Django, Prepare a Coffin (1968)

Hard to believe I’ve been writing reviews for this long and have never tackled a Western (Spaghetti or otherwise).  Why, you ask?  Well, several reasons.  The Western is a very special genre to me (Once Upon a Time in the West is in my top five of all time), and I was reticent to dive in on one because I wanted to do whatever the selection would be justice (time and about another nine hundred words will tell the tale on that one).  Second, and more important, I wanted the film I wrote about to be worth the time.  I had been hovering around reviewing Little Rita of the West (coincidentally, also a Ferdinando Baldi film), but that film’s run time made it a bit more difficult to squeeze into my schedule (you’d think a guy so devoted to film would make the time, but there you have it).  Thankfully, Arrow Films have come through again with Django, Prepare a Coffin (aka Preparati la Bara! aka Viva Django aka Get the Coffin Ready aka Django Sees Red), so the choice was taken away from me.  Their transfer is gorgeous, as always, though the special features are thin (yet filling), including a trailer and an overview of the Django films by Kevin Grant (author of Any Gun Can Play).  Still, if you’re a fan of the genre, this film is good (notice I didn’t say great) but worth owning simply by virtue of the fact that it exists in such nice shape.

Django (Terence Hill) and his crew are ambushed while transporting a gold shipment.  Django is shot, and his wife is brutally killed.  Years later, Django is employed as a hangman, but secretly he is gathering the falsely accused people he actually doesn’t hang to help him get payback on Lucas (George Eastman) and his henchmen.  And what has Django’s old buddy Dave Barry (Note: not the writer, but still played by Horst Frank) have to do with this (I’ll bet you can’t guess)?

I am a huge fan of Sergio Corbucci’s Django, and I realize that a cottage industry of films named for (but rarely having anything to do with) it enjoyed much success in Italy and abroad.  Django, Prepare a Coffin is one of the handful of films that does actually relate to its progenitor, though it hews far enough away to be its own film.  Mainly, this is a tonal difference, specifically, the difference between Hill and the earlier movie’s Franco Nero.  Nero’s Django was a somber, haunted man.  He dragged his own coffin around with him, and inside it was death (both his and other’s).  He was as much the grim reaper as he was a man starving for (perhaps denying himself) peace.  Hill’s Django is more amiable.  He has a pal in Barry, and his big dream is to settle down and “wait for the last judgment.”  More notably, this Django is happily married, a state which seems foreign to the character as depicted by Corbucci and company.  Even after he sets himself on his path of vengeance, Hill gives the character a certain goofball charm, which, let’s face it, is Hill’s stock in trade.  He plays with the local telegraph operator’s (his other friend) pet bird, offering it booze and conversing with it.  He also has an openly virtuous spirit.  While he is using his “deadman” gang to take revenge for himself, it feels as though he would have helped these people avoid the hangman’s noose, regardless.  He’ll gun a man down, but he’s so not stoic it feels slightly out of character.  It left me thinking that this was actually a prequel or origin story for the man from the 1966 film.

Prepare a Coffin likewise shares its screenwriter (Franco Rossetti), director of photography (Enzo Barboni), and producer (Manolo Bolognini) with Corbucci’s movie.  This provides another throughline between the two films, but the character is clearly the same, just different.  He still wears his heavy, dark Inverness coat (but significantly, he doesn’t don it until after his wife is gone).  He still has his huge, belt-fed machine gun.  He still suffers some hand injuries (though not nearly as mutilated as before) prior to turning the tables on his enemies.  Mostly, he is still heavily associated with death.  He figuratively buries himself next to his wife.  He’s a hangman, a legal dealer of death.  He is shown often digging graves.  The finale of the film takes place in a cemetery (again).  He’s as ghoulish as a man as can be, but Hill makes him goshdarned likeable.  Unfortunately, the two tastes don’t quite taste great together.  It’s tough to pull off being death incarnate and a swell guy at the same time, and this movie proves it.  This Django rebels against his loner stereotype.  He wants a family, he wants a community, he strives too stridently to not be alone in the world.  He’s Django Lite.

The film still deals with Western genre themes.  It primarily concerns itself with the struggle to civilize the frontier.  What’s interesting here is its attitude regarding it.  Dave Barry and men like him have an air of respectability to them (he is an elected representative at the film’s opening).  He has money, he has status, and these give him power.  He is civilizing the West and killing it.  These aren’t cross purposes, they are the same purpose.  The socioeconomic status of men like Barry and Lucas is directly proportional to the level of their turpitude.  Moreover, it’s the greedy like Barry and Lucas who carelessly destroy the lives of the working men and women who actually endeavor to civilize the frontier in less exploitive fashion (of course, we can argue that such a feat is impossible), to live their simple lives.  Moneyed land barons and the like are nothing new in Westerns, but Barry’s political background gives his villainy a more far-reaching touch.  Guys like Garcia (Jose Torres) just want to be with their families.  Nevertheless, once gold enters the picture it’s a short trip to becoming exactly like the opposition and rationalizing it.  Naturally, only Django is incorruptible, giving his hanging fees to the men he emancipates.  He, then, is the true civilizing agent, selfless and self-determined.  He wants to give what was taken from him to others.  The problem is, most other people haven’t (or won’t) come around to his way of thinking.  And that’s life.

MVT:  Baldi is a solid director.  Though much of the film has a certain flat, stagy look (which harkens back to more traditional, classic American Westerns), it moves along nicely and has enough interesting turns to be worthy of its genre.

Make or Break:  Django trying to get a bird to drink.  It just doesn’t feel right.

Score:  6.25/10

The Mercenary (1968)

Directed by: Sergio Corbucci

Starring: Franco Nero, Tony Musante, Jack Palance

What spaghetti western lover wouldn't want to have Sergio Corbucci's directorial career? Well, except for Sergio Leone perhaps. It's too bad that Corbucci is often so heavily overshadowed by Leone's work. Although, with the advent of DVD, Netflix, streaming, etc., Corbucci has closed the gap in the "There's Leone and then everyone else" sentiment. Corbucci has definitely carved out his own slice of spaghetti western real estate, making some of the most diverse entries in the genre with standouts such as The Great Silence, Django, Navajo Joe and Companeros. After watching The Mercenary, I can safely add yet another signature film to this list and further say with confidence that "There's Leone and Corbucci and then everyone else."

The Mercenary follows a peasant field worker turned Mexican revolutionist named Paco Roman (Tony Musante) on his rise to power and high stature. While Paco has the spirited vitriol to lead his rebellion, he doesn't have the tactical knowledge to strategically succeed against Mexican military forces overseen by General Garcia. Paco hires polish mercenary Sergei Kowalski (Franco Nero) to advise him and his band of rebels in battle against the threatening armed forces. Under Sergei's tutelage, Paco easily overcomes all their adversaries, military and nefarious filthy rich bastards included.

Their successful arrangement sputters as the pair draw attention and the ire of ruthless and conniving tycoon Curly (Jack Palance). Initially, Curl has his sights set on Sergie's knowledge of a very valuable, hidden silver reserve. But when Paco kills Curly's henchmen, Curly craves bloody revenge on both men and aligns himself with General Garcia to ensure he has an opportunity to dole out the comeuppance. Further, a female member welcomed into Paco's rebellion, Columba, drives a wedge between the men by introducing romantic jealousies and denigrating their profiteering under the guise of freedom fighting.

Sergio Corbucci delivers another fantastic western with The Mercenary. This time proving that he can master the political spaghetti sub genre. One of Corbucci's strengths is that he continually subverts the standards of the genre, and he has arguably introduced more inventive traits to spaghettis than any other Italian helmer. For one, he resist utilizing an American protagonist, and there's certainly not even an redeeming American to be found anywhere in the cast. The lone American, Curly, is the primary antagonist and carries no real admirable traits or features that command respect. Curly isn't rugged or tough like so many others baddies typifying American traits in these films. This character is the opposite, seemingly weak, exuding a certain femininitiy and homosexual undertones. Instead, Corbucci's hero is literally very un-American. He chooses to anchor his narrative to a character with a Polish heritage, which is an especially peculiar choice given that the majority of spaghetti westerns opt for characters of Mexican or Indian descent to fulfill the main protagonist role in the absence of an American lead. The Mercenary also commendably elevates its female presence with Columba inspiring the film's gestating coda and instigating the eventual showdown. This is in direct contrast to the genre trappings that normally relegate women to bit parts, inconsequential supporting roles or non-existence.

That's not to say The Mercenary is a think tank or artistic snoozefest. This is a film packed with action from start to finish. If you're familiar with Corbucci then you know that the man loves his automatic weapons and he serves up another classic here. Sergei gleefully mows down droves of Garcia's troops with his recently purchased machine gun in a glorious gunfire barrage. The fun of this scene is maximized as Sergei overcharges Paco for every step he takes in dispatching their foes with this weapon, ringing up $200 to use the machine gun, $200 to load the machine gun and finally $200 to fire it.

The casting is clearly superb. It is headlined by spaghetti legend Franco Nero as the polish merc. Like Corbucci, Nero has stretched the genre more than any other actor, always successfully displaying versatility in films known for their archetypes. Nero is barely recognizable, though his steely eyes give him away, disappearing into this role and completely immersing his accent without missing a beat. Jack Palance as Curly is a stroke genius, completely cast against type, eschewing his usual glass-chewing roughneck attitude for the soften-spoken effeminate villain.

The score is composed by none other than the iconic Ennio Morricone. Outside of Leone, this may be Morricone's best spaghetti score or at the very least his most integral to the overall picture. Of course, you'll immediately notice some of it from Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill, but you'll see here the same thread of nobility that ties the two films together despite their differences. Morricone pours the glue that fills in the cracks, selling the inner struggle and burgeoning valor within Paco that isn't routinely well-drawn through the story.

Make or Break scene - I could rather easily select Sergei machine gunning charging army droves, but I think the scene that makes The Mercenary for me involves when Paco rescues Sergei from Curly and his thugs. This scene does so much for the film by establishing an identity for our main villain. To this point in the film, our heroes' adversaries are vague definitions of greedy land owners or cutthroat militants. Curly is cut from a different cloth from not only in this film, but also amongst other western villains of this era. After being apprehend, Paco's men ransack Curly for all his valuables and go so far as to start stripping off his clothes. Before Curly's left with nothing at all, Paco halts his looters and instructs them to leave him with his pants. In a really great moment of defiance, Curly refuses Paco's leniency and sheds the rest of his clothes and walks off into the desert stark naked. Further to this, Palance expertly sells Curly's emotion after Paco kills his main henchman, clearly displaying how much he cared for his men (and maybe even for this one a little too much).

MVT - Sergio Corbucci, big surprise. Actually, it's of little surprise to watch a Corbucci spaghetti western and discover another great entry in the genre. His name promotes an expectation of excellence. And as aforementioned in this review, Corbucci delivers these films in varying ways and not settling for straightforward simplicity and The Mercenary is no exception.

Score - 7.75

Day of Anger (1967)

Directed by: Tonino Valerii

Starring: Lee Van Cleef, Giuliano Gemma

This spaghetti western centers on Clifton City's young and feeble push-around outcast known only as Scott (Giuliano Gemma). The self-proclaimed good people of Clifton City treat Scott like a slave, smacking him around, ridiculing him and forcing him to do all the dirty work such as dispensing with buckets of poop juice from the outhouse. Apparently, the townsfolk abuse Scott because he's the bastard son of a town whore, who died when Scott was so young that he never even learned his real last name. This explains those rare Region 7 video import releases with the alternate title The Man With No Surname.

Scott can do little more than take the abuse. He has few friends, and those friends -- a brothel madame, local drunk, his shabby donkey Sartana and elderly father figure and former sheriff Murph -- are not in any position to help him out of this situation. That is, until, ruthless gunfighter Frank Talby (Lee Van Cleef) arrives in Clifton City and takes Scott under his wing. He teaches Scott to stand up for himself, buys him his first gun and even gives Scott a last name; Mary, the name of his passed away mother. It takes a genuine badass to pull off a name like Scott Mary. From here, their relationship delves into master and apprentice as Talby teaches Scott the 9 Rules of a Gunfighter:

1. Never beg another man.

2. Never trust anyone.

3. Never get between a gun and its target.

4. Punches are like bullets. Make the first ones count or you're finished.

5. If you wound a man, you better kill him or he'll kill you.

6. Use the right bullet at the right time.

7. Before you untie a man, take his gun first.

8. Don't give a man any more bullets than he has use for.

9. Sometimes you have to accept a challenge or you'll lose everything in the end, anyway.

While these sentiments may sound hatched from Old West fortune cookies, they're an accurate checklist for gunfighter survival. Talby adds a 10th rule in the final showdown ("Once you start killing, you can't stop").

Talby's true motive is to collect a $50,000 debt owed to him by his former partner, Wild Jack, for a robbery they pulled prior to his ten year prison stint. As it turns out, some of the so-called honest citizens of Clifton City swindled Wild Jack out of this haul. We discover these are the most powerful men in town -- the judge, the banker and the saloon owner. With Scott's help (and fueled by vengeance), Talby rapidly takes over Clifton City by deadly force and blackmailing these men with the secret of their thievery.

Scott happily serves as Talby's gun-toting lapdog until old Murph voices concerns, claiming Talby's corrupting Clifton City and making a good town go bad. Evidently, Clifton City somehow defines "good" as harassing an orphan, stealing large sums of money and blasting rock salt into the local drunk's ass for pitching stones into empty glass bottles. Seems the town's better off with Talby to me, but who am I to question Murph? Murph eventually stands against Talby alone, leaving Scott to choose between his old life and his new one.

The real strength of the film lies in Van Cleef and Gemma's casting and performances. They perfectly compliment one another in the master-protege template. Van Cleef looks haggard, surely and savvy whereas Gemma is fresh-faced, good-natured and naive. Their careers nicely contrast as well; at this stage, Gemma is a new star to spaghetti westerns coming off the highly successful Ringo films compared to Van Cleef as a well-established veteran star of the genre thanks to his legendary work on Sergio Leone's Dollars films. Van Cleef brings instant credibility and a likable villainy that few, if any, others could as believably deliver and impress upon Gemma's naturalistic innocence and eagerness.

Day of Anger was directed by another spaghetti western staple, Tonino Valerii, who previously directed A Taste For Killing and thereafter helmed the more well known comedy western My Name s Nobody. As a former Leone assistant, Valerii displays numerous Leoneseque qualities, so much so that you could envision Day of Anger as a pre-Dollars trilogy Leone picture. Immediately, you'll notice Leone signatures in the set design that primarily re-purpose Dollars trilogy locations. The stone circle from the final showdown in For A Few Dollars More makes a cameo. In addition to Van Cleef, Valerii utilizes Leone regulars, Al Murdock (The Good, The Bad & The Ugly, Once Upon a Time in the West), in the role of Talby's former partner, Wild Jack and Benito Stefanelli (Dollars trilogy) in the role of Owen, the killer hired to oust Talby.

What sets Day of Anger apart is the progression of the characters, a rarity for the Spaghetti Western. Here, we witness Scott Mary evolve from a picked-on garbage boy simpleton to a feared gunslinger on confidence overload. Talby's stature grows immensely, transforming from a snarling gunman into a calculative political overlord. The film is also crafted with subtle character beats that are more informative than the surface level may indicate. For instance, when Talby purchases Scott's first gun, he deliberately steers him away from shorter barrels better suited for fast draws toward a much larger long barrel firearm that's less efficient. The implication set is that Talby has slyly built an advantage for himself against Scott if a showdown occurred.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that spaghetti westerns were a discussion topic on a recent GGTMC episode, specifically as to which actor symbolizes the genre. If I recall correctly, the vote favored Clint Eastwood. I agree with this, but I must say that Lee Van Cleef nearly steals the crown for me. When I think of spaghetti westerns, the Man With No Name pops to mind, but when I think Eastwood? I don't always think of the Dollars films, sometimes it's Dirty Harry or maybe Clint the Director, etc. When I think about Lee Van Cleef? I always think of a spaghetti western. It's kind of similar to a sports franchise where maybe Eastwood is immortalized as the MVP for a championship reign then moved on to other teams, but Van Cleef is the beloved fan favorite by playing his entire career for the same team.

Despite Lee Van Cleef's presence, Day of Anger has remained a hidden gem amongst spaghetti westerns. It has risen in notoriety in recent years due to Quentin Tarantino (who else?) playing the film at one of his QT film fests in Austin and listing it as his 7th favorite Spaghetti Western of all time. If you're a fan of the genre, Day of Anger won't measure up to the big four Leone films, but I think you'll find Valerii's picture deservedly ranks with the best non-Leone spaghettis ever made.

Make or Break scene - In an early scene, Talby invites Scott to have a drink at the saloon, but Scott's soon threatened by a rowdy bar patron who Talby guns down in Scott's defense. This scene makes the film as it gives you a reason to like Talby and understand why Scott would follow him. It builds goodwill for Talby that allows one to dismiss his misdeeds and really feel Scott's struggle in choosing a side between Talby and Murph at the film's climax. Plus, by this point, you despise the citizens of Clifton City and you're ready for a little vengeance to be dealt.

MVT - Giuliano Gemma. The entire film hinges on Gemma's performance and the man comes through. If you don't believe his character's change then the film just does not work. Further to this, Gemma does not simply flip the switch from weak to strong, good to bad, but rather he manages to somehow retain this unique boyish wholesomeness after becoming a vengeful killer, always reminding you where this darker persona grew from originally, something like a blood thirsty kid in a candy store. The performance makes one re-consider an earlier scene where Scott childishly practices his quick draw with a wooden gun held by a rope holster as not a goofball example of his poverty, but rather a darkly insight into a young man's mind hellbent on the day when he'll have his revenge.

Score: 8.25/10