SEAGULLS FLY LOW - BLU-RAY REVIEW

One of the more elusive entries in Maurizio Merli’s extensive Italocrime filmography, Giorgio Cristallini’s SEAGULLS FLY LOW (1978) unfolds at a decidedly leisurely pace, and has more in common with film noirs than the more traditional vigilante cop shoot-’em-ups Merli usually inhabits. A long-time victim of shoddy VHS releases, Cineploit Records & Discs’ new “worldwide 2K Blu-ray premiere” is yet another first-rate disc in their ever-growing catalogue of Euro Cult releases. 

Looking disheveled, and sporting a thick handlebar moustache under a mop of matted hair, Merli stars as Jeff Jacobson, a Vietnam deserter who occasionally resorts to murder due to economic circumstance. Often referred to as “The Mechanic”, Jeff arrives in Rome after he is blackmailed to do a “job” for corrupt industrialist Roberto Micheli (Mel Ferrer, in a part originally envisioned for Ray Milland), by killing Mauro Martini, one of his business associates who “wanted to testify before the commission”. Following a long, suspense-filled drive from the airport wherein two of Micheli’s associates (including the always charismatic Franco Garofalo) keep a close eye on him, Jeff fulfills his contract quickly and efficiently, but a sudden ’Nam flashback (cheaply executed through stock footage of war atrocities tinged with a blood-red filter) exposes his vulnerability. Later that day at the airport, his jittery disposition comes to fruition when he is spooked during a routine passport check and flees. He promptly returns to Roberto who begrudgingly helps him create a new identity (he basically cuts his hair and shaves his mustache) and arranges yet another passport for him, this time under the name Albert Morgan.

 

But then Micheli’s other business partner, Giorgio Calvi (Andrea Esterhazy) becomes increasingly paranoid, and as a protective measure, orders a hit on both Jeff and Micheli. While eluding his killers, Jeff must also try and track down his new passport, which not only leads him to Umparo (Dagmar Lassander), one of of Micheli’s many influential friends, but also Isabelle Michereau (Nathalie Delon), a shopkeeper who agrees to help him… 

 

Obviously taking a cue from Jean Pierre Melville’s masterpiece LE SAMOURAÏ (1967), and even sharing that film’s co-star, much of  SEAGULLS FLY LOW mid-section concerns itself with the lead character’s psychological stress and mounting paranoia, with Merli giving a highly credible performance as the nervous hitman; a nice change of pace for the usually typecast actor. The rest of the cast also give fine performances including the always gorgeous Nathalie Delon, but as predicted in this quickie, name-brand co-stars Mel Ferrer (who at least dubs his own voice on English prints) and Eurotrash sex kitten Dagmar Lassander are rationed out rather frugally. As the self-proclaimed real brains behind the operation, the former hides behind the trappings of respectability, but makes no moral distinctions when it comes to his interests, especially in this world that seems to be constantly moving in cagey circles. 

 

Overall, everything is handled convincingly enough, but it does spend a little too much time on Merli’s and Delon’s burgeoning romance. At one point, our smitten couple observe the title scavenging shithawks (“They’re always looking for something more to eat, and this sea of garbage is their only happiness”), which is subsequently followed by one of the film’s low points: a bout of tender lovemaking in a cheap motel, which is mercifully short and hilariously intercut alongside Isabelle’s panting dog! Shrewder pacing would have been a plus, but the film’s gritty tone aptly conveys the dog-eat-dog existence of the criminal world, adding plenty of authenticity.

 

A real obscurity, SEAGULLS FLY LOW did appear on Italian and German VHS videocassettes in the eighties but for English speaking viewers, the Greek videotape from Video Alsen was the only worthwhile edition, that is, if you could find it. Like most Greek tapes, it was annoyingly cropped and the picture quality was average at best, but it was in English, and that was all that really mattered. Never issued on DVD, Cineploit’s new Region B Blu-ray is a very welcome release of this once-difficult-to-see film, which looks fantastic. Film textures look authentic with lots of shadowy detail, realistic colours and some nice depth, although a few interior scenes appear a little less crisp, which may be true of Gino Santini’s original photography. The DTS-HD 2.0 audio includes tracks in German, Italian and English, with the Italian and German ones sounding the strongest (which also includes accurately translated subtitles). The very welcome English audio is occasionally hissy and not quite as robust, but honestly, this isn’t much of a distraction at all. 

 

Given the film’s rarity, Cineploit have included several very worthwhile extras beginning with Maurizio Merli: A Lethal Hunter of Subtle Variation (29m), a terrific look at Merli’s less-talked about Eurocrime roles with tough-guy film expert Mike Malloy. He discusses Merli’s numerous attempts to “branch out” beginning with Stelvio Massi’s HIGHWAY RACER (1977) right on through to Gianni Siragusa’s VULTURES OVER THE CITY (1980), and freely admits that many of these roles are “only minor variations of the same tough-guy mold.” It’s a wonderfully produced featurette with a keen eye for detail, which not only showcases some terrific promotional material, but is a perfect primer for anyone looking to broaden their appreciation into some of the more obscure Eurocrime films that are beginning to surface on disc. Other extras include alternate German and English opening credit sequences (2m22s) sourced from VHS, a brief poster and vidart gallery (25s) and the film’s exceptional soundtrack (57m01s) as composed by Roberto Pregadio and Carlo Cristallini. As with all of Cineploit’s releases, it’s beautifully packaged in a slick mediabook (available in four different cover variations at the following links: cover A, cover B, cover C, and cover D), which also includes a nicely illustrated liner notes booklet with writing by Udo Rotenberg, and with English translations by Matt Thompson.

 

Even if the film lacks the true visceral punch and driving tabloid dynamism of Maurizio Merli’s other, more infamous Eurocrime films such as Umberto Lenzi’s THE TOUGH ONES (1976), SEAGULLS FLY LOW remains engaging nonetheless, especially via Cineploit’s superb new Blu-ray. 

THE NEW GODFATHERS - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Having already partnered with Neapolitan crooner Mario Merola on several Naples-based poliziesco / mafia actioners, director Alfonso Brescia was about to embark on I CONTRABBANDIERI DI SANTA LUCIA (trans: “The Smugglers of Santa Lucia”, 1979), which, according to early press announcements, promised a much bigger production with location work in New York, Marseilles and Istanbul. However, given Brescia’s usual paucity of anything resembling a decent budget, he and his producer Ciro Ippolito, along with brothers Piero and Mario Bregni of Produzioni Atlas Consorziati (PAC), instead relied on using ‘previously-enjoyed’ footage from earlier PAC productions to give the film its (seemingly) sprawling scope. While most of the Brescia / Merola collaborations were usually intended for strictly domestic consumption, PAC evidently had higher-than-usual expectations for this ‘globe-trotting’ effort, even going so far as to prepare an English-language version for overseas Anglo markets and temptingly retitling the film THE NEW GODFATHERS. Yet, despite its obvious low budget, this is probably one of Brescia’s most accessible forays into cinema napoletana; which, thanks to the folks at Cineploit, THE NEW GODFATHERS has recently made its English-friendly Blu-ray debut in fine style indeed.

 

While never straying far from its Italocrime roots, THE NEW GODFATHERS also adheres to the cinema napoletana template quite faithfully. Modelled after the post-WWI Neapolitan ethnic theatre, which was popular among the working class, this obscure subgenre (sometimes referred to as cinesceneggiata or sceneggiata napoletana) featured soap opera-styled scenarios, which usually combined such vital components as love, honour and—of course!—vendetta. In January of ’79, Variety reported on the sudden popularity of such movies: “Cigarette smugglers, the backbone of Naples’ sagging economy, are fast becoming the new antiheroes of Neapolitan cinema.” However, by May of ’79, Variety also reported: “The Neapolitan trend is now reaching its crest…”, even as Ippolito and the Bregni brothers had already committed to a neo-sceneggiata three-picture deal with Merola and Brescia, which for the record also included IL MAMMASANTISSIMA (1979) and IL TUA VITA PER MIO FIGLIO (1980).

 

The lucrative flow of narcotics from the Middle East is jeopardized due to political unrest in Iran. Customs officer Capt. Ivan Radovich (Gianni Garko) believes Naples will be used as a stopover for a large shipment of heroin bound for the U.S. market. Although “highly experienced in the tactics of smuggling”, Radovich enlists the help of Don Francesco Autiero (Mario Merola), a prominent cigarette-runner whose banditi di motoscafi blu (“bandits in blue motorboats”) keep the Guardia di Finanza busy on the choppy shores of Naples. In one of the film’s most impressively-realized sequences, Don Francesco schools Radovich on the strenuous life of the everyday working class (“Here in Naples, smuggling is a profession. A full-time job!”), who are driven to low-level trafficking because (quote) “the law condemns the homeless and jobless.” Earlier in the film, further verisimilitude is achieved via Brescia’s docu-style camerawork as it prowls the overcrowded city streets and ports, whilst an emotional canzone—a key ingredient in most cinema napoletana films—from Merola himself is heard on the soundtrack. 

 

Don Michele Vizzini (Antonio Sabàto), a big-time underworld financier, is initially approached by Don Francesco and Radovich to help stop the flow of heroin through Naples (“It’s so rare to work with cops. I can’t help feeling a bit strange!”), but unknown to either of them, Vizzini is working in cahoots with the international drug cartel led by the New York faction of the mob. Using his local confectionary factory as a front for dope production and distribution, Vizzini’s candied nuts (no pun intended) are glazed with pure heroin, so when Merola innocently feeds a little neighbourhood girl (Letizia D’Adderio) one of these ‘sugared’ candies, she winds up in the ER from a smack overdose. Upon quickly realizing that Vizzini is behind the heroin-coated confections, Don Francesco sets off for NYC in pursuit of Vizzini…

 

Before settling in Naples, Brescia’s desperately ambitious film opens with a nearly 12-minute prologue detailing the expansive opium trade as it moves from Tehran to Istanbul. Utilizing grainy stock footage of the Iranian revolution (including shots of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini) and some striking location work taken from Ferdinando Baldi’s earlier—much-superior—gangster pic THE SICILIAN CONNECTION (1972), Brescia does, however, succeed in instilling some production values with several authentically-shot Istanbul locales. As with most of Brescia’s / Merola’s ethnically-slanted crime programmers, Merola is forced to contend with a new breed of professional criminals who are no longer interested in contraband Marlboros. As the film’s heavy, genre fave Sabàto once again reprises his role as one vicious carogna who arrogantly usurps Don Francesco’s territory by killing-off most of his trusted smugglers. But despite the rivalries, it’s the little girl’s accidental overdose that proves to be the final straw, and this leads into a drawn-out revenge scenario that culminates with a helicopter / automobile pursuit through the “outskirts” of New York. Set to a truly cheesy disco theme, this wannabe ‘large-scale’ chase sequence once again recycles significant footage from Baldi’s aforementioned film, which was ‘carefully’ reedited to include Merola, Garko and Sabàto. 

 

Outside of Merola and Sabàto, the film contains a roster of familiar faces. Bushy-haired Jeff Blynn (erroneously credited here as “Blyn” and fresh from his role in Brescia’s NAPOLI… LA CAMORRA SFIDA, LA CITTÀ RISPONDE [1979]) plays Salvatore, one of Don Francesco’s most reliable smugglers, who sets-up the initial meeting with Merola and Garko. Later, when Salvatore attempts to elude police, he launches his car onto a series of flatbed cars on an empty train in another elaborate bit of ‘borrowed’ stuntwork, this time lifted from Massimo Dallamano’s COLT .38 SPECIAL SQUAD (1976). As the series’ buffoon, Lucio Montanaro also returns as Don Francesco’s pudgy sidekick, who provides all of the film’s tacky one-liners (“These Turkish bazaars are so bizarre!”) and lowbrow comedy, including a brief scene of him getting overly-excited over a bunch of half-naked starlets (including Lorraine De Selle) hanging around Sabàto’s luxurious swimming pool. In a strained if amusing in-joke, Radovich and Gennarino (Marco Girondino), the film’s token scugnizzo (“street kid”), comment on a movie poster seen hanging outside a coffee shop advertising Brescia’s previous Neapolitan soap opera, LO SCUGNIZZO (1978 – which also co-starred Garko and Girondino!). “Oh, Gianni Garko—must be a good film!” remarks Garko as Radovich but, minutes later, a random passerby (director Brescia himself!), drolly questions the competence of the director! Other bit parts include brief walk-on roles for Edmund Purdom and John Karlsen as a pair of high-ranking narcotics officers; Rick Battaglia and Andrea Aureli appear as NYC mob bosses (their scenes clearly shot in Italy), and Sabriana Siani also appears as the daughter of a New York boss whose ritzy Italian-American wedding sets the stage for Don Francesco’s revenge.

 

Although released a number of times on foreign VHS videocassettes, including two English releases from the U.K. and Japan on Intermovie and Columbia, respectively, THE NEW GODFATHERS was never released in either the U.S. or Canada in an English-friendly version. A fine-looking anamorphic DVD was eventually released in Italy by Cecchi Gori in 2006, but not surprisingly, it too had no English-language audio options. Cineploit’s new all region “Blu-ray premiere” features a brand new 2K scan, which appears to be taken from the original camera negative and looks terrific. Retaining the film’s original 2.35:1 aspect ratio, detail is sharp and colours are rich, but obviously, the film’s grainy stock footage still looks ugly and drab. Thankfully, the DTS-HD 2.0 audio options are provided in German, Italian AND English and is quite robust giving precedence to all the explosions, raucous gunfire and Eduardo Alfieri’s piecemeal score, even if the dialogue sync is, for the most part, imperfect. English and German subtitles are also provided, so the best bet is to watch the film in Italian with English subtitles for the most faithful rendition, but for those that care about such things, the English audio does include several familiar English voice actors such as Richard McNamara, Gregory Snegoff and Larry Dolgin, the latter of which dubs signor Garko. 

 

Extras include an on-camera interview with writer / producer Ciro Ippolito (11m21s) conducted by Vincenzo Rossini, where he discusses the genesis of the film at PAC and how he had the idea to (quote) “pick up a lot of scenes from the action part shot in the United States” from THE SICILIAN CONNECTION and then “shoot another story and mount this on that.” Other extras include a nicely-detailed photo gallery (1m30s) of posters, locandinas, fotobustas and international video art and the film’s alternate German credit sequence, which is exactly the same save for the title card, DIE GROßE KAMPF DES SYNDIKATS (trans: “The Great Battle of the Syndicate”). Housed in a fine-looking Mediabook (available is four different variations, which also comes with a 28-page booklet with liner notes from Udo Rotenberg in German and English and a nice double-sided poster), Cineploit’s new Blu-ray of this mindlessly-enjoyable Italocrime film is yet another impressive release in their “Italian Genre Cinema” line, which fans should strongly consider adding to their library. Cineploit currently offers Cover B, Cover C or Cover D (Cover A has sold out) or order it from DiabolikDVD.

YEARS OF LEAD: FIVE CLASSIC ITALIAN CRIME THRILLERS (1973-1977)

Even as Italian crime thrillers (or polizieschi, if you prefer the Italian moniker) continue to reach a wider audience outside of Europe, most fans on this side of the Atlantic still associate the genre with the collected works of Umberto Lenzi, Enzo G. Castellari and/or Fernando Di Leo. While there’s no denying the impact of those directors’ works, a number of excellent Eurocrime pictures still remain largely unknown outside the borders of a certain sunny peninsula over on the Continent. Encompassing a wide array of subgenres, including troubled youths, terrorism, high-octane action and even a giallo-styled thriller, Arrow Video have released YEARS OF LEAD: FIVE CLASSIC ITALIAN CRIME THRILLERS (1973-1977), a staggering, beautifully-packaged 3-disc Blu-ray box set, which should definitely whet the appetite of anyone looking to branch-out into unfamiliar—but highly-rewarding—territory. 

A well-made, thought-provoking social drama, Vittorio Salerno’s SAVAGE THREE (1975) is usually regarded as a poliziesco, simply by virtue of its urban “street” setting and the inclusion of Vittorio’s big brother Enrico Maria Salerno, a distinguished actor—originally known as a leading man in sophisticated comedies—who became inseparable from the genre after his defining performance in Stefano “Steno” Vanzina’s ground-breaking THE EXECUTION SQUAD (a.k.a. FROM THE POLICE... WITH THANKS, 1971). In the city of Torino (“Turin”), Ovidio Mainardi (former Warhol stud-muffin Joe Dallesandro) and his co-workers Giacomo (Gianfranco De Grassi) and Peppe (Guido De Carli) suffer from the drudgery of the everyday rat-race. While working as a computer technician at a government-run statistics bureau, after Ovidio, curious to see what would happen, purposely overcrowds their shit-strewn cage, he observes a bunch of lab-mice as they tear each other apart (a scene censored by the BBFC for the UK BD release). Pondering whether humans would respond in the same way under similar overcrowded conditions, the presiding scientist responds confidently, “There’s always one who starts biting the others.”  After Ovidio and his pals incite a riot at a soccer match later that day, their crime-spree continues unabated, and, in one of the film’s defining moments—shot in super slow-motion—Ovidio sticks a truck driver with a screwdriver during a motoring altercation.

 

Meanwhile, inspector and ex-Flying Squad member Santagà (Enrico Maria Salerno) is assigned to the ongoing case, and he firmly believes these ‘incidents’ are not politically motivated, as his superiors would have him believe, but merely a result of ordinary people cracking under the strain and stresses of living in modern society (“We’re always under pressure. It might be the stress, the mistreatment,” he surmises). A succession of murder and sexual assault continues for much of the film’s running time, culminating with the abduction and rape of a pair of ‘upper class’ women (Carmen Scarpitta and Ada Pometti). It turns out that one of these victims was the wife of a highly-influential government official, so, at the behest of the deputy minister, the apprehensive police commissioner (Luigi Casellato), offers Santagà a deal: clean things up as quickly and quietly as possible!

 

Punctuated by a terrific progressive rock score by Franco Campanino (who also scored Dallesandro’s first foray into Italian crimeslime, Pasquale Squitieri’s superb THE CLIMBER [1975]), Vittorio Salerno’s SAVAGE THREE appears to be—on the surface, at least—yet another entry in a short-lived subgenre of mid-’70s Italo ‘youths-run-wild’ films. In spite of their boyish looks, these are not the usual spoiled rich kids with negligent parents unaware what their offspring are up too. Ovidio, Giacomo and Peppe all have regular jobs and ‘normal’ unassuming lives, but are simply bored by the drudgery of it all and looking for some ‘kicks.’ Never fully-explained or expounded upon, the jaded trio’s collective boredom may have been the primary instigator of their initial crime-spree but, in an interesting turn of events, their underlying sadistic streaks are antagonized by the aggressive environment in which they live… just like (symbolism alert!) those desperate lab-mice seen at the start of the film. 

 

Originally released in Italy as FANGO BOLLENTE (trans: “Seething Swamp”), SAVAGE THREE was barely released outside of Italy in the pre-DVD days (an English dubbed VHS tape was released on the Greek NK Video label), but it did finally garner a superb Region B Blu-ray in 2017 thanks to Camera Obscura. Arrow’s new disc features the same superior transfer, with optimally-balanced colours, strong contrasts, excellent black levels and a nice, consistent amount of natural film grain; in fact, it looks just about perfect! The DTS-HD MA mono Italian audio also sounds perfectly-balanced and clear throughout. 

 

In Rat Eat Rat (39m08s), the first featurette, ported-over from CO’s earlier release, director Vittorio Salerno and actress Martine Brochard discuss how the film came about, as well as discussing the formation of the independent production company Comma 9, which unfortunately only ever produced just this one film. Further topics of discussion includes Goffredo Lombardo’s Titanus distribution company; some of the film’s locations in and around Turin; and the casting of Joe Dallesandro (“I like his somewhat weird face!”). In The Savage One (40m56s), yet another doc ported-over from the CO BD, Severin’s David Gregory interviews Dallesandro in what is essentially a career overview, beginning with his early years working on Andy Warhol pictures, and also covering just about every other facet of Joe’s time working in Europe, including all of his polizieschi(precisely five in total). Unafraid to tell it like it is, Dallesandro even refers to his SEASON FOR ASSASSINS (Marcello Andrei, 1975) co-star Martin Balsam as a “knucklehead!” 

 

On the same disc, Mario Imperoli’s rarely-seen LIKE RABID DOGS (1977) is, like SAVAGE THREE, yet another variation of the ‘troubled youth’ (a.k.a. JD / “juvenile delinquent”) film. Following an armed robbery by a pair of hooded men at a soccer match, commissario Paolo Muzi (Jean-Pierre Sabagh) is soon on the case, but this latest robbery turns out to be connected to an ongoing spate of rampant criminality that is plaguing the city. Paolo suspects Tony (Cesare Barro) and his accomplices Rico (Luis de la Torre) and Silvia (Anna Rita Grapputo), but due to Tony’s influential father, Arrigo (Paolo Carlini), he can’t prove anything.  Despite having his hands tied, Paolo and Germana (Paola Senatore), his girlfriend and fellow poliziotta, team up in hopes of busting these sociopathic miscreants.

 

Despite the generic synopsis given above, this proves to be quite a departure from the usual Eurocrime films of the period. Director Imperoli (who also helmed the unusually nasty provincial vendetta flick CANNE MOZZE [1978], starring Antonio Sabato), chooses to explore many of the genre’s darker aspects, placing a particular emphasis on the politically-motivated upper classes, who, rather than play fair on a level playing field, simply use their financial and political clout to subvert the system to their benefit. When Arrigo, Tony’s equally-unbalanced pops, attempts to give him some much-needed advice (“The ultimate goal in life, as in a game, is victory!”), he essentially allows his son to do as he pleases so long as he gets away with it. Much like Aldo Lado’s brutally-effective thriller NIGHT TRAIN MURDERS (1975), Imperoli flips the dynamic on its head by instead having the affluent so-called ‘elites’ viciously tormenting their perceived social inferiors (i.e., those from the so-called ‘lower classes’) simply because they can, which culminates in a particularly nasty scene that looks like it stumbled in from another film altogether. LIKE RABID DOGS’ gut-punch conclusion is also particularly effective.

 

Impressively lensed in Technoscope by Romano Albani (Imperoli’s usual DP of choice), he makes great use of the format with some interesting compositions and moody lighting, which look terrific on Arrow’s new Blu-ray. Utilizing the same restoration as Camera Obscura’s 2014 Region B Blu-ray, this is another top-notch transfer, that still holds up very well after all these years. The DTS-HD MA mono Italian audio also sounds excellent, with Mario Molino’s funky Nico Fidenco-styled soundtrack sounding especially robust and full-bodied. 

 

A couple of highly worthwhile extras are included (also taken from CO’s disc), beginning with When a Murderer Dies (51m57s), an in-depth interview with the late Albani and film historian Fabio Melelli, who discuss at some length the (quote) “beloved” Imperoli and his short-but-impressive career. In It’s Not a Time for Tears (32m55s), assistant director Claudio Bernabei (a frequent collaborator of Joe D’Amato) discusses both details about the film in question and also his career in general. LIKE RABID DOGS’ no-holds-barred trailer and a much-appreciated two-track music sample from the film’s rare Italian 45rpm vinyl single are also included. 

 

The second disc starts things off with the HD debut of Massimo Dallamano’s final film, COLT 38 SPECIAL SQUAD (1976)—he died later that year as the result of a car crash at age 59—an impressive action programmer that provided the template for subsequent imitative ‘Special Squad’ actioners, such as Domenico Paolella’s STUNT SQUAD (1977), which also shared cast members Marcel Bozzuffi and Riccardo Salvino. After so memorably playing Pierre Nicoli, the relentless, cold-hearted hitman in William Friedkin’s THE FRENCH CONENCTION (1971), Bozzuffi made a string of Eurocrime appearances wherein he switched to the ‘right’—make that extreme Right!—side of the law (he eventually slipped back into criminality to play another vicious killer in Lucio Fulci’s ultraviolent CONTRABAND [1980]).

 

The city of Turin is once again the setting for COLT 38 SPECIAL SQUAD. After Inspector Vanni (Bozzuffi) kills his brother during a shootout, a criminal leader known as “The Black Angel” (Ivan Rassimov) swears revenge. In retaliation, Vanni’s wife is subsequently shot dead in full view of their juvenile son. With the District Attorney’s (Armando Brancia) permission, Vanni forms the Special Squad: four crack policemen, under his leadership, given autonomous power by their superiors. Their trademarks are driving motorcycles and—hence the title—powerful .38 Police Special handguns. Meanwhile, The Black Angel and his right-hand man Guido (Antonio Marsina) steal a shipment of dynamite and proceed to plant bombs throughout the city. Demanding a $10-million ransom in uncut diamonds, The Black Angel organizes an exchange enabling Vanni and his ‘SS’ to finally make a move.

 

Several well-choreographed, fast-paced action sequences are some of the film’s many highlights (including a car driving atop a moving train!), which proves the Special Squad are a force to be reckoned with. However, they soon begin abusing their new-found power (and the tenets of the Geneva Convention) when they employ deadly ‘dum-dum’ bullets that cause maximum internal damage to their unlucky human targets; it’s shoot first, ask questions later. As the Black Angel, Rassimov’s ice-cold character is also not without a sense of humour, albeit as dark as the wings of his celestial namesake. Using a TNT charge detonated via remote control, he disposes of a stool pigeon (Bernardino Emanueli) while the man takes a piss behind a tree. Elsewhere, one of the Angel’s underlings (Franco Garofalo) gets his fingers chopped-off by the slamming door of an accelerating getaway car. 

 

One of the many notable DVD titles from No Shame’s relatively short tenure on the market, Arrow Video’s new 2K restoration is a markedly-improved upgrade in every way; altogether sharper and more finely-detailed, with colours that truly pop, especially during the various nightclub scenes. The LPCM mono audio (included in both Italian andEnglish) really emphasizes all the screeching tires and gunshots, with Stelvio Cipriani’s propulsive score sounding especially spectacular. New wave / disco diva Grace Jones contributes two songs to the film, but no matter which language option you choose, both are—not unexpectedly!—poorly lip-synched.

 

Several worthwhile extra features are once again re-included from No Shame’s 2006 DVD, including A Special Groove for a Very Special Friend (here retitled as Always the Same Ol’ 7 Notes in the menu [25m48s]), a delightful career-spanning interview wherein late, great maestro Cipriani discusses his time working on Eurocrime films, collaborating with Grace Jones, and how he went about scoring the present title under discussion. In A Tough Guy (9m31s), editor Antonio Siciliano talks about getting his start in the industry and collaborating with much-revered director Dallamano. A video intro with Cipriani which precedes the film, its Italian theatrical trailer and a meagre image gallery round out the extras.

 

Having by then honed his directorial skills on a number of high-profile Italocrimers, director Stelvio Massi embarked on what was to be the second ‘phase’ of his prolific association with polizieschi when he helmed HIGHWAY RACER (1977), the second film on disc two. The first of no less than six actioners he made in conjunction with mighty genre icon Maurizio Merli, Massi substitutes much of the usual nastiness associated with such films, as he and scribe Aldo Capone instead channel most of the film’s energy into a wide range of increasingly risky, over-the-top autobatics, which rarely—if ever!—let up! And yes, signor Merli also appears without his trademark ’stache, which may catch some first time viewers a little off-guard.

 

Merli stars as Marco Palma, a wannabe ace wheelman with the Squadra Volonte / “Flying Squad”, a highly-trained unit of the Italian State Police whose main specialty—in this film, at least—is driving real fast. His superior officer, the legendary ex-squad car driver maresciallo Tagliaferri (Giancarlo Sbragia), is understandably growing weary of Palma’s excuses after he totals car after car. Sure enough, in yet another high-speed auto pursuit—this time involving a gang of crash-helmeted armed robbers in customized Citroëns led by the highly-respected French getaway driver Jean-Paul Dossenà (alias “il Nizzardo” / Angelo Infanti)—Palma wrecks his ‘new-and-improved’ car too, same as all the others. Taking the hot-headed Palma under his wing, he personally trains and equips him with his old hopped-up 1960 Ferrari 250 GTO and a fake ID in a ploy to infiltrate Dossenà’s seemingly uncatchable gang…

 

Human performances all-round are solid enough, but not surprisingly of superficial depth and placed strictly secondary behind their non-human (i.e., mechanical) protagonists: the cars! This really is a showcase for the talents of veteran stunt arranger extraordinaire Rémy Julienne (who passed away early into 2021 at the age of 90). At the height of his career as a stunt arranger, Julienne had provided plenty of breakneck metallic mechanized mayhem for such top Eurocrime flicks as Henri Verneuil’s THE BURGLARS (1971), Alberto de Martino’s Canadian-shot-and-set STRANGE SHADOWS IN AN EMPTY ROOM (a.k.a. BLAZING MAGNUMS [1976]) and Maurizio Lucidi’s STREET PEOPLE (1976). In HIGHWAY RACER, frenetic and at times sloppily-executed stunts endow action with a realistic tone, including a logistically-impressive sequence that has Julienne driving (or rather tumbling end over end!) down the Spanish steps outside of Rome’s Trinità dei Monti church.

 

While far from his grittiest or best poliziesco (that honour would be reserved for EMERGENCY SQUAD [1974]), the present film’s lighter tone and almost playful approach to the material clearly demonstrated that lowest-common-denominator smash’n’crash action was undeniably its prime selling point, but it also proved Massi’s versatility as a director. HIGHWAY RACER is technically most accomplished, with enough inventive camerawork (it took two cinematographers to capture Julienne’s chaotic stunts) to keep things fresh and exciting for each and every elaborate chase sequence. Given the enormous impact of Merli’s previous successes in such prime Eurocrimers as Umberto Lenzi’s THE TOUGH ONES (1976), his appearance herein is also a bit of an anomaly, as the atypically clean-shaven, youthful-looking upstart whose only interest is to become the most skilled driver in the entire police force and then nab—or perhaps just outdrive—that gentleman bandit, il Nizzardo. 

 

Outside Italy, Massi’s film probably got its biggest exposure in Japan, where it was released onto Japanese Betamax/VHS videocassette by Pony Canyon as “FERRARI FALCON” (the Anglo translation of its Japanese title). Released in 2020 as part of their long-running Italian Genre Cinema Collection, Camera Obscura’s all-region Blu-ray was yet another absolutely gorgeous release, which is thankfully preserved on Arrow’s new disc. Boasting a beautifully-detailed and colourful image, with no digital enhancement of any sort, Arrow have, unlike the earlier CO disc, seen fit to include both Italian and English LPCM Italian mono audio options. A nice added touch, indeed!

 

The featurette Faster Than a Bullet (19m43s), a superb interview with Roberto Curti, author of the indispensable Italian Crime Filmography, 1968-1980 (McFarland, 2013) has also been carried over from CO’s disc. He talks about the filmmakers’ attempts to make a film as a (quote) “detachment from the news stories”; the film’s original aborted ending when one of Julienne’s stunts didn’t quite work out; Brigadiere Armando Spatafora, the real poliziotto sprint on which Merli’s character was based; Massi’s (quote) “exciting use of the camera”; as well as a number of the film’s many cast members, including Sbarigia’s (quote) “fatherly role” and Lilli Carati’s rather nondescript part as Merli’s girlfriend, Francesca. Another brief image gallery is also included.

 

Treading much the same territory as Elio Petri’sOscar-winning INVESTIGATION OF A CITIZEN ABOVE SUSPICION (1970)—including such themes as the abuse of power and the divisive socio-economical strata of society—disc three begins with Vittorio Salerno’s remarkably tense and entertaining thriller NO, THE CASE IS HAPPILY RESOLVED (1973), which focuses primarily on the powerless: a ‘lower-class’ citizen, who, through no fault of his own, gets caught up in a murder investigation. 

 

While out fishing at Lake Bracciano just north of Rome, Fabio Santamaria (Enzo Cerusico) happens to witness the brutal murder of a woman and, in an incredibly nerve-wracking moment, merely stands there, frozen into immobility like a deer caught in the headlights, as he and the murderer make eye-contact for what seems like an eternity. Following an equally-intense drive back to Rome, the murderer in question turns out to be Eduardo Ranieri (Riccardo Cucciolla), a well-respected schoolteacher. Understandably anxious and disturbed by what he has seen, unwitting eyewitness Santamaria chooses not to go directly to the police. Instead however, unfortunately for him, Ranieri the actual culprit beats him to it, implicating Santamaria as the murderer. This fabricated accusation reduces the innocent man to a state of utter panic as he tries to cover up his tracks and stay out of reach of the long arm of the law…   

 

Right from the get-go, this is an absolutely riveting thriller, which not only takes elements from many of Alfred Hitchcock’s films (i.e., THE WRONG MAN [1956] or NORTH BY NORTHWEST [1959]), but also incorporates fundamental aspects of both the giallo and polizieschi.  Even though it does feature a hair-raising car chase from Rome’s Termini Station as Santamaria tries in vain to catch a bus through the windy streets of Rome, director Salerno is more concerned with exploring the flawed and equally-corrupt so-called ‘justice’ system with its societal profiling and the authorities’ unwavering commitment to simply have the case, as per the title, “happily resolved” by checking all the proper boxes and balancing the stats. During this time, a seasoned and highly-influential reporter, informally referred to as “don Peppino” (Enrico Maria Salerno), is also conducting his own investigation after a few questionable meetings with Ranieri, and he is convinced that everything isn’t as it might appear to be.

 

Despite the star-status of Riccardo Cucciolla, who won numerous accolades and awards for his role as anarcho-commie accused murderer Nicola Sacco in Giuliano Montaldo’s SACCO & VANZETTI (1971), it is popular actor Enzo Cerusico who carries the entire present film squarely on his shoulders, delivering an affecting performance of a depth and believability that just about outshines his fellow highly-regarded cast members. Usually relegated to playing ‘good guy’ roles, Cucciolla is also topnotch in his portrayal as the morally-conflicted and guilt-ridden murderer, who not only knows full-well that he has the upper hand, but is also continuously tempted by his affliction to murder again; it’s a wonderfully-nuanced performance filled with regret, sorrow and even all-out malevolence. Aside from the two central performances, which dominate the bulk of the film, Vittorio’s older bro Enrico Maria also adds immeasurably to the film as the “seen-it-all” ornery newshound, who, after all his years of experience at ferreting-out the truth, knows when something’s amiss. In what would typically be a stereotypical throwaway part, even French-born female lead Martine Brochard as Santamaria’s distraught wife contributes a great deal of pathos, further accentuating her husband’s ever-escalating torment, confusion and frustration.

 

Expertly-lensed by veteran DP Marcello Masciocchi, NO, THE CASE IS HAPPILY RESOLVED looks absolutely stunning on Arrow’s new disc, which is once again taken from CO’s immaculate 2016 restoration. Not only is this the long-unseen director’s cut of the film with its original—far more effective—ending (which continues to resonate long after the end-credits roll), but this transfer features excellent detail and bold, naturalistic colours, whereas the DTS-HD MA Italian mono audio likewise offers nothing to complain about. For the record, Arrow Video's disc contains the film's "happy" ending, but the film's original ambiguous ending is included as a bonus. The biggest extra is a 40-minute featurette entitled Mother Justice (40m36s), which contains interviews with director Salerno and actress Martine Brochard, who talk candidly about all sorts of terrific facts related to the film’s origins and production. The Italian theatrical trailer and a brief image gallery are also included. 

 

Arrow Video’s exhaustive set finishes off in fine style beginning with Will Webb’s Poliziotteschi: Violence and Justice in the Years of Lead (20m17s), a superb video essay about the differing Eurocrime subgenres, with a particular emphasis on the films included herein, plus a thick 60-page book featuring detailed essays from the likes of Kat Ellinger, Troy Howarth, Michael Mackenzie, Rachael Nisbet and James Oliver. This is a stunning, must-own collection, which comes highly recommended!

THE .44 SPECIALIST - BLU-RAY REVIEW

English-language export press ad-lines: “The intrigue and terror of THE THIRD MAN. The explosive violence of [DAY OF] THE CONDOR. A film you won’t easily forget.”

Under its more logical Italian release title of MARK COLPISCE ANCORA (trans: “Mark Strikes Again”), THE .44 SPECIALIST (1976) was promoted as the third (and final) entry in Stelvio Massi’s loosely-connected Marc the Narc trilogy, all of which featured former child actor and fotoromanzi heartthrob/superstar Franco Gasparri (1948-1999) as the titular rogue cop; basically a ‘prettier’ variation of Dirty Harry. In BLOOD, SWEAT AND FEAR (1975), Massi’s first and most successful film of the trilogy, Mark is described by his superiors as (quote) “a man who keeps his hair a bit too long, doesn’t give a damn about discipline and wears a gun in the pocket of his jeans, a bit like Serpico.” In what may be a possible nod to Tomas Milian’s then popular ‘Nico Giraldi’ (also heavily influenced by Serpico’s ‘unique’ look) or ‘Er Monezza’ characterizations, Mark’s ‘undercover’ appearance herein is even more noticeably disheveled with ratty clothes and far-curlier hair, but in an even more inexplicable revision, his surname is also changed from Terzi to Pasti (Patti on Italian prints), a fact which only magnifies this film’s already tenuous connection to the first two entries. So, in light of this film’s distinctive pedigree, it should come as no surprise that THE .44 SPECIALIST works well enough on its own, which turns out to be a fortuitous circumstance for first time viewers of Cineploit’s fine-looking Blu-ray, which turns out to be the first official English-friendly disc release of any Marc the Narc film. 

Set to Stelvio Cipriani’s always-enjoyable urban rhythms, an unidentified member of a passing motorcade is assassinated during the film’s opening credits, but in retaliation, the sniper (Claudio Zucchet) suffers a near-fatal wound. Meanwhile, Mark has been relegated by his superior officer Mantelli (Giampiero Albertini), to (quote) “clean up all the lay-abouts and troublemakers in the district”. Of course, he’d much rather go after the (quote) “big cheeses” heading the entire drug scene instead. After witnessing Mark’s undercover antics at a Roman piazza, German anarchists Paul Henkel (John Steiner) and Olga Kübe (Marcella Michelangeli) hire him to help their injured cohort from the opening (“Did somebody use a Howitzer?!”). However, despite Mantelli’s protestations, Mark embarks into the shadowy, double-dealing world of global terrorism…

In a plot that takes its cue from Sydney Pollack’s THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR (1975), Mark finds himself ensnared in a world he knows little about, but with the help of Interpol agents Pappadato (Andrea Aureli) and Chief Altman (John Saxon) he manages – just barely – to weave his way through this secretive world of cat-and-mouse allegiances. Co-penned by Lucio De Caro and returning scribe Dardano Sacchetti (who co-wrote the first film), an attempt is made to expound on the far-reaching and highly powerful links terrorism has with certain shady government agencies. This interesting subplot isn’t given the time to fully develop, though. As Altman, Saxon’s screen time is limited to a few key scenes (thankfully, he dubs his own lines on English language prints), but he provides the film with some of its most interesting dialogue as he sneakily moves through a number of clandestine government bureaus whose motives are never, ever made known. Even as Mark builds a trustworthy rapport with both Paul and Olga, Altman suggests they are merely two cogs in a much bigger machine, which he shrugs-off as a waste of time when he confidently remarks, “Fanatics like them are a dime a dozen! If they didn’t exist, we’d invent them!” Although entertaining just the same, the film stays well within the confines of your standard poliziesco as even Mark, rather naively, demands that these killers (quote) “should be questioned and made to talk!”

In one of the film’s standout scenes (also pinched from Pollack’s aforementioned film), Mark is almost assassinated during a botched meeting in Vienna, but thanks to (quote) “pure chance”, he is luckily spared, which once again proves that people and things can never be trusted. In his continued attempts to bust Paul and Olga, he - rather confusingly - continues to aid and abet this pair of ‘fanatics’ even as they attempt to blow-up a busload of VIP’s from an energy congress. This lands Olga in jail, and Paul, being the psycho that he is, promptly hijacks a commuter train (“From this moment on, this train is my property, ya!”), threatening to kill everyone on board if Olga isn’t released. In spite of his hokey, almost-comical German accent, Steiner is wildly over-the-top as the determined revolutionist whose fanaticism knows no bounds in his quest to (quote) “Destroy ze old way to build ze new!”

Given the film’s scant home video release history (at least for English-speaking viewers, anyway), dedicated Italocrime enthusiasts had to make do with copies from any number of European VHS videocassettes back in the day via either Holland, Greece or, if you were lucky enough to score one, a nice dub from the rare Skyline UK release. Outside of the Italian Cecchi Gori disc, Massi’s film has had even less exposure on DVD, so Cineploit’s English-friendly, all-region Blu-ray is a very welcome edition, indeed. Licensed from Minerva Pictures and sporting a new 2K scan from the original camera negative, Cineploit’s Blu-ray looks excellent, and despite some instances of (quote) “severe chemical damage”, the transfer is nicely-detailed (no DNR here!), with solid black levels and a nice naturalistic color scheme. German, Italian and English DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono tracks are included, with the Italian track being the most effective, boasting clear dialogue and subtly-nuanced background effects; the English track also sounds solid enough, but is mixed at a lower volume, while the German sounds hollow and canned. Both German and English subtitles are also provided, but for some strange reason, some Blu-ray players (or even Blu-ray drives on a computer) are unable to disable the German subtitles while playing the English version. 

A number of noteworthy and revealing extra features are also included, beginning with Mark, My Father and I (20m10s), an interview with Stelvio’s son Danilo Massi, conducted by Eugenio Ercolani. Having worked alongside his father even as a child, Danilo reminiscences warmly about his father Stelvio, admitting that it was he who (quote) “contaminated” him with his love for cinema. He goes on to talk about much of his early work as a highly-regarded DP and also discusses his hesitance to move into directing. Danilo Massi also happily discusses many of the actors who have worked for his father, including Luc Merenda, Tomas Milian (“A great soul…”), Maurizio Merli (with a particular emphasis on POLIZIOTTO SPRINT [1977], their first collaborative effort), plus Lee J. Cobb (name-brand American guest star of the first two Mark entries), and of course, the late Franco “Mark” Gasparri himself (who died tragically young); it’s a great interview filled with wonderful anecdotes and warm nostalgia, which, quite obviously, comes highly recommended. In Stelvio Cipriani Part 2 ([41m29s] Part 1 was included in Cineploit’s earlier Blu-ray of Luciano Ercoli’s KILLER COP [1975]), Mark Thompson Ashworth interviews the great maestro who enthusiastically discusses (and even demonstrates on his accompanying piano) many of his later Italocrime films, including his groundbreaking score for Stefano Vanzina’s THE EXECUTION SQUAD (1972) and the genesis of his marvelous theme for WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOUR DAUGHTERS? (1974), as well as much of his other work is also touched-upon, including the origins of the sound of a killer octopus in Ovidio Assonitis’ TENTACLES (1977), and his much-appreciated work on James Cameron’s PIRANHA II: THE SPAWNING (1981). Finally, in Iron Commissioners (16m29s), former DP and director Roberto Girometti and Danilo Massi once again talk about Stelvio Massi’s respected stature within the industry and his (quote) “capacity to move the camera, which helped give dynamism to the actors’ performances.” Girometti in particular talks about how some of Massi’s films were (much to the late director’s chagrin) “patched-up for lack of money and time”. Danilo Massi also goes into the production side of things (he served as an assistant director on a number of his father’s films), with a specific focus on his collaborations with Merli and how he considers Massi’s THE IRON COMMISSIONER (1978) the (quote) “least-exciting to make and watch.” A short split-screen restoration demonstration (4m08s) and an extensive photo gallery (7m45s), which includes much of the film’s promotional material and rare behind-the-scenes photos of Massi, conclude the extras. 

Housed in an attractive Mediabook with a nicely-illustrated 26-page booklet, it’s no surprise that most of the text is in German, but it does contain yet another excellent English-language interview with Danilo Massi conducted by the ubiquitous and ever-welcome Eugenio Ercolani. As an added bonus, a special double-sided, fold-out poster featuring the film’s Italian artwork is also included. While it’s certainly not one of Massi’s best efforts, it’s nevertheless an undemanding and enjoyable enough slice of pulp entertainment. And not only that, but Cineploit’s Blu-ray is pretty terrific, so here’s hoping the label (or some other one, perhaps) get around to licensing the first two films in this sadly-underseen trilogy. Order it from DiabolikDVD here or here.