some scenes arrive unexplained. However, I suspect that these failings are due more to the excessive cuts made to the DVD version of the film than to the original product delivered by Julio Buchs. Unfortunately, despite the version I saw being the best available that I am aware of it is so heavily cut that one of the central characters (Rosa, Sandoval's daughter and the person at the centre of his feud with Warner) does not appear at all despite the actress who played her, Annabella Incontrara, originally having prominant billing. Now I'm not as much of a purist as some on the subject of cuts made to films but it seems to me that it is impossible to take over 15 minutes from a film of under 2 hours without making a major impact. And to cut out a character so central to the drama would be laughable if it wasn't so annoying. It is to the film's credit that it remains so enjoyable despite this butchering.

All this not withstanding, A Bullet for Sandoval is a movie well worth viewing in any form. It is a film with a genuinely dramatic narrative which, in a genre often dominated by action for action's sake, is refreshing and worthy of support. It contains some truly memorable scenes, some of the central actors' best performances and will reward anyone who settles down in front of it. It is also a fine testament to the fact that good westerns made in europe were not just the bastion of the italians. The spanish were also capable of producing first class pieces and exhibit just as much of a national style as their Roman cousins.

But if there is a company out there in possession of an uncut print, do us all a favour and get it released. You will win the undying gratitude of a lot of fans.

A Stranger in Town

Dir: Luigi Vanzi

1967

Also known as For a Dollar Between the Teeth (a title that links to an image near the end of the film) this was the first outing by Tony Anthony as The Stranger, a character based heavily on the Clint Eastwood persona from Leone's Dollar trilogy. Followed almost immediately by The Stranger Returns, later by the hybrid curiosity The Stranger in Japan and finally by the surreal Get Mean, this series varied largely in quality but the first two, at least, proved to be solid efforts that overcame the shackles of their largely derivative origins.

Arriving into a seemingly deserted mexican town the Stranger witnesses a massacre of soldiers by the bandit leader Aguila (Frank Wolff) and his men who then proceed to don the army uniforms themselves and await the arrival of a troop of U.S cavalry. Concluding that this act is a prelude to an attempt to steal the shipment of gold being delivered by the troop Stranger ingratiates himself into the bandit's gang and assists them to collect the gold without firing a single shot. This happy beginning to their relationship does not last of course and Stranger soon finds himself beaten and running for his life with only a single gold coin to show for his troubles. Our hero, or rather anti hero, is not about to settle for such an outcome however, and soon turns the tables on his treacherous co conspirators, takes back all the gold for himself and finally settles the score with Aguila, his right hand man (Raf Baldasarre) and their beautiful but wicked partner Maruja (Gia Sandri).

Anthony's Stranger, although clearly based on the Eastwood character is, happily, not an attempt at carbon copying. There are certainly similarities; in costume and taciturn nature, but this Stranger is more vulnerable than the hero of the Dollars films and relies as much on his wits as his guns. This makes for a more interesting character, and fits well with Anthony's more diminutive stature. Indeed, he spends much of the film getting the stuffing knocked out of him and even suffers the indignity of being whipped mercilessly by a sadistic and increasingly aroused woman. Not something you could imagine happening to our man Clint.

Meanwhile, just as Anthony is based on the man with no name from A Fistful of Dollars, the chief bad guy of the piece, Aguila is based equally on Gian Maria Volonte's Ramon from the same film. And like Volonte, Frank Wolff brings a satisfying serving of manic menace to the role and, by extension, to the picture as a whole. Wolff is a genre favourite with many spaghetti outings to his credit and he always brings a touch of quality to anything he appears in. He is particularly effective in the role of a heavy and he performs to his usual standards here. My only criticism would be that he is not given the freedom to extend the character a little further and make him even more compelling. His implied open, if twisted relationship with the trouser clad Maruja is only hinted at but could have yielded far more interest if allowed to be explored further. Likewise, Maruja herself could have been utilised more and injected even more nastiness into the mix. In particular, her sexual ambiguity and predelictions had great potential for further development, not to mention exploitation! Her dominatrix tendencies come as somewhat of a surprise out of left field but at least they are allowed to explode into life when she whips Stranger to a pulp and herself into a state of carnal frenzy. Her lesbian leanings, however, are only hinted at when she leads Chica upstairs and attends to her in a far softer, affectionate fashion. Here is a character with some intriguing contrasts who is largely wasted and could have offered much more than she is allowed.

The final two main characters are Corgo, Aguila's right hand man played by habitual bad guy Raf Baldasarre and Chica, an unfortunate young townswoman played by Jolanda Modio, who finds herself swept up into the drama and, as a result, becomes the victim of the attentions of both Aguila and Maruja before being saved and then left by the Stranger. Both these supporting roles are played well. Baldasarre is always good value and went on to appear in this film's sequel. While Modio manages to maintain her presence while remaining silent for the entire picture. As an attempt to make a more palatable spaghetti western for U.S audiences this film explicitly follows a 'minimal dialogue' approach throughout but poor old Jolanda must have been somewhat disappointed to find she had no lines at all!

This is by no means one the all time great examples of the genre but it is solidly made and the central actors all bring enough to the table to ensure that the film's simplicity does not turn into banality. It is ably enough directed by Luigi Vanzi (working under the Vance Lewis monicor) and the score from Benedetto Ghiglia works well, cementing the 60s cool feel about the picture while coming close enough to a Morriconesque sound to make it pleasing without stooping to plagiarism. The narrative is certainly somewhat slow paced but never to the point of being tedious. On the contrary, it kept me entertained throughout and despite a few inconsistancies (The Stranger using a sawn off shotgun like a sniper's rifle does stretch the credibility a jot) was a solid example of the genre.

I like Tony Anthony's vulnerable hard man persona. It is a good balance, probably best played out in Blindman, but equally effective here and allows his character to be both ruthless and likeable at the same time. He is cool but not invincible and as a result A Stranger in Town offers all the ingredients I expect from a spaghetti but doesn't fall into too many cliches.

Definitely recommended.

Kill Them All and Come Back Alone

Dir: Enzo G. Castellari

1968

Enzo G. Castellari is, first and foremost, a great director of action sequences. In Kill Them All and Come Back Alone he showcases this skill non stop for the entire duration of the film. Don't expect any character development or complex drama here. It is fighting, shooting and explosions all the way with the deepest thing on show being Chuck Connors' tan.

Clyde (Chuck Connors) is hired by a Confederate General to carry out a raid on a Union stronghold and steal the million dollars worth of gold coins hidden there amongst an arsenal of dynamite. Clyde recruits a troop of five unsavoury characters to assist him in his quest and with the occasional help of Captain Lynch (Frank Wolff) the gang set about infiltrating the fort, grabbing the treasure and making their escape. All, of course, does not go strictly to plan and the situation is not helped by the untrustworthiness of all concerned. Nor indeed by the order given by Lynch to Clyde in regards to how he should reward his men after the robbery is completed. This order is where the title of the film is derived from as Clyde is instructed to "Kill them all and come back alone."

The premise of the film is clearly based on The Dirty Dozen, a very successful american war film from the previous year except, in true italian genre cinema tradition, the budget is smaller so we get a kind of 'Dirty Half Dozen' instead. The principle is the same though; with each villainous member of the gang expert in a different sort of violent conduct. Bogard the strongman, Blade the knife thrower, Deker, the dynamite expert, Hoagy the gunman and Kid, the baby faced killer.

The cast, apart from Connors and Wolff, is almost entirely made up of stuntmen and from the opening sequence onwards it is clear why. This is one of the most relentless action fests I have ever seen. No one is called on to act much past the odd grimace and an eventual death scene and there is not the slightest pretense that anything more subtle than a fistfight will be required of any of the protagonists. A dizzying number of punches are thrown, buildings blown up and extras slaughtered and everyone clearly has more fun than a fat bloke in a chocolate factory. This is pure, unashamed escapism from start to finish and Castellari is certainly the man for the job.

However, too much action and not enough else can leave the viewer feeling a little empty after a while and this film most definitely could do with a jot more substance. Even Castellari's previous outing, Any Gun Can Play, no Chekhov drama by any stretch of the imagination, had enough twists and turns to keep you interested and give cause for the action. Kill Them All and Come Back Alone doesn't even attempt that much and ultimately the film becomes forgetable as a result. This is a pity as Castellari proved himself capable of handling deeper storylines with genuine skill in films such as Johnny Hamlet and Keoma and his creative skills behind the camera, with framing and composition, were significant in my opinion. But in this film, apart from the occasionally interesting camera angle, it is only Enzo's skills at directing and choreographing action sequences that is on show. All of which he does very well of course, probably as well as anyone in the business, but I for one would have prefered to have more meat on those action bones.

That is not to say that the film isn't entertaining enough in it's way. It is pretty decent fun and I certainly enjoyed it for what it is. What it is, however, is chewing gum for the eyes. The same flavour from start to finish and no substance. Nothing wrong with that of course, I just found myself hungry for something more satisfying after it had finished.

Duello Nel Texas

(Gunfight at Red Sands)

Dir: Ricardo Blasco

1963

One of the very earliest (if not the earliest) films which can be described as a Spaghetti Western Duello Nel Texas is a very good example of how the european western was about to develop. The style is primarily influenced by the american westerns of the 1950s but this is no slavish carbon copy by any means. Rather, it is a mixture of source influences which vary from the american traditions of the genre to the southern european stylistics of its creators, all mixed up with a healthy dollop of comic book imagery for good measure.

Ricardo Martinez, also known as Gringo, returns home to Texas from fighting in the Mexican civil war and finds his adopted father murdered and family gold stash stolen. Gringo sets out to hunt down the killers and, as a result, crosses paths with Corbett, the local sheriff, Steadman, the saloon owner and two general no goods, Zeke and Kincaid Wilson. He also rekindles an old connection with Maria, the saloon owners partner which serves to complicate the proceedings even further. Eventually, with the help of his adopted brother and sister Manuel and Elisa, Gringo eliminates the parties responsible for the old man's death and faces off with the gang's leader in a textbook main street duel.

Ricardo Blasco (not even a household name in his own household) does a creditable job in the director's chair on this film although reports that Mario Caiano took responsibility for some of the direction makes it a little difficult to say how much each man should take credit for. The presence of Leone's cinematographer, Massimo Dallamano, behind the camera would also have added depth to the skill base and clouds the credit waters even further. Either way the film moves along at a good pace and there is a nice balance between action, drama and light relief with some effective framing at key moments. The final showdown between Gringo and Corbett is particularly well constructed and would fit easily into any post Leone western's format. Dramatically framed and drawn out to maximum effect with Giacomo Rossi Stuart performing almost grotesque death throws this is classic Spaghetti stuff.

Richard Harrison also performs to the top of his game and brings just the right level of presence and charisma to the role of Gringo. Harrison put in some good performances over the span of his considerable western career (Vengeance in particular springs to mind) but he is sadly remembered more for his poor films than his better ones. He is also, of course, remembered for turning down the lead in Fistful of Dollars and suggesting Clint Eastwood for a role which changed the whole face of westerns, not just in europe, but around the world. But forget all that, he brings something genuinely positive to Duello Nel Texas and he carries the film with real assurance.

That is not to say that Harrison is a one man band in the acting department here. Far from it. Giacomo Rossi Stuart plays the corrupt sherrif with some skill and Mikaela is almost Rosalba Neri like in her portrayal of Gringo's old squeeze, Maria. Her internal anguish and wrangling with the part she played in the events surrounding old man Martinez's death are handled with passion and complexity. It is also nice to see an early bit part for Aldo Sambrell as gang member, Garolo. A short lived part that ends in a violent death of course but then Aldo made such parts his stock in trade as the next few years unfurled.

Duello Nel Texas also boasts the first western score for musical maestro Ennio Morricone. Not one of his greatest by any means but it works well enough and the theme song, "A Gringo Like Me" reaches such high levels of cliched kitsch that it has become a veritable classic of its type. So corny that you can't help but love it.

This is by no means one of the great spaghettis of all time. But when compared to other films of the genre made prior to the explosive success of Fistful of Dollars it is a film of genuine quality and stands out as an example of what was just around the corner for european westerns. On the surface it appears to be constructed along traditional american western lines but with a little closer analysis it can be seen as very much a film with its heart in the mediterranean. Apart from the lead character all the good guys on show here are of latin descent. And even Gringo was raised by mexicans and defends their honour when insulted. The look and feel of the piece is also clearly a much closer cousin to that of the westerns all'italiana made in the next few years than anything created in the USA. There is a surprisingly large body count for such an early western too and some of the twitchy villainy of the Wilson brothers is reminiscant of Kinski at his nastiest.

Duello Nel Texas then, is worthy of a viewing for any fan of the genre but I will add a caveat of warning. I first saw this film as a fullscreen, public domain release under the U.S title of Gunfight at Red Sands and was generally underwhelmed by it. Seeing it more recently in a clear, widescreen version has made all the difference to my appreciation of the film. That is why I have reviewed it here under the italian title of Duello Nel Texas. The italian DVD release from RHV is well worth seeking out and rewards the viewer with a much better experience than that to be had from the cheaper U.S versions available.

The Implacable Three

Dir: Joaquin Luis Romero Marchent

1963

One of the very first european westerns which could be included under the umbrella term 'Spaghetti', The Implacable Three was a Spanish-Italian co-production which featured a cavalcade of names which would become very familiar. From Fernando Sancho and Aldo Sambrell to Lorenzo Robledo and Robert Hundar this film is littered with faces and names synonomous with the genre. However, none of the above artists are italian and despite the musical contribution of Francesco de Masi and the co-writing of Mario Caiano, I would argue that this is far more of a Paella Western than a Spaghetti one.

Of course, being a film from 1963, a full year before the release of Leone's genre defining Fistful of Dollars, it would be unfair to judge The Implacable Three by its similarity or difference to the bulk of italian westerns made in the following decade. Very few 'pre Leone' eurowesterns bear much relation to their 'post Leone' cousins in style or content as the genre was so heavily influenced by the success, both international and domestic, of the great man's works. But I do feel it is fair to say that even the early films of this type show elements of their national origin and it is relatively easy to recognise these elements. Bullets Don't Argue shows definite signs of what is about to come in the italian western, while Pirates of the Mississippi is clearly a dominantly german film despite its italian co-production status. In the same way, The Implacable Three is, for me, a predominantly spanish western reflecting spanish traditions far more evidently than italian, or for that matter, american ones.

The story is a straightforward 'revenge for a slaughtered family' tale. Cesar Guzman (Geoffrey Horne) returns home to find his pregnant wife murdered and his house robbed. He sets out immediately to track down the men responsible and exact his revenge and is quickly joined by wandering gunman, Silveira (Paul Piaget) who takes up the quest because "without risk, life isn't worth living". The two are later joined by Silveira's great rival and 'best enemy' Abriles (Fernando Sancho) and together they gradually eliminate all of the gang and close in on the man who actually killed Guzman's wife. This journey eventually takes them back to Guzman's home town and a confrontation with evil town mayor Hopkins (Antonio Gradoli) and his chief henchman McCoy (Robert Hundar) before the mystery villain is finally revealed.

This plotline could fit any number of Spaghettis so why do I identify it particularly as a predominantly Spanish rather than Italian tale?

The key reason is that the main characters here fit very closely with the classic male personae of Spanish theatrical tradition. They are 'galanes'; hidalgos, whose motivating force is honour above all else, whether that be by way of revenge for familial damage or merely by confrontation in defense of their reputation and self image. Such characters populate a myriad of 'comedias' or plays from the spanish Golden Age and their speech and modus operandi became as much of a genre stereotype in the 17th century as the laconic cowboy's did in the 20th. They are a familiar and popular convention in spanish fiction and, I believe, an iberian audience would have recognised Guzman, Silveira and Abriles as such immediately.

In particular, Sancho's character Abriles, embodies this character type . Quick to anger, and rabid in the defense of his own honour Abriles divides his time equally between fighting and courting the target of his romantic affections, Lola, the saloon girl. It is true that Abriles is not a man of high social status as most galanes would be but his personal code and attitude towards life and honour are the same.

Of course, I am not suggesting that The Implacable Three is purely a spanish comedia in western clothes. It is clearly not. There are plenty of western genre conventions here beyond the costumes and setting. But it is equally clear that this is not a simple attempt to mimic an american western in the traditional Hollywood style either. For example, none of the three heroes are american. Even Silveira, despite his fair hair and obvious parallels to Owen Wister's Virginian ("Smile when you say that"), is introduced as a Portuguese. In this story only the villains have english names.

The source of this spanish dominant feeling is not difficult to locate. Despite the italian contributions to this film's production it's chief creative personel are all spanish in origin. The director, Joaquin Romero Marchent, his cinematographer Raphael Pacheco and two of the three screenwriters, Jose Mallorqui and Marchent again, were all spanish. As was the other musical contributer, Manuel Parada.

The film also appears to be of a completely different era. The style is not just old fashioned, it verges on the antiquated; resembling more a western from the 30s or 40s than one from the 1960s. And it is this outdated quality which is ultimately the film's undoing. The italian dominated films of the 1960s were and still are popular because of their modern and innovative style. They were films which, despite their adoption of a traditional genre, were all about the modern day and its ambiguous moralities. They injected a sense of 'cool' into a popular artform which was losing touch with its contemporary audience. The Implacable Three embodies everything that Leone and his contempories ultimately moved away from and as such it is one of the last of the dinosaurs; living long enough to see the new breed that would replace it.

Marchent's film does have its qualities, and for those of us who remember fondly the simpler western of old it can still entertain. But it is probably best seen as a sign of why change was about to happen than as a signpost of what form it would take.

The Bounty Killer

Dir: Eugenio martin

1966

I have written before about good actors and directors whose work doesn't always maintain the same high standards that you expect from them. But with artists that are less well thought of you don't normally face this problem. As a rule of thumb, if someone is a bit second rate you can usually count on them to always be a bit second rate. The Bounty Killer directed by Eugenio Martin blows this theory out of the water.

My previous experience with Martin's work had been through Bad Man's River and Pancho Villa, two films from 1972 that did nothing for his reputation with me. On the contrary, they had set my mind firmly in the opinion that this was a lesser director churning out second rate films despite good casts. Bad Man's River in particular has the benefits of Lee Van Cleef, Gina Lollabrigida and James Mason and still manages to be a turkey while Pancho Villa, although better, is hardly a classic. Imagine my surprise then when The Bounty Killer not only showed signs of genuine quality but proved itself to be a tight, psychological oater of the highest calibre. In one swoop Eugenio Martin has transformed his reputation in my estimation.

The Plot is a relatively simple one. Bounty Hunter Luke Chilson (Richard Wyler) is trailing convicted bandit Jose Gomez (Tomas Milian) who has been assisted in his escape by a childhood friend (Ella Karin) from his village. Chilson's attempt to take Gomez back into custody is thwarted by the loyalty of the local people, all of whom remember Gomez fondly and believe he has been driven to banditry through injustice and persecution. However, as Gomez's friends descend on the settlement old friendships are tested and loyalties begin to unravel. Is Gomez really the man they think he is?

At the heart of this film is the central performance of Milian as the enigmatic bandit. Amazingly, this is the actor's first appearance in a western and it is a genuine tour de force. I couldn't help but be reminded of Brando in his quiet dominance of each scene. Subdued and understated, Milian's portrayal of Gomez suggests a tortured soul struggling with conflicting instincts. His face offers glimpses of inner monolgues and conversations going on that we never hear; only see the results of. But the overall impression is of a man committed to a path of self destruction; at once defiant and resigned to his fate. This is Milian at his very best and is a role which allows him to really flex his talent. When this happens you know you are in for a treat as he is without doubt the most gifted actor to regularly appear in the Spaghetti genre. There are a number of actors who look the part and who can handle the strong ,silent, hero type of role without breaking too much of a sweat but, for my money, Milian stands alone as a truly gifted actor who brings a completely different quality to the parts he plays. How he never became a major international star outside of europe is truly beyond me.

But, despite this clearly being a film dominated by Milian's performance it would be unfair to ignore the significant contributions by the rest of the cast and crew. Actors can't work without a script and this one is well constructed by Jose Gutierrez Maesso, James Donald Pringle and the directr, Eugenio Martin. Martin also handles the direction with real skill. His visual style may not be as flamboyant as some of his contemporaries but this film is always captivating to look at and his use of close ups, if more economic, never lacks impact. Milian's death scene, complete with dribbling, dirt encrusted mouth is a perfect example of this. Martin also keeps the story restricted to a few locations, in particular the tiny settlement, and this helps add a constant sense of claustrophobic tension to the entire piece. This is all assisted by the expert cinematography of future director Enzo Barboni and the fine musical score of Stelvio Cipriani.

The rest of the cast also bring solid work to the project. Richard Wyler carries the titular role effectively if without the level of ambiguity I would have liked, Ella Karin (or Helina Zalewska if you prefer) is convincing as the loyal girlfriend faced with a moral dilemma and Mario Brega gives possibly his career best performance as the town blacksmith whose actions in defense of Gomez come back to haunt him as time goes on. There is also, for the purest, a couple of very satisfying appearances from 'genre faces' Tito Garcia and Jose Canalejas as Gomez's gang members with suitably gritty and menacing visages. What more could you ask for except maybe Rosalba Neri smouldering in the background somewhere?

This then, is a first class spaghetti in anyone's book and well worth seeking out if you are able. It goes, of course, under a variety of titles depending on what part of the world you are in. The Ugly Ones, El Precio de un Hombre, even La Morte ti Seque...Ma non ha Fretta. But the easiest way to see it is to get the german Marketing Film release entitled Ohne Dollar Keinen Sarg which is pretty cheaply priced, has an english audio option and is available at amazon.de among other places. Highly recommended to anyone, but essential viewing for any spaghetti fan.

Bullets Don't Argue

(Le Pistole Non Discutono)

Dir: Mario Caiano

1964

If you ever need an example of how much influence Sergio Leone had on the italian western a viewing of Bullets Don't Argue will tell you all you need to know. It's a competantly enough directed oater with a decent Morricone score and good central performances by all concerned, filmed in the same Almerian locations and at around the same time as A Fistful of Dollars. Leone was even involved in the pre production work. But this film is as different an animal to Leone's first western as a Bengal Tiger is to a badger. Why? Well, let me count the ways.

To begin with the lead character in Caiano's film is an old school western hero of 1940s B movie proportions. In fact Rod Cameron, the star of the picture, was a B movie actor of the 1940s and, as such, couldn't have cut a more different figure to Clint Eastwood in 1964 if he had painted himself blue. In his mid fifties and thick set, Cameron appears more like a kindly uncle than anything else and although he is clearly at home on a horse and carries out his fight scenes with a confidence born of long experience he never really inspires excitement at any point. If Eastwood's cheroot smoking Joe epitomised a new era of cool, Cameron remained the vanguard of the luke warm.

As you would expect with such an old school central character the story line of Bullets Don't Argue follows a similarly traditional line. Sheriff Pat Garrett (Cameron) pursues two bank robbing bandits across the border into Mexico intent on bringing them back to face justice for the killing of the two staff members unlucky enough to have recognised them during the raid. Identified as local brothers Billy and George Clayton (Angel Aranda and Horst Frank) the bandits are easy to locate but prove harder for Garrett to transport back, especially once the existence of the $30,000 swag comes to the attention of mexican gang leader Santero (Mimmo Palmara) and he and his men pursue the lawman and his prisoners across the desert. After a few twists and turns Garrett finally is forced to hold up at the ranch of a friendly young woman and the younger bandit brother gets the opportunity to redeem himself in the face of Santero's superior numbered forces. No signs of any pragmatic morals here. Garrett is a straight shooting upholder of truth, justice and the american way while key bad guys Santero and Billy Clayton are rotten to the core.

If this wasn't enough, the friendly young woman ranch owner (Vivi Bach) has a syrupy nice little brother called Mike who wouldn't be out of place in an episode of Leave it to Beaver and who gets rescued from the flaming ranch house by our hero when the rest of us are all baying for him to be left in there to burn!

No, make no mistake, this film is based so heavily on the traditional style U.S western that it even appears out of date compared to american oaters of the pre spaghetti period. And Caiano admits this openly himself. He set out to make a traditional western and used plot threads and ideas from a host of famous U.S westerns of the 1950s as he went along. The examples of this poaching are seemingly endless, from the Sheriff's ruined wedding day (High Noon) to his transportation of the bandit to justice (3.10 to Yuma). It even has the Cavalry charging in to save the day for Pete's sake and you won't see that too often in an italian western.

And it is this open mimicing of it's american counterparts that really sets this film apart from the eurowesterns that followed the success of Leone's films. Caiano is not trying to set any new styles here. He is openly attempting to make a western, in europe, that looks as much like an american film as possible. And, in that, he was pretty successful. I was brought up on american westerns just like this and I still love them. Bullets Don't Argue, in that context, is a success and it's 'saturday morning pictures' qualities afford it a certain nostalgic warmth. Indeed, this film could have been shown at the Leyton Odeon (my childhood local cinema) on any given saturday morning in the 1960s and been received with foot stamping enthusiasm by an army of scruffy, lolly stick throwing urchins just like me whose prefered cinematic diet was satisfied by just this kind of straightforward horse and gun fest. It is fun and formulaic. What it isn't is innovative. It is a film which looks squarely into the past and that is why its comparison with Leone's effort of the same year is so stark.

But for all its differences (and they really can't be overstated) Bullets Don't Argue still shows hints of a european style about to emerge. It is almost as if, despite all its best efforts to mask its european origins, they just can't help peeking through. Part of this is almost certainly due to the Almerian landscape and locations. Rod Cameron may be a middle aged vanguard of virtue with an expanded waistline but he still walks down the same streets in Los Albaricoques that Eastwood and Van Cleef would immortalise soon after. There is also the contributions of Carlo Simi (set design) and Morricone (musical score) which add more resonances of spaghettis to come and, lastly, there are one or two faces in the cast who would go on to become familiar favourites and stalwarts of the italian style westerns. First among these, undoubtedly, is Horst Frank. Although younger, thinner and with shorter hair than when he became more familiar to us in later films his icy stare and calous wickedness is proudly on show here and his performance as Billy, the terminally mean Clayton brother, is the strongest in the film. He swaggers around killing, slapping and stealing without a moment's hesitation and his glowering presence adds a real edge to this otherwise wholesome canvas. The only disappointment is that we are denied the pleasure of a final showdown between him and the hero. A real missed opportunity in my view but probably symptomatic of the film's more mainstream goals.

Fundamentally then, Bullets Don't Argue was proof that the italians could make an american western with acceptable skill and genre understanding if they chose to. This film ticks a whole lot of general boxes and is entertaining in its traditional style. Thankfully, however, this style was not to be the dominant influence on eurowesterns in the coming years. It would be the more innovative style of Leone and its more morally ambiguous characters that became the dominant and defining image of the western all'italiana. And we can all be grateful for that.