Django

Sergio Corbucci's "Django", as well as his "The Great Silence" are two massively underrated spaghetti-westerns that co-founded the genre, along with Sergio Leone's Dollars-trilogy. Okay, this no "Once Upon a Time in the West" when it comes to atmosphere or plotting, but it is a magnificently mounted action ride with an utterly cool lead hero and an enormous body count. "Django" remained banned in several countries for a long time because of its explicit, comic-book like violence, and you'll see that this wasn't without reason, as the bad guys get slaughtered by the dozen in a good old-fashioned gunslinger way. The movie opens terrifically, with a sleazy title song and vicious images of a lonely cowboy wandering through the Southern wastelands with a coffin in tow. The man is Django and his coffin contains whatever he requires to fulfill his difficult goal: single-handedly finishing the war between the racist Major Jackson and Mexican bandidos by annihilating them all. Corbucci implements a straightforward, no-nonsense filming style with some great visuals and very creative camera angles. There are some ingenious aspects (Django's act of vengeance with molested hands) as well as some delicious clichés moments (wrestling prostitutes, extended bar fight sequences...). This film may not be a very intellectual form of entertainment, but it sure is fun and produced with a certain degree of class.

Followed by a numberless amount of sequels, rip-offs and wannabes that are hardly worth purchasing. Stick to the original and have a blast!

Sergio Corbucci is not really a great director, but if I hear his name I perk up in a genre-geek sort of way. Having seen a couple other movies by him, Navajo Joe and Il Grande Silenzio, I knew what to expect with Django, which is some of the same only (hopefully) more violent and serious and convoluted. Actually, the story in Django isn't too convoluted, just if you don't pay close attention, which is easy once or twice. It doesn't have the weird, cool energy of Grande Silenzio or the camp of Navajo Joe. But it stands on its own as a solid entry- the most well-known of all spaghetti westerns in Europe (yes, more than Leone, who was also a God there), and, well... if you watch the dubbed version from Anchor Bay video and come out unscathed, more power to you.

Franco Nero is in his iconic role as the title character (sing it with me, "Djangoooo!"), a man dragging a coffin into town and with some payback to deliver against a man named Jackson, and is actually caught up in two warring factions: a group of red-suited KKK members, and a crazy group of Mexicans, with women thrown from here to there and in-between. Django, of course, doesn't want to get involved with that, but he does, and it becomes a whole big thing not too unfamiliar to those who've seen their share of Leone pictures. In fact, this was the first in a whole franchise of Django- some official and most not, leading up to this year with Miike's amazing remake- and I could likely see this as being the best without having seen one other. It's just a guess, I could be wrong. Certainly it would be hard to top the body count, which nears 150 (or maybe it's more), if not all of the performances.

Then again, it's the look of most of the characters that becomes more and more striking as the movie goes on, including one snarling gunman with bad teeth and big gums (I forget his name), and the stone-faced Jackson himself who Django has the chance to kill early on but leaves alive (somewhat bewilderingly, then again there would be no film and less conflict for otherwise amazing comic-book gunslinger Django). What Corbucci can deliver alongside his cast of mostly bit players and hamming-uppers, is a kind of tough but loose style; he won't go to extremes like Leone with a close-up or a far-away angle, he'll just zoom and veer right into the action and get all of the bloody, crazy killings right up close and fast as possible. He's a good exploitation director and a decent stylist, with a little artistry and a warped form of professionalism. It must be fun and/or rough work being on his set.

So, for any and all genre fans, spaghetti western or just crazy-action film, you'll see why Django gets its rep, for better or for worse, usually the better. It's sometimes sloppy and occasionally not altogether well-made, but it soaks up its audience with its character as he kills quick with his huge cannon of a machine gun and has a final scene at a cemetery that is in the books somewhere as a mark of a true bad-ass. Just make sure, for the love of Pete, to try and steer clear of the English dubbing, as it's a mind-numbing experience (or just hilarious too).

Hello y'all. Just would like to add my own little critique of this movie.

Django was probably the first Euro western i'd seen outside of the familiar Leone territory, and, at first i was a little dissapointed. So i watched it again, and again. Then it dawned on me just how cool it was, having been used to the choreographed pyrotechnics of much greater films(ie the leone dollars movies etc) this was a dirty, cold,bitter little movie where nobody really comes out on top, especially the movies protagonist. Yeah, i know he returned to kill and strike again, but this one stands alongside il grande silencio and Keoma as a really good example of a genre theme that would eventually be done to death. So what if it borrows from Leone? Don't forget where he borrowed from in the first place. Anyway, i would just like to say to anyone that has not seen this movie, give it a chance. One final note: in spite of our desensetisation to violence, this is still a stomach churning endeavour, with a body count like a hot day in france, and a sadistic bent that would make peter sutcliffe run for the bathroom, Django reaches parts that only a fistfull of broken fingers can!

Django (Franco Nero – The Fifth Cord, Hitch-Hike) is a gristled man-of-action who strolls the desert dragging his coffin of hell behind him. Django sets up shop one day at the local whorehouse of a veritable ghost town set up between the two warring factions of Major Jackson (Eduardo Fajardo – Nightmare City, Oasis of the Zombies) with his red hooded militia and General Hugo (José Bódalo – Companeros) with his Mexican ex-patriots. Django's no nonsense style quickly puts him smack in the middle of the fun as secrets are revealed and sides are played against each other.

Sergio Corbucci (Super Fuzz) directs this classic Italian spaghetti western. The script (while being pretty typical of the genre) manages to make Django a classic antihero thanks for the most part to Franco Nero's portrayal. The script's lack of originality doesn't stop it from having some clever set-pieces, nasty violence and even a bit of dark humor (some of my favorite sequences: the clearing of the whorehouse "Don't Touch my coffin", the "ear" scene and the Mexican skeet shoot). The music is wonderful (topped of by a fun theme song sung by someone trying to channel Elvis). The cast of Italian regulars nail their parts with mucho gusto. Any fan of violent westerns Italiano-style should belly up to the bar and give Django's coffin of wonders a watch. But don't mess with it

At least in Europe, this other spaghetti western variation of Kurosawa's Yojimbo was probably even more influential than the film that created the genre, A Fistful of Dollars, with countless imitations, rip-offs, sequels, remakes. The title hero is again very different from traditional Western heroes, but this time he is a much more mystical (almost religious) figure than even the man with no name, and the places he goes to are even dirtier and more desperate and downtrodden than any place we would find in a Leone Western.

The impressive opening sequence shows Django dragging a coffin behind him through a muddy and featureless landscape, accompanied by Bacalov's title song (not Morricone, for a change), heading for his first battle. The coffin, his dark coat, and the mystique around him make him appear like an angel of death, invoking associations with the Red Death character in Roger Corman's Masque of the Red Death. Django is not quite as untouchable and supernatural, but the body count in his trace is comparable.