Velocidade, Caminho da Morte

Uneven and overlong but generally enjoyable thriller with tongue firmly in cheek, an engaging Hitchcockian premise, and plenty of action and stunts (as befits the rather misleading international title). Popular "Euro Cult" star Giuliano Gemma is a racing-car champ who suddenly finds himself embroiled in a murder case while at the same time pursued by thugs (from two different factions!) in search of a drug consignment; regular starlet Susan Scott (the director's wife) appears all-too-briefly as Gemma's shady lover and the murder victim involved.

Thankfully, the plot moves along at a fairly brisk pace – the star is mysteriously aided in breaking jail and scours London for his missing car (where the drugs are stashed); his long-suffering stuttering mechanic gets beaten up for helping him, while Gemma hides out in the mansion of an old friend (where he meets a lovely ingénue with her own speech impediment). Meanwhile, it transpires that the insurance man who had offered his services not only was in cahoots with Scott but is behind the whole thing; when the woman tried to double-cross him by selling the drugs to a Greek competitor, he had her killed and framed Gemma for it!

What hampers the film is its gratuitous depiction of a number of gay stereotypes; as I said, however, the action sequences deliver the goods (so much so that stunt co-ordinator Remy Julienne gets his own prominent credit in the titles) – best of all, perhaps, is the amazing explosion inside a greenhouse from which Gemma emerges miraculously unscathed.

London-based hi-jinks in a mix of comedy and violence and bumming smokes from people.

Guiliano Gemma plays Rudi Patti, the world's best racing driver or something. He's just survived a crash and while he's tasked sidekick mechanic Venantino Venantini to fix it, he's off at his girlfriend Susan Scott's getting 'calmed down'. Gemma's a bit red blooded however, and needs to be serviced himself a further three times before he drifts off to sleep (I did laugh when Susan Scott blew a smoke ring at his crotch and he mutters 'bulls eye').

As this is somehow still the swinging sixties even though it's 1973, Gemma wakes up to find himself in the middle of a party full of strangers. Someone drugs his drink and an extremely camp fellow driving a pink Volkswagen drives him home. When he wakes up, he finds his car missing, his memory missing, and the cops waiting to ask him why the girl he was sleeping with has been murdered. Maybe it's got something to do with Gemma accidentally mixing up his identically coloured suitcase with Scott's when he picked her up from the airport?

Gemma gets thrown in jail to be abused by Nello Pazzafini while a rich businessman who's always pestering him to work for him tries to spring him, leading to some mysterious figures actually springing Gemma from jail. This leads to an on-the-run Gemma trying to clear his name, find his car, and of course bed a few ladies along the way.

There's a lot of comedy in this one, mainly from Gemma, Venantini as the horny mechanic, and the ultra-campy VCW driver. It's not too forced like some of those Spaghetti Westerns from the same era, and it's balanced out strangely by murder, savage beatings, and a really top notch car chase at the end. Plus, both Gemma and Vanantini have charm in spades and I do find that if anyone can carry these more lightweight films, it's Gemma (see Sky full of Stars for a Roof and Ben and Charlies for other examples).

The London setting works well too, and I find that Luciano Ercoli always seems to leave his mark on whatever genre he's working on, even if i'm not quite sure what the mark is.

Oh, and Gemma goes around the film tapping ciggies off everyone.