Tomb of Torture (Metempsyco; "Anthony Kristye" [Antonio Boccaci], 1963)

Two young women (one of whom is played by Emy Eco, Umberto's sister) visit a seemingly abandoned castle, where they see the portrait of the beautiful Countess Irene, who mysterious vanished on the eve of her wedding night twenty years ago. The Countess Elizabeth (Django's Flora Carosello, billed here as Elizabeth Queen) demands that they leave, but they find all the doors locked. The girls fall victim to a gruesomely deformed man, who kills one and prepares to torture the other. Soon after, Dr. Darnell (Trinity is STILL My Name!'s Adriano Micantoni, aka "Thony Maky") arrives via coach at the castle, where the girls' bodies are being examined by a police constable. Said policeman believes they died of exposure, but the turbaned Raman (director Antonio Boccaci, aka "William Gray") thinks otherwise. Dr. Darnell, who is moving into the castle, has a daughter named Anna (Annie Alberti, aka Annie Albert) who is a dead ringer for the long lost Countess Irene.

Anna has a nightmare where she encounters several bizarre figures, including an individual clad in knight's armor who shoots a crossbow through her chest, after which she turns into Irene. Later, she meets reporter George Dickson while skinny dipping, and the two quickly become an item. The questions that must be answered are: is Anna indeed the reincarnation of Countess Irene, and if so, exactly how did the Countess die?

Tomb of Torture, originally known as Metempsyco, is an enjoyable enough piece of Gothic horror all'Italiana, but nowhere near the level of Mario Bava at the top of his game. Director Antonio Boccaci turned out a number of lurid and violent paperback novels prior to this film, so it's disappointing he didn't really go far enough here. Picked up for distribution in the United States by Richard Gordon, the dubbed version saddled many of the actors with questionable pseudonyms, with poor Adriano Micantoni in particular burdened with the unfortunate moniker Thony Maky, as stated above. The film was shown on a double bill with previous Diary of a Madman subject matter Cave of the Living Dead, which sadly is a better film in almost every way. While the Gothic tropes are all there - a decaying castle, a horrible secret, a lovely and innocent damsel in distress, etc. - it never quite gels into a solid film, and many things are left unanswered. Who is the monstrous torturer? What exactly were the Countess Elizabeth, Raman, and Dr. Darnell's connections to Countess Irene?

George and Anna have what seems like the quickest romantic connection in the history of Italian horror cinema. When they first meet, Anna thinks George is an annoying peeping tom, but soon comes to like him a bit. In the very next scene of them together, they're talking about leaving the castle and getting married. Keep in mind, there were no scenes in between developing their relationship, so I guess in the universe of this movie love at first sight is indeed a very real thing. Flora Carosello (or rather, the actress dubbing her voice) wildly overacts in the film's climax. It is interesting that the movie presents a character of Eastern ancestry whose ethnicity never really factors into the plot, though I've gotta deduct points for the fact he's played by the director in brownface. The most WTF line in the movie is when Dr. Darrell, flippantly dismissing the concerns of Constable Dobson, suggests he get himself an enema! Armando Sciascia's (The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein) atmosepheric music is without a doubt the best part of the movie. But if you want to judge for yourself, check it out on Fandor, assuming you have an account with them. And if you're still not sold, here's the trailer.

A Colt in the Hand of the Devil (Una colt in mano al diavolo; "Frank G. Carrol" [Rafael Baldanello], 1973)

At a prison rock quarry, Roy Koster (Seven Guns for the MacGregors' Robert Woods) gets into an altercation with a guard. Fellow inmate "Sulky" Jeremiah Scott (stage-turned-screen actor Attilio Dottesio) kills the guard with a pickax, and tells Roy he wants him to repay the debt when he gets out of jail. Jeremiah is brutally flogged for the killing, but before dying he says the word "Silvertown" to Roy, and gives him his cufflink. After his sentence ends, Roy rides into Silvertown, a town in Texas. At the saloon owned by Dennis McCorney (spaghetti western icon William Berger, sporting long hair and a mustache), Roy plays cards with three men, who seem alarmed when he produces the cufflink. Roy gives the alcoholic Thomas $10 in exchange for the location of Jeremiah's ranch. Thomas tells Roy the town is under the control of a gang led by a man named Warner, of which Roy's fellow card-players were members. Soon after, Thomas is found hanged with two $5 bills clenched between his teeth. Roy gives the undertaker money for his funeral, then goes out to the ranch, where he meets Jeremiah's grieving widow Martha (Giovanna Mainardi) and her children Grace (Fiorella Mannoia) and Phil (Ursus' Nino Fuscagni), who hold their late father in contempt. Phil is a member of Warner's gang. Warner's henchmen attempt to prevent Thomas' funeral from taking place, saying that he committed suicide and they are "good Christians," but Roy knows it was murder and guns them down. Martha reveals to Roy that Jeremiah was accused of robbery and murder after telling Warner (George Wang) and McCorney about his need for money. The duo, along with McCorney's dishwasher Sam Dayton (W Django!'s Mario Dardanelli) did not corroborate Jeremiah's story, and he was sentenced to ten years in prison. Convinced the man who saved his life was framed, Roy seeks to bring Warner to justice, in his own way...

The 1970s are generally considered a low period for the Spaghetti Western. The genre largely devolved into self-parody, in the wake of Terence Hill and Bud Spencer's Trinity films. Despite this, there were a few last great films of the genre, such as Enzo G. Castellari's Keoma (despite its infamous songs, which I personally find grow on repeated viewings) and Lucio Fulci's underappreciated Four of the Apocalypse. A Colt in the Hand of the Devil isn't on the level of those two films, but it is certainly one of the more watchable '70s SWs. Robert Woods and William Berger were both old hands at the genre at this point, and both turn in good performances, the debonair Berger in particular. (Curiously, although his character is listed on IMDB and the excellent Spaghetti Western Database as Isaac McCorney, he is referred to as "Dennis McCorney" at one point during the trial flashback, and therefore that's the name I'm going with for this review. This is somewhat similar to Berger's character in Lamberto Bava's Devil Fish, whose name initially appears on a sign as Dr. Donald West, but is later called "Walter" by his wife.) Popular singer Fiorella Mannoia as our hero's love interest is attractive and a talented actress. She was also, interestingly, a frequent stand-in for actress Monica Vitti, as well as Candice Bergen in The Hunting Party. There is a scene where Grace is treating Roy with contempt, which causes him to slap her twice, then force a kiss on her, which of course causes her to immediately fall in love with him and return it. Given the current #MeToo movement, this made me cringe a bit. As is often the case in SWs, the law is too incompetent and/or corrupt to stop the gang that runs the town. Thomas provides a few bits of lame drunk comedy relief, but luckily Baldanello has the good sense to kill him off early. One thing I wondered about was the obviously Chinese George Wang playing a bad guy named Warner. Is his character supposed to be completely white, or half-Asian? It seems hard to believe his men would follow him in those times if that were the case, if the likes of the television series Kung Fu and the SW My Name is Shanghai Joe (also featuring Wang in a small role) are any indication. Curiously, there was an earlier SW called Colt in the Hand of the Devil, directed by Sergio Bergonzelli, but apart from having a character with the surname Scott and George Wang being in the cast, Baldanello's film does not appear to be a remake. There are lots of shootings, though not much blood. Piero Piccioni's music is superb. A Colt in the Hand of the Devil may be a fairly standard story lacking in some of the more flamboyant touches SWs were known for, but it's better than the likes of such '70s genre nadirs as God's Gun and Cry Onion any day.

The film can be viewed on Amazon Prime.

Maciste in Hell (Maciste all'inferno; Guido Brignone, 1925)

The forces of Hell, led by the Lieutenant, Barbariccia (Franz Sala), come to Earth in human form to spread chaos. Barbariccia tries to tempt the superhumanly strong Maciste (Bartolomeo Pagano) with wealth and power, but the virtuous hero will have no truck with the Devil. Soon after, Maciste confronts Prince George (Domenico Serra), demanding he take responsibility for the child he has fathered by Maciste's cousin Rosabel (Polaire). Unfortunately, Barbariccia kidnaps the baby, and tells Rosabel he is dead. Cursing God, she almost falls prey to the demon, but a friendly priest intervenes. Meanwhile, Maciste finds the baby and takes it to safety, reuniting him with his mother in the process. Soon the demons return to Hell, but not before dragging Maciste along with them...

The strongman Maciste is one of the longest-running characters in Italian cinema, debuting in the 1914 film Cabiria, the first of 27 silent films. In the 1960s, with Steve Reeves' Hercules a huge success, Italian filmmakers revived Maciste for a series of "sword and sandal" flicks. Since Maciste was not a well-known character outside of Italy, the dubbed versions often changed the name "Maciste" to other heroes of myth and legend. For instance, Maciste e la regina de Samar became Hercules Against the Moon Men. One interesting aspect of both incarnations of Maciste is that he appears in many disparate locales and centuries, as shown by the title of Zorro contro Maciste, a cinematic crossover with Johnston McCulley's swashbuckling hero. This leads to the inescapable conclusion the strongman is immortal. If so, perhaps Rosabel is actually his descendant rather than his cousin. That being said, this film is somewhat confusing in chronological terms. The montage of wonders Barbariccia offers Maciste includes shots of skyscrapers, yet Prince George's retainers wear powdered wigs and ruffled shirts. Despite this, the film's atmosphere is great. Hell is eerie, and the goatlike makeup on the actors playing demons is exceptional for the era. In human form, they resemble nothing less than stereotypical silent movie villains - think Snidely Whiplash. (Fans of exploitation cinema may recognize some of the Hell footage, as it was reused in Dwain Esper's 1934 sleaze masterpiece Maniac to symbolize the protagonist's madness, as well as footage from Benjamin Christensen's Häxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages and Fritz Lang's Die Nibelungen: Siegfried). There are some cool special effects for the time: a demon's head inflates, while another places a head atop his neck. Franz Sala is more husky than muscular, but he makes a good hero. There is a slightly cringeworthy sexist line regarding the women of Hell's attempts to seduce Maciste, "Even in Hell, women are fickle!" I know this movie is pre-Gloria Steinem, but still... The script is fairly literary, including quotes from Longfellow and Dante. I've seen a couple of the 1960s Maciste films before, but this was the first of the original series I've seen, and I definitely want to check out more now.

Demons (Lamberto Bava, 1985)

A young woman named Cheryl (Natasha Hovey) is walking through a train station in Berlin where a silent man in a metal half-mask (assistant director and future director of genre fare such as The Church and Cemetery Man Michele Soavi) is handing out free tickets to a film showing at the Metropol Theater. Cheryl asks this Man in Black for an extra ticket for her friend Kathy (A Cat in the Brain's Paola Cozzo). Neither girl has heard of the Metropol, but they go to the film anyway. Other viewers include George (Urbano Barberini, Tarl Cabot in the film versions of John Norman's Gor books) and Ken (Karl Zinny of Bava's Delirium), with whom the two hit it off immediately; Tony (Flight from Paradise's Bobby Rhodes), a black pimp accompanied by his employees Rosemary (Geretta Geretta) and Carmen (Fabiola Toledo of Bava's A Blade in the Dark); Tommy (Guido Baldi) and his girlfriend Hannah (Fiore Argento, eldest daughter of co-screenwriter and producer Dario Argento); and blind man Werner (Ladyhawke's Alex Serra) and his daughter Liz (Sally Day). Rosemary tries on a mask on display in the lobby, which leaves a scratch on her cheek. The film plays: it features a group of young people discovering the tomb of Nostradamus, which contains nothing but a book in Latin and a mask. One of the characters tries on the mask, which scratches him just like Rosemary. True to the prophecy in Nostradamus' book, the mask turns the character into a demon, and mayhem ensues. In the real world, Rosemary discovers her wound is bleeding again and heads to the bathroom, but turns into a hideous, green bile-spewing demon herself. Soon, the filmgoers discover fiction has become horrifying reality.


Lamberto Bava may not have been a brilliant filmmaker on the level of his father Mario, the master of Gothic horror, but he did have genuine talent, and of the three films of his I've seen to date, this would have to be the best, and indeed it's Lamberto's favorite of his own films. The story by Bava, the legendary Dario Argento, Dardano Sacchetti (writer or co-writer of such masterpieces as the elder Bava's A Bay of Blood and Fulci's The Beyond), and Franco Ferrini (Once Upon a Time in America and Argento's Phenomena) is surprisingly meta (including fakeout end credits!), and thankfully no explanation is given for why the demons of the movie are real other than Werner's claim the theater is cursed. The gore FX by Angelo Mattei and makeup by Sergio Stivaletti are impressive indeed. The characters are not particularly well-developed, but still entertaining, especially the foul-mouthed Tony, who takes charge of the theatergoers in their escape attempts. Unfortunately, he is not as lucky (relatively speaking) as Ken Foree's Peter Washington in Dawn of the Dead. The idea of a blind man going to the movies is pretty hilarious (according to the film's trivia page on IMDB, deliberately so), but since Werner's daughter Liz is there for a romantic tryst, it makes a certain amount of sense. Sadly, Werner suffers an ironic fate. Surprisingly, redheaded usherette Ingrid (Nicoletta Elmi of Argento's Deep Red) at first seems mysterious and sinister, but ultimately turns out to be an innocent victim herself, something not acknowledged. There are some hilarious scenes with a quartet of punks who steal a Ferrari and snort coke through a straw in a can of Coke and stumble upon the theater, which contains posters for Argento's Four Flies on Grey Velvet Werner Herzog's Nosferatu the Vampyre, and Fritz Lang's Metropolis. Look out for a cameo at the end by young Giovanni Frezza, who genre fans will know best as Bob in Fulci's The House by the Cemetery. The soundtrack is utterly '80s: besides excellent work by Claudio Simonetti, it also boasts work by Rick Springfield (this would be my second favorite film with a scene where characters snort coke while listening to his music, the first being Boogie Nights), Mötley Crüe, Pretty Minds, Go West, the Adventures, Billy Idol ("White Wedding"!!!), Accept, and Saxon. A sequel by Bava followed in 1986, and as so often happens in Italian genre cinema a number of unrelated horror films were touted as sequels in other countries. Stivaletti said in 2016 he, Bava, and Argento were talking about a 3-D remake, but two years later there seems to be no forward progress. No worries; this version would be hard to top for sheer fun.

Zombie (Zombi 2; Lucio Fulci, 1979)

A seemingly empty boat appears in New York City's harbor. A patrol boat comes out to investigate, and one of the patrolmen is killed by a deformed zombie, who is killed in turn by his partner. The boat belongs to the father of Anne Bowles (Anthropophagus' Tisa Farrow, daughter of Maureen O'Sullivan and sister of Mia Farrow), whom the police question about what happened. At the morgue, the dead harbor patrolman begins to awaken. Reporter Peter West (Zombie Holocaust's Ian McCulloch) is told to cover the story by his editor. Sneaking aboard the boat to investigate, Anne runs into Peter, who did the same. After discovering a letter from Anne's father, they manage to escape from the credulous guard watching the boat by pretending they came aboard to have sex. The letter reveals that the elder Bowles was one of the victims of a plague on the Caribbean island of Matool. On the island, Dr. David Menard (Deadlier Than the Male's Richard Johnson), who is treating the zombie plague, argues with his wife (Keoma's Olga Karlatos). A native named Lucas (Ator, the Fighting Eagle's Dakar, born Alejandro Barrera) tells Menard, the other natives believe the zombies are being created by voodoo, but the doctor, a scientist and rationalist, is skeptical. Meanwhile, Mrs. Menard falls victim to the living dead. Arriving in the Caribbean, Peter and Anne hitch a ride to Matool aboard a boat owned by two vacationing fellow Americans, Brian Hull (Al Cliver) and Susan Barrett (Auretta Gay). Susan nearly falls victim to a shark while scubaing, but it instead is killed by an underwater zombie, though not before damaging the boat. Arriving on Matul and calling for help with signal flares, they are greeted by Menard, who reveals Anne's father is dead, having fallen victim to the plague. Like many others, Menard killed him once again by shooting him in the head when he started to revive. Menard asks the visitors to check on his wife. When they arrive, they find zombies in the midst of a hearty meal...

Zombie, or Zombi 2 to use its original title, was ostensibly a sequel to George Romero's masterpiece Dawn of the Dead, which was released in Italy under the title Zombi. However, as is often the case with Italian films marketed as "sequels" to existing films, Italian or American, there is no actual relationship between the two. In Dawn of the Dead, the dead returning to life is never explained. In Zombie, it's heavily implied to be as a result of a voodoo ritual. Indeed, Fulci's zombies are an interesting blend of the flesh-eating contagious variety created by Romero and imitated by countless filmmakers, authors, artists, and television writers, with the more traditional undead of voodoo lore. Even so, Fulci does manage to bring something new to the table. It's hard not to love zombies vs. sharks, and Fulci even throws a few conquistador zombies into the mix. The gore FX and makeup are topnotch, and it's easy to see why this became one of Britain's infamous "video nasties." Olga Karlatos receives a pre-death injury that will likely make viewers wince, while the zombies are even more rotted then Romero's. Karlatos does have a shower scene right before the zombie attack, and Auretta Gay wears an extremely tight thong and no top during her scuba scenes, reflecting the Italians' much-debated blending of sex and violence. Fabio Frizzi's music includes electronica and calypso-style pieces. Of all the Italian zombie films I've seen (and I've seen plenty), this may very well be the best!

Spasmo (Umberto Lenzi, 1974)

Christian Bauman (Nights and Loves of Don Juan's Robert Hoffmann), the brother of industrialist Fritz (Shock's Ivan Rassimov), and his ladyfriend Xenia (The Arena's Maria Pia Conte) find a seemingly dead woman lying on the beach. The woman, Barbara (The Bird with the Crystal Plumage's Suzy Kendall), turns out to be very much alive, but soon flees, leaving behind a thermos with the word "Tucania" on it. Christian tracks Barbara to the Tucania, a docked boat owned by Alex (Three Tough Guys' Mario Erpichini), a wealthy man who is madly in love with her. Christian and Barbara drive to a motel to have sex, but Barbara asks Christian to shave off his beard first. While Christian is in the bathroom, a gun-wielding man named Tatum (Shaft in Africa's Adolfo Lastretti) comes in through the window. A struggle ensues, and Christian shoots Tatum. Barbara takes Christian back to Alex, who offers him passage to safety in Monte Carlo, but Christian realizes he left his gold chain back at the motel, and goes back to get it. When he arrives, Tatum is gone, meaning he either survived or an accomplice removed his corpse. Christian and Barbara hide out at the home of a friend of the latter's who collects birds of prey, both living and dead and stuffed and mounted. Someone cuts the power. The couple meet Malcolm (8 1/2's Guido Alberti) and his daughter Clorinda (Shoot First, Die Later's Monica Monet), who claim to be renting the house from Barbara's friend. Christian recognizes Clorinda from some past incident. Why does Christian find himself in this situation, and what is the significance of the scantily-clad female mannequins that keep appearing hanging from trees?

Spasmo is the sixth film I've seen by legendary Italian filmmaker Umberto Lenzi, most infamous for Cannibal Ferox. I can say without a doubt this is my favorite Lenzi film so far, and a topnotch giallo. The performances are all excellent, particularly that of the lovely Kendall, whom mainstream audiences will probably know best as Sidney Poitier's fellow teacher and potential love interest in To Sir, with Love. Virtually everyone has a secret they're hiding from everyone else, and the plot, as so often is the case in the genre, is pretty complicated. The zoom shots so beloved in Italian genre cinema are on full display, and there are some cool POV tracking shots. The birds and the mannequins add a touch of eerieness to the film, though I was surprised and a little disappointed there were no "death by bird" scenes. Soundtrack god Ennio Morricone's work is magnificent as always. The ending is nicely creepy, with Rassimov conveying plenty while saying nothing. Lenzi and gialli fans won't want to miss this one!

Kiss Kiss, Kill Kill (Kommissar X - Jagd auf Unbekannt; "Frank Kramer" [Gianfranco Parolini], 1966)

Suave, charming private eye Jo Louis Walker (Django Against Sartana's Tony Kendall) and Police Captain Tom Rowland (The Mutations' Brad Harris) battle Oberon (Nikola Popovic), a high-tech-wielding arms dealer who is killing off his former partners and has a plan involving uranium and gold.

This film was the first in a series based on "Bert F. Island's" (Paul Alfred Mueller) Kommissar X novel series, of which there were 620(!) books, though Jo Walker is never called by his nom de guerre in the dubbed print I watch. The film is a German-Italian-Yugoslavian co-production, and was directed by Gianfranco Parolini under his frequent pseudonym of "Frank Kramer." You may recognize Parolini's name as the director of the three Spaghetti Westerns featuring the character Sabata, as well as If You Meet Sartana, Pray for your Death, the debut of another iconic gunslinger. Parolini brings the same flamboyancy and flair for spectacle to this film as he does to his Westerns. Kendall is a handsome and likable leading man who the ladies can't get enough of. According to his theme song, "I love you, Jo Walker, just as all the women love you," and indeed, they certainly seem to. The film has more than its share of lovely ladies, including Oberon's purple-wigged henchgirl Joan (The Castle of Fu Manchu's Maria Perschy) and admiral's daughter Pamela Hudson (Day of Anger's Christa Linder), not to mention Oberon's army of robotlike minions clad in black and sporting blonde bouffants. Brawny Brad Harris provides admirable support as Captain Rowland, though he seems to be considerably more competent than the officers under him, who twice fall for Jo's ruses. Serbian Nikola Popovic is entertaining as the awesomely-named Oberon, even though his scheme is clearly influenced by Goldfinger. Those who've seen the Sabata films will not be surprised that Parolini has lots of cool gadgets in the film. Jo has a transmitter hidden in a ring that allegedly was his mother's, as well as a radar detector screen in his car, while Oberon's gear includes a tape player that can be turned into a gun and a groovy island headquarters, complete with henchmen wearing radiation suits that look like someone dipped the A.I.M. agents' uniforms in bleach. I got a real kick out of this film, and will be searching for the rest of the series.

Shock (Schock; Mario Bava, 1977)

Dora Baldini (Daria Nicolodi, best known for her appearances in the films of Dario Argento, which led to an 11-year relationship that resulted in their daughter, actress and filmmaker Asia Argento, who recently has been in the news as one of the women who have accused Harvey Weinstein of sexual assault), her second husband Bruno (John Steiner, who appeared with Nicolodi in Argento's Tenebre), and her young son Marco (David Colin Jr.) move into the house where Dora used to live with her first husband Carlo, a drug addict who committed suicide and Marco's father. Marco begins acting out, frequently going down into the cobwebbed cellar, tearing up a pair of his mother's underwear, and cutting his stepfather's image out of a picture of Bruno and Dora. To make matters worse, Dora, who was treated by Dr. Aldo Spidini (Man from Deep River's Ivan Rassimov) for a nervous breakdown after Carlo's death, begins noticing strange things happening in the house. Some appear to be hallucinations, while others are harder to write off. Bruno, frequently away from home in his capacity as an airline pilot, is not much help. Finally,  Dora becomes convinced Marco is under the influence of Carlo's spirit.

It's hard to think of an Italian filmmaker who made a wider range of great films than Mario Bava. From gialli (Blood and Black Lace) to Gothic horror (Black Sunday) to anthologies (Black Sabbath, from which the iconic metal band took its name) to crime thrillers (Rabid Dogs) to comic book adaptations (Danger: Diabolik, which this Mystery Science Theater 3000 fan considers the best movie they ever riffed, and therefore a poor choice for the otherwise-entertaining last episode of the show's original run). Shock was Bava's last film, three years before his death, and he was reportedly not happy with it. It probably didn't help that the American distributors changed the title to Beyond the Door II, despite being unrelated to Ovidio G. Assonitis' and Robert Barrett's 1974 tale of demonic possession apart from David Colin Jr.'s presence in both films. Such a practice was not uncommon in overseas releases of Italian cinema, as shown by the number of Spaghetti Westerns that were retitled and marketed as Django or Sartana or Trinity pictures in order to cash in on the prestige of the more successful examples of the genre. While it is true that this film is not up to the level of the ones listed above, it's still quite enjoyable. Nicolodi turns in a typically excellent performance, chewing the scenery with aplomb in the latter half of the film as she begins to unravel. Steiner plays the concerned but skeptical husband well. Colin may, like many child actors in horror films (see Bob in Lucio Fulci's The House by the Cemetery, which like this film was co-written by Dardano Sacchetti) be the victim of bad dubbing. The cinematography by Alberto Spagnoli and an uncredited Bava is very effective, managing to somehow make a Slinky going down a flight of stairs genuinely creepy. Walter Rizzati's score includes playful childlike tunes and piano and electronic bits. The cellar contains a secret that was likely inspired by Poe's "The Black Cat." Bava had no reason to be ashamed of this more than respectable capper to a brilliant career.

Yankee (Tinto Brass, 1966)

A bounty hunter identified only as "Yankee" (Philippe Leroy from Jean-Luc Godard's A Married Woman) rides into a New Mexico town ruled by a bandit called Grand Cougar (Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man's Adolfo Celi, sporting dyed black hair and a mustache, as well as a whip). He decides to collect the bounties for the Cougar's gang, which has members with names like Gold Teeth, Tattoo, Painter (who wears a paint-stained smock), Philosopher, and Portuguese. Yankee kidnaps the Cougar's fortune-telling girlfriend Rosita (Mirella Martin in her only film role) in order to lure him into a trap.

Holy shit, has it really taken me this long to review a Spaghetti Western here? You can probably tell I'm a fan from the fact that I've seen a whopping 129 of them, counting this one. That's more than double the amount of American ones I've seen. The Spaghettis have a unique style all their own that make them entertaining to me. This one is not great, but very interesting for a number of reasons. It was directed by Tinto Brass, who later directed a number of erotic films, including the prostitution-in-Nazi Germany tale Salon Kitty and the Penthouse-produced Caligula (before he got fired). Not a director I would've thought of doing a Western, and perhaps as a result of being out of his element there are several peculiar elements of the movie. It begins with an outlaw, who we later learn is a member of Grand Cougar's gang, riding into a saloon on his horse to rob it, where our hero, who is getting a shave right there, shoots him and collects his stolen gold. Yankee is the only Spaghetti Western hero I've ever seen clad in pinstripes. The town's barber is also its undertaker, and he has a coffin in the barbershop. For no apparent reason, Grand Cougar's lair has a rooster in it. During a scene where Yankee is being held prisoner by Cougar and his men, the film is tinted red in a couple different frames. Tattoo, who has a face drawn on his stomach, puts a cigarette in his navel, and smoke comes out of his mouth. It's not as weird as Giulio Questi's Django, Kill...If You Live, Shoot! or Cesare Canevari's Matalo!, but definitely one of the odder films I've seen in the genre. Leroy isn't particularly intense, nor does he look the part, but nevertheless he does well with the material. He did go on to do two more Spaghettis, Panhandle 38 (which I have not seen) and A Man Called Blade (which I have). Celi clearly had fun with the role, chewing lots of scenery. It's also interesting to note that two scenes in this film may have influenced later, superior westerns. Grand Cougar's men burning a scorpion in a ring of fire anticipates Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch. Another scene where the bad guys try to obtain Yankee's whereabouts from one of the townsfolk, who has his wife standing on his shoulders with a noose around her neck, calls to mind Once Upon a Time in the West, in this reviewer's opinion Leone's finest hour. This will never be one of my favorites of the genre, but it has a lot of noteworthy elements that make it well worth your time. The music by Nino Rossi is nicely understated, including a cool whistling theme that Leroy himself takes up at a few points. So do what I did and head to Amazon Prime (they have a ton of great movies for Streaming, including tons of Spaghettis) and check it out.

Eaten Alive! The Rise and Fall of the Italian Cannibal Film (Calum Waddell, 2015)

An in-depth documentary on the Italian cannibal films of the '70s and '80s, covering such films as The Man from Deep River, Cannibal Holocaust, Cannibal Apocalypse, Cannibal Ferox, Mountain of the Cannibal God, and Eaten Alive, with input from several directors (Sergio Martino, Umberto Lenzi, Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man's Ruggero Deodato), stars (Me Me Lai, Robert Kerman, Giovanni Lombardo Radice) and film scholars (including Kim Newman, who incidentally is also one of my favorite fiction authors).

As stated in my review of Live Like a Cop..., I love Italian cinema. Next to Spaghetti Westerns (one of which will be the subject of my next review), I love their horror films most. From the Gothic supernatural tales like Mario Bava's Black Sunday to gialli such as Dario Argento's Deep Red, no country does horror like Italy. Some of their films have brutality and gore that put American films of the same era to shame. This is especially true of the cannibal films, most though not all of which featured white Americans and/or Europeans traveling to a foreign country (South American locales, the Philippines, etc.) for reasons of their own, and falling prey to savage cannibal tribes. Often, the "civilized" whites were shown to be just as sadistic and bloodthirsty, if not moreso, then the "savages" they encountered. This is especially true of Deodato's Cannibal Holocaust, one of the first "found footage" movies (the documentary mentions its influence on later films of that type, such as The Blair Witch Project and REC). Thus, there was a little more, in terms of social commentary, to some of these films besides blood, guts, and nudity. Of course, that was always the main focus. This documentary thoroughly covers the history of these films, and does it with stupendous passion. Director Calum Waddell (who also co-wrote and -produced the equally excellent documentary American Grindhouse) brings together many of the subgenre's leading filmmakers and actors to talk about their experiences. From Lenzi and Deodato each claiming to have invented Italian cannibal cinema, to the Jewish Kerman's having to find a solution when the script for Cannibal Holocaust had him eating a pig's liver, to Radice's not-always-positive feelings about Cannibal Apocalypse and Cannibal Ferox, there is a lot of fascinating material here. And of course, there is discussion of the music, as well as the (usually non-simulated) animal slaughter seen in many of the films. As previously stated, the influence of the films on latter-day cinema is covered, also including Eli Roth's own cannibal film, The Green Inferno, which he dedicated to Deodato. If I feel anything should've been mentioned that wasn't, it would be two things: 1) Mountain of the Cannibal God has a scene with a native doing something rather nasty to a pig, which thankfully was simulated, in this case. 2) The name of Radice's character in Cannibal Apocalypse? Charlie Bukowski!!! Other than these two minor omissions, this is another of many great exploitation cinema documentaries seen in recent years, and absolutely a must-see for fans.

Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man (Ruggero Deodato, 1976)

Dark-haired Alfredo (Don't Torture a Duckling's Marc Porel) and blond Antonio (Django Kill...If You Live, Shoot!'s Ray Lovelock, who sadly passed away on Friday) are mellow Special Force cops who manage to get results despite their incredibly reckless methods of bringing down crooks, to the chagrin of their captain (Danger: Diabolik's Adolfo Celi). Besides muggers and hostage takers, they attempt to bring down ruthless gambling club owner Roberto "Bibi" Pasquini (Rocco and His Brothers' Renato Salvatori), who has the Superintendent of police in his pocket.

Italy is one of my favorite countries in term of cinema, and they are just as adept at the crime genre as horror and Westerns. This is a film that could only have been made by Ruggero Deodato, the man behind the unbelievably brutal but thought-provoking Cannibal Holocaust. Just as Robert Kerman's character in that film wondered who the real cannibals were, Live Like a Cop... will leave you wondering who the real psycho criminals are. Alfredo and Antonio get into a high-speed bike chase through the streets of Rome (something Deodato did not get a permit for, which was more common than you might think for exploitation films of that era), talk dirty to the Captain's secretary (who reciprocates, calling men "phallocrats"), set a bunch of cars and two tied-up thugs on fire, apparently have sex with their cleaning woman's niece (did I mention they share an apartment?), and torture two of Pasquini's men by giving their genitals a good hard squeeze. Alfredo also shoots one of Pasquini's men in the mouth, and before that he slaps the gangster's sexy sister Lina (Flavia Fabiani), after which he and then Antonio have (consensual) sex with her. I have often thought that television cops get away with shit real cops would be at least suspended for, but our two heroes-by-default take the cake. Luckily, Porel and Lovelock are good enough actors that they manage to make their characters somehow likable despite making Dirty Harry look like Joe Friday. Of course, as with Cannibal Holocaust, Deodato manages to get in a lot of gore. Besides our leads' methods, the chopper-riding muggers' victim gets her head bashed against a lamppost, a blind man's seeing-eye dog gets run over in the subsequent chase (not sure if they really killed the dog, like the genuine animal slaughter in Holocaust), and Pasquini puts out the eye of a gambler who owes him a substantial debt, though surprisingly the latter is not shown in much detail. And of course lots of people get shot. Plus, the ending is literally explosive, if somewhat out of left field. The screenplay by Fernando di Leo (himself an adept writer of Italian crime films) is entertaining, and the music by Ubaldo Continiello (Deodato's Last Cannibal World) is quite competent, even if he's not on the level of the great Riz Ortolani of Cannibal Holocaust fame, and Lovelock himself delivers two cool folk songs. Lovers of trash cinema all'Italiana cannot miss this one!