Following the runaway success of William Friedkin’s THE FRENCH CONNECTION (1971) and Don Siegel’s DIRTY HARRY (1971), it didn’t take long for Italy to begin producing countless imitations. With their distinctly anarchic tone and scenes of gritty violence, many of these homegrown pictures also reflected the societal ills and political climate in Italy at the time (a timeframe that became known as anni di piombo or the Years of Lead) while blazing a trail towards a new kind of filmmaking during the ’70s. Commonly referred to as polizieschi, landmark films such as Stefano Vanzina’s THE EXECUTION SQUAD (1971), Enzo G. Castellari’s HIGH CRIME (1973) and Umberto Lenzi’s undisputed action classic THE TOUGH ONES (1976) are just a few of the titles that, if mentioned today, are usually synonymous with briskly-paced action and some effectively disturbing violence. But, as with any filmmaking trend in Italy, this surge in popularity quickly resulted in several films which were wildly diverse in genre and tone, not unlike the films included in Vinegar Syndrome Labs’ first volume of EUROCRIME RARITIES.
In the noir-inspired DAY OF THE COBRA (1980), the film marked the sixth time director Enzo G. Castellari had the satisfaction of working with Franco Nero. Better known under his serpentine namesake, “The Cobra,” Nero plays Larry Stanziani, a disgraced narcotics agent who was framed by powerful bureaucrats and jailed for three years. While struggling to earn his keep as a second-rate PI in San Francisco, Stanziani is approached by his old narcotics bureau chief Goldschmidt (Willam Berger) with an offer to crack an important case in Genoa, Italy involving his old nemesis Serge Kandinsky, a club-footed international drug-smuggler with a stiletto swordstick and shadowy identity (“He’s a homosexual. The worst kind. Violent.”). But when Kandinsky is murdered, Stanziani must track down the bigshots behind the lucrative heroin syndicate, which includes locating a key to an elusive safety deposit box containing a list of all the dealers’ top-level dope connections.
Incessantly chewing gum in his perpetually rumpled fedora and trenchcoat, the “incorruptible” Nero is first seen driving an AMC Gremlin around the Frisco streets, while trying to relieve his daily stress by squeezing on a black rubber ball. Nero, as quirkily charismatic as ever, kicks impressive butt as the outwardly mild-mannered but durable lead who weaves his way through the film’s numerous plot twists. The somewhat messy scenario also embraces Castellari’s stock-in-trade with several top-notch if no-frills stunt choreography. Highlights include a dockland footchase / shootout that ends with exploding gasoline drums, a smackhead Kungfu vixen puts the foot to Nero in a nightclub only to be unwigged as Kandinsky’s draghag gay lover, and a climatic shootout at an abandoned warehouse, which sees Castellari regulars Romano Puppo and Massimo Vanni going through the rounds.
Thanks to Media Home Entertainment’s widely distributed VHS and Beta videocassettes, Castellari’s film was available in just about every video store during the ’80s and ’90s. However, it wasn’t so fortunate during the DVD era with Televista’s unauthorized bootleg (which was nothing more than a VHS rip ported to DVD) being the sole option, at least here in North America. With the advent of Blu-ray, DAY OF THE COBRA was released on several English-friendly discs in Germany from the likes of FilmArt, Media Target and Cinestrange. Featuring a nicely detailed restoration, Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-ray is noticeably more colourful and better balanced than FilmArt’s release, which does appear more faithful to its original presentation highlighting many of the gritty textures of the Genoa docklands and abandoned warehouses. Audio options are available in both English and Italian, both of which are DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono with the latter option having proper English translated subtitles. Both audio tracks are effective with Paolo Vasile’s rugged score perfectly accenting the film’s hard-hitting veneer. SDH subtitles are also included.
Included on the disc are a nice selection of special features beginning with an audio commentary from the always welcome trio of authors and film historians Nathaniel Thompson, Troy Howarth and Eugenio Ercolani. In this immersive discussion, they explore the film’s place within the world of polizieschi (or if the film qualifies as such) and its place within Franco Nero’s filmography, Enzo G. Castellari’s fondness for stunt-laden films, the film’s colourful cast and crew, and plenty more besides. It’s an engaging, must listen, which covers a wide spectrum of topics that offers plenty of insight and valuable information into Castellari’s working methods and the peculiarities of the genre itself. In The Director Who Looked Like a Stuntman (24m16s), Castellari sits down for an on-camera interview, which has him discuss his enthusiasm for action scenes and the “supportive” collaboration he had with stuntmen. He also charts the genesis of the film and how co-writer Aldo Lado was originally slated to direct, his choice of setting the film in the port city of Genoa, “the Humphrey Bogart and Jennifer Jones kind of vibe” he added to the film, his first rocky meeting with “actor on the rise” Nero prior to making HIGH CRIME, and the casting for said film, which usually required finding actors that were “highly expressive physically as well as agile on their feet.” In the second featurette Henchman with a Heart of Gold (21m57s), prolific actor / stuntman Massimo Vanni (who would later adopt the Alex McBride alias for his string of Philippine-lensed action / horror films such as Claudio Fragasso’s AFTER DEATH [1989]) goes over his work in the ’70s, which required a lot of physical action alongside the acting, the spontaneous nature of the action scenes, his work with mentor and friend Castellari who always “enjoyed a great relationship with his stuntmen,” working in San Francisco, and so much more.
In DIRTY GANG, the second film on Vinegar Syndrome’s set, trigger-happy robbers hole-up in a fancy residence with a number of hostages. To stall for time, District Attorney Alberti (Mario Brega) agrees to their increasingly agitated demands for safe transportation elsewhere, but as they impatiently await their promised car, determined Inspector Ghini (Luc Merenda) leads his Special Squad on a surprise raid. No sooner has Ghini mopped up his mess – except for the paperwork – than he is dispatched to the scene of Chief Inspector Taddei’s homicide by masked bandits, making this the sixth policeman murdered in less than a year. This latest murder has armed robbery specialist Antonio Lanza’s name written all over it, even though Lanza (Franco Citti) has recently been locked up in a Sardinian prison. Obviously not convinced, Ghini then has the unenviable task of proving otherwise…
Providing added comic relief, Tomas Milian reprises his role as “Monnezza” or “Err Monnezza, if one chooses to replicate the Roman dialect (usually referred to on English prints as either “Trashy” or “Garbage Can”), a character that was first introduced in Umberto Lenzi’s FREE HAND FOR A TOUGH COP (1976). Essentially a cross between his “Cuchillo” character from his two Sergio Sollima westerns and a far less sociopathic variation of Aldo Caponi’s “Blade” in Mario Bava’s RABID DOGS (1974), Milian once again sports a resplendent yet laughable ‘Afro’ wig and an increasing amount of eyeliner, and this time maintains his shaky cover by running a pasta restaurant. An underworld player who has a heart of gold underneath his coarse exterior, he also plays Fagin to a motley mob of petty street crooks giving seminars on the creative art of theft via his Free Independent Gangsters’ Academy. But when one of Monnezza’s ‘graduates’ (Paolo Bonetti) takes a job as a getaway driver on a diamond robbery for slick Sicilian bandit Belli (Elio Zamuto), Belli considers a dead accomplice way less of hindrance than a live one. Needless to say, Trashy’s gang – though avowed pacifists all – are determined to see their friend avenged.
Thanks to Milian’s performance as the casually lawless Monnezza, DIRTY GANG is more personable and generally less mean-spirited than some of Umberto Lenzi’s work within the genre. Outside of his cartoonish appearance, Milian invests his character with some depth and pathos (here wonderfully dubbed on Italian prints by Milian’s dubber of choice Ferruccio Amendola), which is an interesting contrast to Merenda’s unorthodox conduct punishing criminals in his own inimitable style. That said, DIRTY GANG attains a nice middle ground, balancing its comedic elements with sufficient straight-ahead action, which should easily satisfy Eurocrime enthusiasts.
Also referred to as THE RASCAL’S GANG on Vinegar Syndrome’s box set, this consistently watchable crossover was also released on U.K. videotape as DESTRUCTION FORCE (it’s most common title), which showed up in several grey-market editions throughout the ’90s from outfits such as Luminous Film & Video Wurks. In 2021, it surfaced in Germany as a limited edition Blu-ray/DVD mediabook (with variant covers), which finally allowed English-language viewers to see the film in its intended 2.35:1 aspect ratio, even if it was only 1080i. Three DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono audio tracks in German, Italian and English were also included with optional German and English subtitles, but the English subs were taken from the German dub track, so watching the film in its native Italian didn’t work at all. The shorter German theatrical version (84m34s) was also included, alongside an archival featurette produced by Nocturno with Merenda Milian and Massi (19m59s), the film’s German trailer (3m02s) alongside additional Italocrime trailers, and a 24-page booklet in German and English with writing from Giorgio Navarro.
As expected, Vinegar Syndrome’s new restoration offers a very pleasing experience with excellent detail, stronger colours, and a more film-like appearance. Aside from a few instances of brief instability due to some inherent damage on the film, this new presentation is a huge improvement, which goes the same for the DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono audio options in English and Italian. Thanks to the inclusion of properly translated English subtitles for the latter track (and SDH subtitles), this Italian dub adds tremendously to the film’s overall enjoyment. While it’s always nice to have multiple audio options included, the film is severely compromised in its crummy English-language variant, which includes the most cartoonish succession of post-synched voices ever heard. Most amusing is the thick ethnic drawl given to Milian, while Mario Brega is dubbed with a comically shrill rasp that sounds like gravel-throated actor Lionel Stander after inhaling helium. One dubbing artist (the best of the lot, but that ain’t sayin’ much!) with a pompous uppercrust English accent also modulates his tones and dubs several characters throughout the film! This notorious group of English dubbing artists also worked on several Eurociné productions as well as other Italocrime pictures that include Segri & Ferrara’s VIOLENCE FOR KICKS (1977) and Stelvio Massi’s otherwise entertaining HUNTED CITY (1979).
As for extras, both Eugenio Ercolani and Troy Howarth return for another excellent audio commentary with observations on Stelvio Massi’s entire career, Milian’s numerous crime films and the “fierce debate” over the creation of “Err Monnezza,” Merenda’s contributions to the genre and the animosity between the two lead actors, the odd “schizophrenic” nature of said film, the re-purposed music of Bruno Canfora, the very “complex world of producers in Italy,” and their final thoughts on Massi’s cop films. Complimenting this informative and thoughtful discussion, the VS disc also offers a pair of on-camera interviews beginning with The Nonviolent Professional (20m01s), which has Merenda going over his career and his attempt to make films that were “a little different,” his respect for Milian, even though Milian wanted “nothing to do with him,” and his lasting relationship with director Massi. In A Beautiful Ugly Face (23m50s), actor Corrado Solari talks about his work in the theatre during the late ’60s, his fortuitous casting in Sergio Leone’s DUCK, YOU SUCKER (a.k.a. A FISTFUL OF DYNAMITE, 1971), his many crime pictures which he did with “great enthusiasm,” and the improvisational acting style of Tomas Milian in this well-edited piece that turns out to be a very enjoyable career overview of the man’s work.
Having already collaborated with Massi on the stunt-laden car crash spectacular HIGHWAY RACER (1977), which starred Merli in a rare appearance sans his trademark ’70s-style ’stache – THE IRON COMMISSIONER (1978) is far more restrained than your usual Merli headliner. This time the iconic lead stars as Maurizio “Mauro” Mariani, an overconfident (“I always luck out!”) police detective who, at the start of the film, thwarts a group of kidnappers and rescues a rich industrialist’s daughter at the behest of his superior Crivelli (Chris Avram). Urged by his colleagues to go visit his son Claudio (Walter Di Santo) on his birthday, Mauro also meets up with his estranged wife Vera (Janet Agren), who still resents him for putting his job before she and their son. Meanwhile, back at the station, Sergio Conforti (Massimo Mirani), an unstable young man who blames Mauro for killing his father, takes a group of people hostage, but when Vera and Claudio accidentally stumble into the precinct, Claudio is snatched for added security, and Mauro will stop at nothing to get him back…
Written by prolific writer Roberto Gianviti, THE IRON COMMISSIONER was most likely more ambitious in its conception than what actually transpires on screen. A subplot involving a kidnapping ring run by the “Moroccan” (amusingly played by Italian typecast ‘lowlife’ performer Franco Garofalo) and his main squeeze Rita (Mariangela Giordano who would later become immortalized in the Italian trash horror classics BURIAL GROUND [1980] and GIALLO A VENEZIA [1980]) accounts for much of the film’s compulsory action scenes (including a stylishly-realized shootout at a bottling factory). That said, a sizeable portion of the ‘action’ unfolds within the dreary confines of a police precinct, a fact which only further substantiates the film’s quickie status. As the title suggests, Mauro never wavers in his fight to uphold the law… even when he himself is breaking it! Mauro’s almost habitual dissention is, for the most part, reluctantly accepted (“…you gamble with your life as if you were playing cards!”), but when Mauro’s son is kidnapped, even his CO Crivelli doesn’t hesitate to stop him. As with many of the subsequent Massi / Merli collaborations, THE IRON COMMISSIONER is at times actually quite introspective, not only waxing philosophical on the futility of the thankless job of law enforcement (a typical observation of most Italocrime films), but also the sheer loneliness of it; which, in this case, is further exacerbated by the possibility of Mauro losing everything (i.e., his son). This situation not only pushes him right to the very brink, but just about breaks his ‘iron-clad’ persona in the process.
Announced in advance trade press notices as both THE IRON INSPECTOR and COP OF IRON, the Italian version has been released numerous times on Italian VHS videocassette by the likes of Avo Film, Cine International and Video 7. In 2004, Avo Film debuted the film on DVD and their bare bones disc featured a solid 16x9 transfer, but as expected, the only audio option was a Dolby Digital Italian track. In 2018, Cinestrange released this long-dormant Italocrime film on Blu-ray in its very first English-friendly edition under the German title KOMMISSAR MARIANI – ZUM TODE VERURTEILT (trans: “Commissioner Mariani – Sentenced to Death”) as part of their ‘Violenza All’ Italiana’ collection. Once again, Cinestrange’s transfer is middling at best, which appears to have succumbed to a fair amount of unnecessary noise reduction. Both German and Italian audio options are offered in DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0, with a choice of either German or English subtitles, and while many of the subs do include a fair amount of grammatical errors, they’re intelligible enough and are greatly appreciated indeed during much of the film’s talky stretches. Extras include a newly created trailer, and an extensive still gallery (33m02s) playing over Lallo Gori’s uncharacteristic electronic score, which was originally issued by Beat Records on CD with Gori’s score for Giuseppe Vari’s GANGSTERS (1977). Bonus trailers for Sergio Martino’s completely bonkers AMERICAN RICKSHAW (1990) and Karim Hussein’s experimental shocker SUBCONSCIOUS CRUELTY (2000) conclude the extras. Also housed within the Mediabook is a nicely-illustrated 12-page booklet with an essay by Leonhard Elias Lemke entitled “The Iron Detective and the Years of Lead”, but unfortunately, the article’s text is in German only.
While not the most vibrantly photographed film, the VS restoration of THE IRON COMMISSIONER is miles better in terms of detail and overall sharpness, even if it sports some brief water damage and mild imperfections here and there; it’s a very faithful, film-like presentation that respects DOP Sergio Rubini’s deliberately muted palette. As with their DIRTY GANG disc, VS include DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono audio options in both English and Italian once again, the latter with properly translated English subtitles. As for the special features, film critic Nanni Cobretti joins Ercolani for another insightful audio commentary which has the pair discuss Merli’s career at length (commonly regarded as “the face of the genre”) and how this little-seen film remains one of Merli’s most “representative” titles in his filmography. They regard the film as a “nice change of pace,” and offer some particularly interesting comments about Massi’s directorial style and how most of his crime films rely heavily on Merli’s persona, while further discussions include their thoughts on the derisive poliziotteschi moniker, which was originally coined by Italian film critics, most of the cast and crew, and plenty more besides in this relaxed and well-researched listen. In the fittingly titled Free Hand for a Tough DOP (23m36s), Rubini sits down for a chat about his start as a camera operator, his “work experiences” with Pier Paolo Pasolini, his dislike working on westerns which were unavoidable at the time, his eventually transition to becoming a DOP, working with the “unstoppable Massi” who was always up for a challenge, and how Merli was a “real pain in the neck” and obsessed with highlighting his hair and pearly blues. Stelvio’s son Danilo also has plenty to say about Merli’s “swashbuckling personality” in The Purest Form of Poliziesco (20m09s) while also discussing his work as an assistant director on his father’s films where he learned “the basics of the craft” and to “tell stories in a measured way.”
Housed in a beautifully designed rigid slipbox, VS have also included a thick booklet with informative essays from James Oliver, Adrian Smith and Francesco Massaccesi, all of which add further context to these once underseen films. Offering great restorations and a wealth of informative special features, this highly-pleasing set is an easy recommendation for anyone invested in Italian polizieschi or for those viewers wishing to expand their knowledge beyond the works of Umberto Lenzi or Fernando Di Leo. Order EUROCRIME RARITIES: VOLUME 1 from Vinegar Syndrome.
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