Here’s a translation I did of the more interesting Q/As with Giulio Questi from the Italian audio commentary track on the Cecchi Gori DVD. There’s not one, but three critics: Giona Nazzaro, Antonio Tentori and the late Antonio Bruschini. The audio was recorded twenty days before Questi’s 80th birthday. Questi’s answers are reproduced almost word for word but the experts’ questions are slightly condensed. There’s some spoilers at the end so they’re blurred out.
Bruschini: Yes, Giulio, right from the beginning of the film, we see that it has a look that’s typically more similar to a horror film than a western. A kind of zombie, a living dead vampire, almost all white in this all dark cave, who moves with the Indians with torches. There’s this look, let’s say, a little gothic, a little horrifying. Was it what you wanted from the beginning in the screenplay phase. Had you thought about this or did it come while…
Questi: Well, I wouldn’t say gothic. I would say it’s a natural situation. Because someone who comes out of the ground doesn’t generally come out very clean. [laughs] And since it’s night, they have torches in their hands and not to do some effects to see each other. [laughs]
Bruschini: Of course, but let’s say, as the beginning of a western we’re generally used to seeing the hero arriving on horseback with the sun, etc. Instead, it has a particular, let’s say, very bizarre beginning.
Tentori: Well, as a starting point, it’s a bit of a characteristic of this film. That, maybe there isn’t a hero in this film?
Questi: No, absolutely not. In fact, the attempt to make Tomás Milián a hero is a bit like that. Not that it works very well because it’s not even very coherent in that sense.
Bruschini: Well, yes, he’s almost an anti-hero.
Questi: Yes, absolutely. He’s condemned to be an anti-hero.
Nazzaro: Where are we here? [the ‘white desert’]
Questi: This is on the outskirts of Madrid, a residential quarter was born in this place. And I found this wonderful desert that are three hills, not even high, that the bulldozers had just excavated so tearing up all the vegetation. They stripped everything that was there on these three hills, and here I set a desert. There were some problems, because sometimes it was necessary to move the camera to avoid some bulldozers that were still at work. If you look closely, sometimes you can also see the tracks of the caterpillar that has just passed. But the effect was stupendous, so to speak. I had to stay almost always at the bottom of the three hills, because if I got up further along the slopes of the hill I could see the city beyond. Behold - it’s a magnificent desert. Because it’s white, much more beautiful than the desert of Almeria; which is reddish and has a dominate pink background, which almost seems like a flaw in the film, almost like something going on a magenta pink - whereas this is a completely white desert.
Tentori: Here’s a white desert that’s now starting to turn red. Because this scene gives a little insight into the meaning of the film - for greed, for money, for hatred - this delirious carnage begins. All against all in a certain sense.
Questi: Yes, look at that handsome face [Piero Lulli - laughing at Tomás Milián’s futile attempts to fire his revolver]. But, yes, it’s certainly a tough story. But it’s also a bit, let’s say, it’s the eternal tale of the cargo of gold attacked by bandits. The dividing of the loot turns bad and leads to the violent suppression of others. A cargo of gold that’s gone up in a robbery. A fight within the band for the possession of the gold. Arriving in a village where the villagers are more bandits than the bandits in front of gold. I would say they’re all the clichés of these types of stories, it’s not that there are any particular inventions.
Tentori: Yes, however, the particular invention in my opinion, is that the western then becomes a very atypical western.
Questi: The particular invention is in the type of image, especially this one [a close-up of the bald-headed bandit], for the rest - no, let’s say, it’s just any western story. But in my opinion the particularity and success of the film is linked to the type of image, including the physiognomies of the characters. And by characters I even mean the minor actors, the extras, these generic actors who play bandits.
Bruschini: In fact, I think you told me that they were hippies that you found?
Questi: Yes, in fact, it was my preparatory work. It was very intense preparatory work in finding the so-called faces. And where did I find them? Let’s say, the ‘Mexicans’ among the students and workers who came from South America. There were Chileans, Peruvians, many of these ‘Mexicans’ were Peruvians. And I recruited the other gringos among the hippies - the first hippies who came to Europe in '66. There was a colony of American hippies in Madrid who were based in the Plaza de Santa Ana; which is a well-known square, where there’s a bar very popular with young people and I recruited these American kids there. Plus those with the terrible faces, like this one you’ve just seen [the bald-headed bandit again], I found among the professional wrestlers - some poor wretches [poveri disgraziati] who perform in the squares of Madrid.
Nazzaro: You once stated that the violence seen in the film was: “Inspired by the things you witnessed during the years of the War of Liberation.” [Guerra di Liberazione]
Questi: Yes, that’s absolutely true. Not in a direct obvious way, but while shooting this film and writing the story, I felt like I was talking about situations that weren’t far away. Abstract, but I felt very close to them. Because a few years before, not even that many years earlier in 1943/44/45, I was in the war. I was 18/19/20 years old in those years and I fought in the mountains in partisan formations. I was in the Brigate Giustizia e Libertà high up in the upper Bergamo valleys on the borders of Valtellina. We also went down to Valtellina. So, let’s say, the armed group that moves across a large and uninhabited territory with that kind of community which arises - 20-30 men tied together for life and death - for me these partisan bands became a bit of a source of inspiration to tell stories. This type of band moves across large territories in search of fortune and adventure.
Bruschini: I don’t know if it’s a coincidence; but when there’s the scene we saw previously of the shooting of the Mexicans by the gringos, it’s very reminiscent of a partisan shooting.
Questi: And in fact, I carried with me all the nightmares of those two and a half years of war I fought in the mountains.
Nazzaro: What do you think of this film which was butchered by censorship in Italy. And while abroad; its fame as a film, a cult film, an Italian western par excellence was achieved with expressions of esteem reaching you from the most diverse filmmakers.
Questi: Yes, this is quite true. And because, so to speak, I made the film with a certain enthusiasm. I believed in it a lot also because it was a bit of an adolescent dream coming true. Telling a story that was all my own and which was also full of memories for me. Among other things - of known violence, of known fear. Especially because the fear of death that the characters have, is the fear of death which I also had during the war. I was very afraid of being caught, lynched, shot - I have never forgotten this fear. And having to tell the story of the fury of the people, of a group of, as you might say, the guardians of the town’s morality. Here are the moral guardians of the town who express, let’s say, all the violence that comes from intolerant moralism.
Nazzaro: How did you picture these gay villains in black shirts?
Questi: The black shirts are not overtly meant to indicate fascists. And it came as a result of the situation of the story. Because these guys must have been so bad that I thought it best to dress them in black like fascists. It seemed very clear to me. In short, to be then contrasted with the white panama of their boss, señor Sorro: the owner of plantations, of farmland, of the countryside; let’s say, a landowner, he’s the typical landowner.
Bruschini: It was seized and censored shortly after about a week of release.
Questi: Yes, because the bullet and the scalping scenes were censored for reasons of public order. That’s to say, it wasn’t a magistrate who intervened, but a police commissioner. Because in a theatre, I don’t know which city, I think Milan, a couple of people felt ill. Then I don’t know who’s suggestion intervened to stop the film but the cutting of a couple of scenes was urgently requested. The scenes were cut and the film resumed immediately afterwards. It was not a court proceeding. A public order intervention, let’s call it that.
Tentori: Well, Tomás Milián, it’s one of his first films, westerns, etc. But he already has his own form of acting, very much his own. In short, very, very intense. But he’s more controlled in comparison.
Questi: Yes, of course, because what he did in the film seemed very little to him from an expressive point of view. Because he was held fast to a kind of existential torment that he felt meant that he could have a great range of expressiveness as an actor. In fact, after this film he managed to break loose and even became the commissioner - that one, of the garbage [a reference to Milián’s character in ‘Il trucido e lo sbirro’]. [laughs] He’s had an evolution as an actor, let’s say.
Nazzaro: However, this also serves as a reminder to those who still say today that Milián, in reality, is just a gigione [a ham actor] and not a complex talent at all.
Questi: No, in fact, he came from Bolognini’s films. He also came from Italian neorealist cinema.
Bruschini: Then, he eventually returned to Antonioni with ‘Identification of a Woman’. Yes, in fact, there were those who said at the time that you chose Tomás Milián because he looked like you. He was a sort of alter ego of yours.
Questi: No, they said it, yes. Vaguely it could be said in the attitude more than anything else. But I don’t know, a lot of people have said that.
Bruschini: How did the title ‘Se sei vivo spara’ come about?
Questi: I remember, [the title] ‘Se sei vivo spara’ was born, thanks to Gian Carlo Fusco. He was a great friend of mine and Arcalli’s. We were searching for, let’s say, an effective title as ‘Oro Hondo’ wasn’t commercial at all for the distributor. We showed him the film and he had a lot of fun and then tried various titles. I remember it very well - Fusco, Arcalli and I were sketching out various titles and Gian Carlo Fusco came out with ‘Se sei vivo spara!’ Christ - that’s it, the title! [laughs]
Nazzaro: How many weeks did it take to shoot?
Questi: The film was broken up over time. Because I left for Spain and worked for about a month and a half in the production office of the Spanish co-producer who had taken over the production in Spain. And I worked for a month and a half to find the actors, the faces, to populate the film with significant faces. So I looked for non-professional actors, just like those American hippies, the wrestlers, etc. I then chose the main Spanish actors who lived in Madrid. And above all, I did the inspections to find the desert. Then they told me that the estimates didn’t show enough money to go to Almeria to do the desert; which was a ritual that all westerns did and that was denied to me because there was no money for it. So I thought about setting it in the mountains or in the countryside. But it didn’t make sense until I accidentally discovered this construction site where there was this excavation work to build a residential quarter. After that, we started the film and shot all the parts in Spain. Then we went back and finished the film in Rome. I did some things in Manziana in the countryside and then the entire final part in Villa Mussolini. And overall it was a three-month job. Including, let’s say, that week of vacation that occurred during the transfer from Madrid to Rome.
Nazzaro: How was the public’s reception of the film?
Questi: But it was, so to speak, between dismay and enthusiasm and also a good portion of disgust. [laughs]
Nazzaro: This is a great finale.
Bruschini: Yes, completely cynical here too. The woman dies…
Questi: The prophet of liberation arrives. Without having saved anyone. In fact, not even himself…
Tentori: There’s no redemption in this western. There’s no salvation for anyone, after all, he’s basically a spectator…
Bruschini: He doesn’t take an active part that much, the only thing he does is kill señor Sorro at the end with a pistol shot…
Nazzaro: But he closes his eyes; it’s significant that in the face of such horror, he no longer wants to see…
Questi: You see her burning like a match, it’s terrible. And you see the cemetery completely desecrated and the children who continue these sadistic games, are the future citizens of the town. They’re not yet bad, but they emit the first verses of a future wickedness… [laughs]
Nazzaro: And the only concept similar, so to speak, to the classic western - the hero who rides away…
Questi: Here with him riding away utterly defeated.