Vendredi sanguinaire

Relentlessly tough and mean-spirited bank robbery drama is straightforwardly made as a sleazy actioner, populated throughout with disagreeable characters, but actually is not any much more than that (despite having gained a certain cult status).

Womansing thug (Harmstorf) is sprung from the courthouse by two accomplices, then sets about planning the big heist of a local bank, equipped with a cache of high-powered weapons he's acquired from an American army outpost. Together with his faithful protégé (Macchia), who reluctantly on-boards his young girlfriend (Bohm) and her AWOL brother (August), the quartet bumble their way through the supposedly full-proof plan that aims to deliver them a cool million in cash and a new life in Australia. Predictably, things deteriorate quickly at every turn.

Harmstorf struts around in tight leather trousers, dropping C-bombs and picking fights he never wins with confidence and virility, an utterly repugnant and degenerate character. His internal adversary, the more even-tempered August character proves to be impotent to both the affections of one of the hostages, and to Harmstorf's increasing lunacy, remaining compliant in the hope of protecting his sister (Bohm) from harm. Generally the acting seemed pretty committed, although at times the atrocious dubbing makes it a mockery.

Paints a fairly miserable picture of working class Munich, often vulgar and violent, yet strangely engaging. The pitiful attempts by the gang to execute their plan, the constant set-backs, and Harmstorf's unbending belief that they'll all be free and filthy rich in spite of the escalating odds is worthy of the deepest sympathy. The climax was a bit disappointing but remained consistent with the overall tone, and while the jazz-pop soundtrack and dubbing will annoy some viewers, if you're not too picky, you might enjoy this quirky Bavarian bank robber flick.

If you consider the fact that the Italians, back in the seventies, were champions in the eurocrime exploitation genre (poliziotto), than it's no wonder they would have a go at it in other countries as well. Cineproduzione Daunia 70 (from Caliber 9) tried it in Germany with actor/director Rolf Olsen. He made the crime film Wenn es nacht wird auf der Reeperbahn in 1967, and the prostitution drama Der Pfarrer von St. Pauli in 1970, which are both quite good, so you understand why he wrote and directed it.

Bloody Friday is a more German version of the stylistic Italian poliziotto. It is tougher, more direct and also more over the top, I mean, it is sometimes TOO SILLY. The escape of Heinz Klett (great acting by Raimund Harmstorf by the way) on itself might be believable, but why would Heidi incriminate herself suddenly for her boyfriend Luigi, or would her brother do just the same for her? Just robbing a bank with a maniac, what can go wrong?

The heart of the film is this violent character Heinz. He is the cause of everything. How he bluntly accepts these amateurs for nothing less than a bank robbery, that's typical Heinz. He is like a caricature of a man, aggressive, sexist, opportunist and over confident. People who die just deserve it because they are weak, in his opinion.

Bloody Friday might look terrible at some point, but this film isn't as bad as it looks. It actually brings some surprising social undertones to the genre, which are usually lacking in poliziotteschi. The desperation from the other robbers give the film an humanistic context. Heidi and Luigi want to escape from their shitty jobs, while the brother is a deserter. It is also (very loosely) based on a real story, as Germany had to endure a lot of violence in this period – terrorism from extreme left wing organizations and violent bank robberies, not only by professionals, but also by amateurs, like in this film. I rate it 7/10.

Excitingly shot against the undeniably picturesque backdrop of Bavaria, Germany, Rolf Olsen's schnapps-sharp 70s shoot 'em up, 'Blutiger Freitag (1972) (aka) 'Bloody Friday' is a bullet-shredded, blazingly brutal, Euro-crime classic! This bona fide, bloody-knuckled German icon of cult Grindhouse cinema benefits greatly from red-headed rapscallion, Raimund Harmstorf's super-masculine charisma, its appealing Munich exteriors, and suitably energized score. Olsen's grimy, full-throttle exploitation epic,'Blutiger Freitag' is certainly no less skull-rattling an experience than equally flint-edged poliziotteschi classics, 'Bloody Payroll', 'Violent Naples', 'Almost Human', and Michael Apted's vastly underappreciated Brit-crime masterpiece, 'The Squeeze'.

With its unleavened thuggery, exhilaratingly cavalier vehicular carnage, close quarters douchbaggery, and an unfiltered, genuinely terrifying performance from the muscular, enigmatic actor, Raimund Harmstorf; a force of corrupted nature, his bellicose, hugely misogynist misfit, Klett frequently indulges in bloody bouts of splenetic, bone-breaking violence; all the while cutting a darkly erotic dash in bespoke grungy, 1970s turtleneck sweater'd, leather-jacketed chic! 'Blutiger Freitag' is one of those rare 70s actioners that more than lives up to the fanboy hype, all its destructive Alpha energies resolutely undimmed! Throw in a sinuous crime-funk score from the estimable composer, Francesco 'New York Ripper' De Masi, and you have an all-time, Top Ten-list making, gun-happy Goliath of German grindhouse madness that deliriously delivers bravura, hard-boiled 70s skulduggery unlike any other German film from then, or now. Prost!!!!

In this hard-boiled German-Italian production, Heinz Klett (Raimund Harmstorf), an anarchistic, mad-dog criminal, orchestrates a tricky escape from a Munich courthouse, right out from under the noses of police guards. With his gang -- Luigi (Gianni Macchia), Army deserter Christian (Amadeus August), and Christian's pregnant sister, Helen (Christine Böhm) -- Heinz next plans to rob the Deutsche Finanzbank so he can escape Germany and retire.

The heist is a bungled affair, as there isn't much money in the vault. But the robbers take ten hostages, including the heiress to a supermarket empire, and capitalize on the situation by demanding a million dollars in ransom and various modes of transportation out of the country. The police must contend with both the robbers and citizens who try to take over the investigation at every turn. In a marked contrast to how an American action film might depict a similar crisis, the cautious German constabulary readily accedes to all of Heinz's demands.

When Heinz and company receive the ransom money, they hijack a few of the hostages, including the heiress and a lesbian businesswoman who isn't impressed by Heinz's macho posturing. They get sidetracked to a country cabin, where the robbers' loyalties deteriorate. When a sympathetic Christian helps the heiress escape, she tips off the cops. Heinz rapes and murders the lesbian, while Luigi dies from an accidental gunshot wound. The cops surround the cabin and gun down Heinz, Christian, and Helen.

BLOODY FRIDAY is remarkable for not glamorizing its criminal protagonists, which was not the norm for crime movies of the late 60s and early 70s. It is only when the robbers are finally ambushed that director Rolf Olsen's staging makes a play for sympathy -- be they misguided youth or misunderstood human trash, did they deserve to die? Well, yes.

Olsen, who was more comfortable dabbling in lightweight sex films and mondo's, crams enough incident into the plot to keep our interest. The robbers' heist and subsequent flight from justice recalls every cliche in the book, but some scenes are remarkable -- the suspenseful escape from the courthouse; a toddler carrying a hand grenade outside the bank as if it were a toy; the massacre of the protagonists (equipped with extra large blood squibs); and a remarkably unpleasant rape scene, which is superimposed over slaughterhouse and, if you watch closely, hardcore sex footage.

Most of the cast underplays, which makes Harmstorf's intense performance as Heinz seem better than it is. However, his "Sea Wolf" is amusingly trashy, that of a cigar-chomping, machine gun wielding psychotic.

For those with a background in the social climate of 1972 Germany, one can discern the film's political subtext, with pointed references to Baader-Meinhof and the climate of social malaise that motivates the desperate thieves, as well as the ease with which they nab guns and start terrorizing the upper-class establishment.