Welcome once again to the long, lost world of VHS
tapes. For this fifth installment, it’s
my pleasure to welcome on board Mr. Steve Fenton, the incredibly prolific
writer, publisher and all-around good guy who, after a rather long sabbatical,
has been keeping busy writing once gain.
Keep your eyes peeled for his work in the latest issues of Cinema Sewer,
Weng’s Chop and the newly resurrected Monster International. So, let’s globetrot a little and travel to both Venezuela and Greece as he checks out Roberto B. Montero’s sleazy 1973
effort The SEWER RATS.
Mitchell, as Gordon:
“There’s an old rule among thieves, Dick: ‘Never rob one another.’ Or didn’t ya
know that, wise-guy?!”
So far as I can deduce, THE SEWER RATS never secured any sort of Canadian or US theatrical
release — if it ever did, it would have to be only at the sleaziest of fleapit
urban grindhouses, probably at the bottom of discount “3-for-1” multi-bills — but
under that rather catchy Anglo export title, back in the ’80s this was released
in English-dubbed, Spanish-subbed form onto grey-market (“bootleg”) Venezuelan
VHS cassette, which was alternately titled in Spanish as UNA MUJER PARA SIETE MACHOS (loosely translated, “A
Woman for Seven Tough Guys”).*
Based on a story idea by star Richard Harrison, this
exceedingly grubby and modest (okay, minor)
offbeat crime melodrama was heavily influenced by Spaghetti Westerns; as might
well be expected due to its two leading men and the time during which it was
made (i.e., toward the tail-end of the SW craze, which lasted for a good decade
at least, but by then was very much on its last legs). Both Harrison and
Mitchell had long earned their bread and butter in the spaghetti west, so who
can blame them for trying to milk the market for all it was worth; which by
this time often wasn’t much, but you takes what you can get…
Perhaps not boding too well for the present film, the very
first word heard coming out of Harrison’s mouth is “Shit!” Wearing an unflattering Andy Capp hat, he is first seen
driving a psychedelic VW Beetle and spends the duration of the film limping
about on a crutch (which sometimes serves double-duty as a defensive /
offensive weapon). No sooner has his Bug conked-out at the side of a lonely
rural dirt-track somewhere in the ass-end of beyond and he attempts to thumb a
lift, than Harrison — whose typical
onscreen characters were by this point in the actor’s career well used to such
unexpected vicissitudes of fate — is forced to dodge an oncoming
speeding truck. A short time later, his search for a mechanic leads him to a
dilapidated huddle of wooden hovels resembling some alternate reality western
ghost town. At the local saloon, Harrison learns that the big cheese in this
motley cluster of (quote) “pigsty shacks” is Karl (Nino Casale) — the very same guy who had recently
tried turning him into roadkill, apparently for more than just cheap kicks. In
this here no-horse town, not only does the surly, misanthropic Karl own the
sole motorized vehicle to be had, but pretty well everything else besides;
including all the available beer and whiskey, as well as even the only woman in
the whole territory, namely Rita (the frequently semi-nude Dagmar Lassander
[“You’re nuthin’ but a goddamn whore!”]).
For all of Karl’s bastardly bluster however, the real top honcho is actually
Gordon (Mitchell), who suspects that Harrison might be an undercover cop sent
to case the joint in advance of a bust. Unbeknownst to most of the five other
male residents of this outcast community, Gordon and Karl have been hoarding a
sizeable fortune in gold excavated from a nearby mine by a crotchety old
prospector. To protect their secret, the crooks have already murdered one
intruder and buried him in the woods in a shallow grave. Having unflatteringly
christened their game-legged unwanted guest “Cripple,” Gordon and Karl don’t
take kindly to all Harrison’s officious snooping around. Both the gold and the
corpse soon turn up missing (oxymoron alert!), prompting Gordon and Karl to
begin covering their tracks by eliminating all the opposition. Big non-surprise
here is that the guy from the grave was none other than Harrison’s brother
Frank, who was murdered by the odious Karl.
While obviously shot entirely in Italy — at Mitchell’s self-built-and-owned Cave
Film Studios (seen in umpteen “Miles Deem”/Demofilo Fidani spagwests) — THE
SEWER RATS is laid in a generic, indeterminate geographical locale that
could be just about anywhere. Disorientation is increased by the nondescript
accents of voice actors used in the dubbing process (neither Harrison nor
Mitchell bothered sticking around to post-synch their own lines). The usually
dependable Franco Micalizzi’s score is bland and repetitive — the same two-minute phrase is replayed ad
nauseam — and his work here
falls well below the standard of his later energetic compositions for several
key Umberto Lenzi crimeslimers.
When they’ve got nothing better to do — which is often in this threadbare
scenario — locals get their jollies
by tormenting a peeping tom / simpleton / deaf-mute / hunchbacked harmonica
player nicknamed “Idiot” (crimeslime icon Luciano Rossi, with a pillow stuffed
up the back of his jacket [!?]). You know you’re scraping the absolute
barrel-bottom of human mean-spiritedness when typecast lowlife Luciano Rossi is
playing a film’s most sympathetic
character!
Just for a ‘subtle’ product placement, Lassander fends off
a would-be rapist with a broken J&B bottle (“Get out, you goddamn pig!”),
and enjoys exploiting all the volcanic sexual tension her proximity foments
amongst the frustrated menfolk (“You’d sell yer mothers for a quick lay. Assholes!”). Although everybody else in
town has got the uncontrollable hots for her (“It’s not my fault that men have
a desire for me...”), it’s all Lassander can do just to attract Harrison’s
attention, let alone get him to actually put the blocks to her. It takes
several teasy glimpses of her thighs and a flash of her tits before we come to the
distinct conclusion that it’s more than just Harrison’s leg that
requires a crutch (“You some kinda queer?!”).
Most of the crimes depicted in THE SEWER RATS are of the — ahem — sexual variety. For
instance, Rossi’s voyeurism and Casale’s extended abuse / rape of Lassander;
which he ‘consummates’ while grunting like a hog after first slapping her
senseless then ripping off her panties (hey, I don’t write ’em, I just report ’em, okay!). Other violence generally
utilizes standard punch-up choreography which would still have been fresh in
the two American stars’ memories from their western heydays. Other action
involves a switchblade in the throat and a pitchfork to the midriff. Completely
going against the usual grain for shootemups despite the SW comparison I made
above, not one firearm is seen during the entire running time. The film ends as
indifferently as it began, with Harrison killing-off the Mitchell and Casale
characters, then casually driving away with the mortally wounded Lassander
grudgingly in tow, like she’s unwanted baggage he’d gladly dump off by the
roadside at his first opportunity.
Italo action fans could do quite a bit worse, but this
one’s definitely only for those who are easily — very easily — amused. I suppose you can consider that
some kind of recommendation, however backhanded it might sound. But it’s the
best I can do, I’m afraid.
-Steve Fenton
*This very same English dubbed print subsequently
turned up in Greece on PAL videotape courtesy of Sunrise Video, although this time
with much better picture quality and Greek subtitles.
Hey Denzo! Lookin' good. I'm proud to be on the payroll. BTW, your review is all set for the next ish of MONSTER!, and you'll be happy to know that Erik Sulev has given us a review of the Canuck non-classic ROCK'N'ROLL NIGHTMARE too. I look forward to providing you with more of my stuff for your blog.
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