Sangue chiama sangue (1968) - Director: Luigi Capuano - 3/10.
Though the film technically reworks the revenge formula in order to incorporate some twists and turns in the way the tale unfolds, the extremely stodgy execution proves largely sleep-inducing and makes the motion picture a real chore to sit through. The refreshing thing about the flick is that most characters stay in the dark as to the identity of their true adversaries and this is further complicated by the interminable scheming of Sancho’s concubine as well as everybody’s quest for the diadem, so the narration turns out quite convoluted and intricate in the way different allegiances play out and exert an impact on the narrative trajectory.
Whether all of that translates into a gratifying film-viewing experience is another matter altogether though and what evetually stymies some of film’s aforementioned assets is Capuano’s remarkably corny, one-dimensional directing the old-fashioned disposition of which is further compounded by De Masi’s customarily antiquated score. Moreover, the motion picture tends to put emphasis on drama at the expense of action which is something I am usually a fan of, but here just proves remarkably tedious and soporific in that the flick simply comes to be reminiscent of a soap opera. Sancho puts on a good show as always, other performers are fine for the most part, but there is simply no sidestepping the issue of the passé direction, the nondescript, insipid craftsmanship and oppressively mawkish drama.
Reverendo Colt (1970) - Director: Marino Girolami - 3/10.
In spite of the superficially decent craftsmanship apparent in the way the shootouts are staged, there is a streak of vexing ineptitude pervading the entire storyline and manifesting itself in every second scene in that characters are wont to say things no self-respecting writer with a modicum of common sense and good taste would come up with. Though Madison acts out this nonsense with a straight face, which is quite incredible given some of the lines he elocutes, most situations dangerously verge on becoming outright parodic. What is even worse, Chris Huerta turns up in a skirt, yet again impersonating an imbecile and playing the bagpipes much to my joy of course; oh well, he does not gad about topless or giggle like a girlie at the very least, so there is still something to be thankful for.
Suffice to say, the characters engage in some really stupid dialogues and perform inane actions on a pretty much regular basis insofar as it hard to tell whether the intended effect here is supposed to be serious or semi-facetious in nature. The situation is not remedied to any extent by the fact that essentially the entirety of the second half is dedicated to… well, nothing really, the depiction of protagonists basically waiting for some breakthrough to happen I guess, so they become spectators just as much as the audience watching them watching the horizon for some signs of a rescue team coming their way. At any rate, the narrative thenceforth goes totally down the drain and the final scene is so asinine I am at a loss for words. Despite the glaring shortcomings, it is still strangely watchable, though there is no gainsaying this is one heck of a turkey all right.