I senza Dio (1972) - Director: Roberto Bianchi Montero - 6/10.
This could have become a minor classic had it been headed by a more resolute director and had it been outfitted with a more distinguished cast. Be that as it may, the movie still packs a punch and certainly punches above its weight, especially taking into account its very late release date. However, there is no disguising the fact that it could have turned out even better and on certain occasions, it sinks in that it lacks that extra push, failing to leave a lasting impression in the end. Sabato and Avram are both fine and generate quite a bit of chemistry when they are on screen together, the bigger issue resides in Jose Jaspe who looks more like a dissheveled hobo rather than a charismatic Mexicano and he appears somewhat miscast as the bloodthristy gang leader.
Montero’s execution is more than adequate and exhibits some uncanny stylistic flourishes seen for instance in Sabato’s kaleidoscopic flashback scenes which almost resemble the grindhouse feature presentation in their colorful efflorescence and stand in stark contrast to the rest of the ordinarily helmed storyline. With that being said, some shootouts are at a loss for some additional oomph in that they are somewhat lacking in the stylistic department and it could be argued that some components could have been consolidated a tiny bit better, though I do realize this is just me cavilling about petty details. This is an outing every aficionado should track down sooner or later, as there is plenty to enjoy here and it constitutes one of the best entries released in 1972.
Così sia (1972) - Director: Alfio Caltabiano - 2/10.
Now I do realize this was produced with certain audiences in mind and one needs to approach the work at hand in the right state of mind and preferably, intoxicate themselves before embarking on the whole enchilada, but on the other hand, that is a whole lot of provisos and preconditions one needs to meet before fully appreciating what essentially constitutes a scuzzy piece of vaudeville trash. If unclogging your toilet or doing your laundry seems like a more disporting and rewarding prospect than what ought to be a piece of entertainment at the end of the day, then perhaps such entertainment is not sufficiently entertaining to begin with. There is no style nor is there any three-dimensional or even one-dimensional storyline to latch onto, there is nothing here.
Although, at some point, a bank robbery scheme emerges out of the chaos of paltry, loosely related sketches involving gay jokes, dropping pants, stealing horses, all that good stuff, that also ultimately yields to the more meretricious considerations, guiding the production into the nether regions of the genre. The even bigger issue consists in that Merenda and Caltabiano do not make for a very compelling pair of comedians and fail to carry this largely flaccid mixture of base humor; therefore, the only element the flick has to fall back on is its slapstick which it admittedly provides in spades. Notwithstanding, for it to work, the slapstick also requires some impeccable directing, brisk rendition and a charismatic leading man charming the audience whenever he appears on the screen; none of that is present here, so what unfolds brings tedium, horror, tears of desperation and gnashing of teeth.
Only a handful more and then I will be free at last.
