DJANGO, KILL…IF YOU LIVE SHOOT – 1967 director: Giulio Questi; starring Tomas Milian
In case some of you haven’t been paying attention, there were a ton of Django films released after the incredible success of Sergio Corbucci’s original Django. All in all, during the initial spaghetti western craze that spanned three decades, a total of twenty-four different actors have played Django, or at least have been in a film that was slapped with the name Django in the title. And that doesn’t include the rather craptacular Japanese film Sukiyaki Western Django, Quentin Tarantino’s Django Unchained, or non-westerns starring Franco Nero like Django and the Sharks.
To be honest, I haven’t watched that many of these movies. That’s because once you get past the first (Django), the last (Django Strikes Again), and Django the Bastard, you’re wading through a cesspool of inept filmmaking. Even some films, like Django, Kill—which is loved by plenty of fans and critics—left me with the feeling that someone had served me a bowl of dog shit and tried to pass it off as chocolate pudding.
In this particular entry of the film franchise that isn’t really a franchise, it’s Tomas Milian that has the dubious honor of being “Django.” After stealing a shipment of gold, Django (or “The Stranger” as he’s called throughout the film), is betrayed by his gang, and left for dead in the desert. He’s rescued and nursed back to health by a pair of Native Americans. Armed with a gun full of gold bullets, Django tracks down his former gang with the hope of issuing some serious payback, but wouldn’t ya know he’s too late—the local vigilantes have killed the gang, and taken the money. Enter Zorro, our film’s EHIW (Evil Homosexual In White), who wants the gold for his own twisted reasons. Zorro and his gang of light-in-the-loafers caballeros (you gotta see these guys to believe them) kidnap the son of some guy who has the gold; but when pops won’t pay the ransom, they pull a little choo-choo action and run a train on sonny’s bung hole. After that, the kid kills himself, there is showdown, and all the bad people die.
The only western from director Giulio Questi, Django, Kill is loved by a lot of people, and I can’t for the life of me understand why. I figure either I saw a different version of this weird mess, or I’m simply too stupid to appreciate this as a work of art, or all the people who like it don’t know shit. But what I do know is that if there was ever a spaghetti western that could be called pretentious, then this is it. And I also know that this stinker bored me out of my skull—twice. That’s right, I tried watching it a second time, and it was even worse. Nice to look at…for about the first thirty minutes, then it all over-stays its welcome.
A FEW DOLLARS FOR DJANGO – 1966 director: Leon Kilmovsky; starring: Anthony Steffen
It should come as no great surprise that there is no character named Django in this movie, which is just one of the many problems with this in-name-only sequel that typifies much of what’s wrong with most of the various films with the name Django in the title. This particular film stars Anthony Steffen (Django the Bastard) as a bounty hunter named Reagan, who is looking for a man that was part of a gang of outlaws. His hunt takes him to Montana, where men are men and sheep are afraid…oops…I mean where his prey is hiding. Only Django’s prey, or rather Reagan’s prey, might not be his prey, but rather an identical twin. All of this is going on during the middle of a land war between ranchers and farmers, with the outlaw/twin brother caught in the middle. Django/Reagan, falls for the niece of the man he is hunting; but she may actually be his daughter, if he is not really his twin brother, but rather himself. Confused? Try watching this crap in fast-forward, which is the only way to avoid being bored to death, because as nonsensical as this movie may be, it also moves at a deathly slow pace. Really, don’t even bother watching this boring mess—it has little appeal, and even less quality violence. A Few Dollars for Django isn’t even worth a few pennies.
DJANGO KILLS SILENTLY – 1968 director: Massimo Pupillo (a.k.a. Max Hunter); starring George Eastman
Originality was never one of the stronger points of the spaghetti western genre. In fact, there’s only about three plots in the whole genre—nine if you use various combinations of the initial three. The better films in the genre used creativity to make the worn out stories seem new and exciting. When there was no creativity involved, you were stuck with crap like this—just another lame variation on the MSSVF (Mysterious Stranger Seeking Vengeance Film)—which finds George Eastman as the Django-ish gunslinger going against a murderous gang. Eastman (a.k.a. Luigi Montefiori) was a popular leading man, and starred in more than a dozen spaghetti westerns, including Django Shoots First, Django the Last Killer, and Viva Django. Also released as Django Kills Softly, this is one of the most boring, and technically inept films I’ve ever endured. In fact, Django Bores Mercilessly is a more appropriate title.