Westerns Archive

This is an overtly political spaghetti western from Damiano Damiani and, with its anti-American intervention message, it’s still very relevant today. The story deals with an American who falls in with a group of Mexican bandits in order to get close to a revolutionary General, and forms a mutual friendship with their leader, El Chucho.

The film is a feast for the eyes as well as the brain, with Antonio Secchi’s cinematography making the most of the Spanish locations, but it’s the script by Salvatore Laurani and Franco Solinas that puts this among the best of the Italian westerns. The characters are well rounded and develop over the course of the film, there’s plenty of humour to balance the action, and it builds to an impressively restrained yet emotionally powerful climax.

Gian Maria Volontè, a familiar face to anyone who’s seen A Fistful of Dollars or For a Few Dollars More, plays El Chucho. The character develops from a loud, greedy and somewhat obnoxious killer into a fledgling revolutionary, a true man of the people and Volontè brilliantly portrays that transformation, turning in a performance that is far more complex than your standard western, be it Italian or American.

By contrast, Lou Castel, as the American Tate, is restrained and emotionless. It’s a performace that may not be to everyone’s taste but for me it served as a nice counterpoint to Volontè, American reserve paired with Latin fire. Tate isn’t explored anywhere near as much as Chucho, his motivation is money, but his chalk-and-cheese friendship with the bandit adds some colour to the character.

Before he became famous as a director of erotica, Tinto Brass made this early spaghetti western that’s very much in the Fistful of Dollars mould. A stranger known only as “Yankee” (Philippe Leroy) rides into a Mexican town that’s under the despotic rule of El Grande Concho. After seeing the wanted posters of Concho’s men in the sheriff’s office he suggests to Concho that they split the reward money. Strangely the bandit isn’t too keen on the idea of turning all his men in to the law, deciding he’ll make more money with them than without, particularly as he has designs on a shipment of gold being transported along the Rio Grandee by the US Cavalry. This leaves Yankee to collect the money for himself, provided he can kill them.

As you might have gathered, the plot is rather silly but Brass keeps the viewers attention with visual flourishes, always looking for odd angels to shoot from. Unsurprisingly the camera lingers over Mirella Martin as Concho’s woman, particularly when Yankee kidnaps her out of her bathtub and rides away with her across the desert with her modesty barely covered.

Adolfo Celi, the villain in the James Bond film Thunderball, is a suitably loud and intimidating El Grande Concho, but Philippe Leroy is sadly no Clint Eastwood, looking uncomfortable in western garb. The Frenchman lacks the sort of screen presence needed for the part and seems an odd choice. That he wears a rather silly looking hat doesn’t help either.

When Ulzana leads a band of renegade Apaches off the reservation, Lieutenant DeBuin is assigned to capture or kill him. Along with his cavalry detachment DeBuin is assigned two scouts, McIntosh and Ke-Ni-Tay. McIntosh is a veteran who respects the Apache while Ke-Ni-Tay is an Apache who is bound by his word to serve or as he puts it “Ke-Ni-Tay sign paper. Ke-Ni-Tay soldier.” The film deals with DeBuin’s hunt for Ulzana and the atrocities they find in the Apache’s wake.

Robert Aldrich’s film doesn’t go in for the panoramic vistas of John Ford, he’s not interested in showing us the beauty of the west, focusing instead on the brutality of the people who inhabit it. Made at a time when the trend was to show Native Americans in a sympathetic light, with films like Little Big Man and Soldier Blue, Ulzana’s Raid instead shows them as savage killers. It’s not that Aldrich paints them as the villain, more that their idea of morality is so alien to men like DeBuin that they may as well be form another planet. Even McIntosh, who appreciates their single-minded simplicity doesn’t understand them, seeing them as almost a force of nature – a hard people for a hard land.

This is a decent little spaghetti western from Eugenio Martín, who went on to make the Peter Cushing/Christopher Lee monster-on-a-train flick, Horror Express. Rather than the usual wide open vistas the film concentrates on one settlement, too small to really be called a town. Luke Chilson, a bounty hunter is looking for an escaped bandit, José Gómez, and figures he’ll come calling on his sweetheart, Eden, who he believes helped him escape in the first place.

The townsfolk are less than happy to see Chilson, not only don’t they like the way he makes a living but they also see Gómez as something of a local hero, who’s been unfairly treated by the law. When Gómez shows up the locals help him get the upper hand, only to find he really is as evil as they’d been told. He brutally beats Chilson and ransacks the town and when he’s joined by his gang the people realise their only hope is to free the captive bounty hunter.

Martin’s film is high on atmosphere and short on action, but the build up is well handled, with the tension rising to the bullet filled dénouement. Richard Wyler isn’t a very charismatic lead but his performance is solid enough, and Chilson is a man of few words.

It’s in Gómez that the film has a genuine star turn, Tomas Milian once again showing what an entertaining villain he can be. Gómez is a much darker character than Cuchillo in The Big Gundown and Run, Man, Run but he’s far from a standard villain, there’s an element of self loathing about him, as he deliberately turns his friends in the town against him.

1966 was a busy year for Franco Nero, along with a thriller or two, a comedy, some schlocky sci fi and a biblical epic, he found time to star in three spaghetti westerns – the seminal Django, Lucio Fulci’s Massacre Time and Texas Adios. Of the three Texas Adios is, by a long way, the least interesting.

Nero is Burt Sullivan, a small town sheriff, who at the start of the film decides it’s time to head for Mexico to avenge his father’s murder. Considering his pappy died when he was seven it’s strange that Burt’s waited so long before hitting the vengeance trail, maybe he was waiting for his little brother Jim to grow up. Jim decides he’s going to tag along to see justice done for the dad he never knew.

I won’t spoil the film’s twist, but it has much in common with similar familial confusion in Massacre Time. Unlike that film though there’s too little going on to keep the viewers attention, apart from a violent barroom brawl none of the action scenes stand out. Ferdinando Baldi lacks the style of Fulci or Corbucci and the film’s plodding pace doesn’t help matters.

Nero looks and acts cool but Alberto Dell’Acqua as his brother hams it up big time and is a constant source of irritation. Even the music is below par, and that’s usually something you can rely on in an Italian western.

This is one for Franco Nero or spaghetti western completists only.

Burt Lancaster as a Mexican! The idea probably sounds ridiculous…I mean Burt looks about as Mexican as George W. Bush does an Arab…and yet, a bit of make-up and a first class performance and Burt becomes Bob Valdez, ex-cavalry scout and current lawman (on the Mexican side of town of course).

Many a ‘70s western mirrored hot topics in the here and then, with Viet Nam an obvious target (Soldier Blue and Ulzana’s Raid). It’s not war but race that’s at the heart of Valdez is Coming and considering it offers up a black man murdered for a crime he didn’t do, a pregnant Indian woman now a homeless widow and the browbeaten, and later just plain beaten, Bob Valdez, you’d have to be a little slow on the uptake not to get the film’s message.

For all that the film doesn’t feel preachy, the subtext never getting in the way of what is a damn fine action western. In lesser hands Valdez’s transformation from submissive lawman to a one man guerrilla army would be ridiculous (particularly for someone of his advanced years) but Lancaster makes it real. Bob knows the land, knows the people and, most importantly, knows how to handle a gun (he carries a small arsenal) and Burt, in the way he handles that array of weapons, the way he moves and interacts with the environment, makes it all real.