BAMF Classic Film Reviews – The Films of Matt Cimber, Part 1 (THE BLACK SIX)

by | Sep 8, 2026 | News & Updates

THE BLACK SIX 1974, starring: Gene Washington, Carl Eller, Lem Barney, Mercury Morris, Willie Lanier, Mean Joe Greene

On paper, it must’ve seemed like a great idea—take two popular film genres (blaxploitation and outlaw biker), mash ‘em together, and then throw in a cast of six NFL players, all ready to kick whitey’s ass. There’s no way this combination of elements, seemingly blessed by the gods of exploitation cinema, could not have seemed like a sure hit. And to be clear, the definition of “sure hit” must be contextualized within the framework of an era in American film when low budget, independently produced features often were financed from questionable revenue sources often looking to launder money from ill-gotten gains. This is not to say that THE BLACK SIX was financed with money from tax-shelter-seeking investors or Mafia dons looking to wash their dirty money, because that’s not the case. No, THE BLACK SIX is merely one of the most potentially brilliant blaxploitation films of all time, produced under a series of quality-limiting factors, which sadly resulted in the film’s inability to become the work of genius it could have been.

THE BLACK SIX starts with the violent murder of high school student Eddie Daniels (Robert Howard), who is killed by a gang of redneck bikers that aren’t too happy that a young black man is consorting with a white girl. Word of Eddie’s death reaches his older brother Bubba (Gene Washington), a disillusion veteran of the war in Vietnam, who has not been home in years. Bubba has taken to a nomadic life of tooling around the country with five of his fellow vets, who round out this war-weary motorcycle gang. Bubba and his crew have seen enough violence in the ‘Nam, and they would love to leave the killing behind them. Despite the threat of the racist bikers that killed Eddie, however, Bubba and his friends— Junior Bro Williams (Carl Eller), Frenchy LaBoise (Lem Barney), Bookie Garrett (Mercury Morris), Tommy Bunka (Willie Lanier), and Kevin Washington (“Mean” Joe Greene)—decide something must be done. The murder of Eddie demands either justice or revenge—or both—and the Black Six are just the guys to dispense fistfuls of each.   

The brainchild of writer-producer-director Matt Cimber, THE BLACK SIX is a shining example of everything that is both right and wrong about the blaxploitation films of the 1970s. It is an earnest attempt at making an exploitation movie with seems to have something to say—though it’s not clear exactly what that something is. With Cimber’s story, inspired by Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s poem “The Charge of the Light Brigade,” and a screenplay by Mikel Angel (a.k.a. George Theakos), THE BLACK SIX holds the promise of weighing in on some heavy subjects. First, there’s the murder of Eddie. To be clear, the killing of Eddie is a modern-day lynching. He is murdered because he did not “know” his place, recalling the real life slayings of countless other African Americans, whose crimes were often nothing more than looking at a white woman. Then there is the commentary on returning war vets incapable of fitting back in with mainstream American society. And finally, there is the message of justice for the black man in America. All of this is hinted at, but never fully explored, making it unclear if THE BLACK SIX is actually trying to say something. If there is in fact a message, it is largely lost under the crushing weight of a poorly written script, a cast of non-actors, and half-ass production values, all brought together on a shoe-string budget. But as any true fan of exploitation films can tell you, the shortcomings and ineptitudes that don’t kill certain movies, only makes them better. Such is the case of THE BLACK SIX.

With two of the biggest blaxploitation stars being Jim Brown and Fred Williamson—both ex-NFL players—it must have seemed like a stroke of pure genius to cast a film with six NFL players. Unfortunately, even the combined strength of the Washington, Eller, Barney, Morris, Lanier, and Greene is barely enough to carry THE BLACK SIX. This is not meant to dismiss the acting of the main cast, because it isn’t really their fault. Though Brown and Williamson were the biggest stars to come out of professional football, they weren’t alone. Bernie Casey (HIT MAN) was a professional ball player, as was Tony King (GORDON’S WAR), and Carl Weathers, who would go on to stardom in ROCKY, after a string of supporting roles in movies like FRIDAY FOSTER and BUCKTOWN. There was also Tim Brown and Roy Jefferson, who starred in lesser-known blaxploitation entries BLACK HEAT and BROTHERHOOD OF DEATH, respectively. It is clear that the biggest problem with THE BLACK SIX is not the limited acting chops of the cast, but the writing, direction, and overall production of the film.   

With the deck stacked against THE BLACK SIX, it is any wonder that the film works as well as it does. And to be perfectly honest, there are moments to be found in this film that could almost be confused with cinematic brilliance. In one standout scene, the black bikers try to order ham sandwiches and Pabst Blue Ribbon from a bar, only to be denied service by the racist owner. Left with little choice, the gang does what anyone would do in this situation—they literally tear the place down, while the owner screams, “Help, help, the niggers are tearin’ down my bar!”

It’s moments like this—crafted with all the quality and attention to acting and direction found in porn from the same era—that gives THE BLACK SIX its oddball charm. And if the film simply had more scenes like this one, it would be a priceless gem. That’s not to say this is a good film, because it really isn’t, although it is better than so many other genre entries. It could be argued that whatever redeeming qualities there are to be found in THE BLACK SIX comes from it the fact that when it comes to blaxploitation flicks the bar is set ridiculously low. For all of its shortcomings, THE BLACK SIX will never be as bad as SPEEDING UP TIME, or THE GUY FROM HARLEM. Truth be told, however, it’s not the comparison to the gutbucket quality of lesser Z-grade black action films that gives THE BLACK SIX whatever quirky charm it has. No, for lack of any other better description, this is a film that simply refuses to be as terrible as it should be. Other films, like BLACKENSTEIN and VELVET SMOOTH, give up the ghost without even trying—as if merely aspiring to be entertaining is too much work. Despite everything working against it, however, THE BLACK SIX never stops trying to entertain, even when it is terrible. 

BAMF Classic Film Reviews – NAVAJO JOE

by | Sep 3, 2026 | News & Updates

1966 director: Sergio Corbucci; starring: Burt Reynolds

Sergio Corbucci directed four films in 1966. That’s right, I said, “Sergio Corbucci directed four films in 1966.” Three of those films were westerns, one of which was the change-the-world-for-the-better Django. The second western of 1966 was Johnny Oro, and the third was Navajo Joe (originally titled A Dollar a Head).

Burt Reynolds stars as Joe, a Navajo warrior out for revenge when a gang of sadistic outlaws slaughters his woman and his tribe. The gang, led by the ridiculously nefarious Duncan (Aldo Sambrell), a half-breed with hatred for the entire human race coursing through his veins, has been butchering Indians for their scalps, which are then sold for a dollar each (hence the original title of the movie). This, of course, leads Duncan and his men to the bad side of Joe, who begins systematically hunting the evil bastards. When Duncan and his men make plans to rob a train headed for the peace-loving town of Esperanza, Joe manages to thwart their plan. From there, Joe convinces the townspeople to pay him a bounty for Duncan and his gang—one dollar from each person in town, for every outlaw Joe scalps—which leads to an inevitable massacre of not-so epic proportions.

Sergio Leone had struck gold when he recruited American television star Clint Eastwood to star in A Fistful of Dollars. Eastwood was the star of Rawhide, and was looking to make a transition to film. Because of the tremendous success of Leone and Eastwood’s pairing, other Italian filmmakers tried to recapture the magic with films like Navajo Joe. At the time, trying to recreate the miracle of Eastwood must have seemed like a no-brainer for Reynolds, a television actor and stuntman, best known for his recurring role on the popular series Gunsmoke. Unfortunately, Reynolds was working with a director who had made one ground-breaking western, but still had yet to find his vision, in a movie that was destined to be mediocre at best.

The key to truly appreciating and understanding Navajo Joe is appreciating and understanding the spaghetti western genre. By and large, these were films that were put together very quickly, with little regard for quality or story. The best of the genre are the ones with compelling stories, told with distinct visual style, in a manner that makes sense to people outside the working class audiences of southern Italy. These films are few and far between. After the truly good films, there comes the films that are just plain okay—at least within the context of other spaghetti westerns. That is to say that these are the films that aren’t nearly as bad as the vast majority of genre entries, but they certainly don’t stand up to much discerning scrutiny outside of the genre. Navajo Joe is one of these films. It is a better-than-average spaghetti western, but it certainly is not one of Corbucci’s better films, nor is it really all that good (unless you’re comparing it to something ridiculously bad like Django Kills Silently).

The problems with Navajo Joe are plenty, and typical of the genre. First and foremost is a script that is just plain bad. There’s no getting around it, or making excuses for it—the script is simply craptastic. But making matters worse is Reynolds’s performance, which registers almost no charisma whatsoever. Reynolds looks like the last thing he wants to do is be starring in some Italian-produced film being shot in Spain, in which he stars as a murderous Indian. And that lack of enthusiasm shows during the thankfully few times he opens his mouth to deliver the already banal and lackluster dialog. Reynolds has gone on to say that this was the worst film of his career, which clearly means he’s never watched Stroker Ace.

Where Navajo Joe succeeds is in the visual flair of Corbucci’s direction. Again, this is far from his best film, but he is clearly laying the groundwork and developing the style that would make films like Django (which again, was made the same year as Navajo Joe) and Companeros among the very best of the genre. Cinematographer Silvano Ippoliti also shot Corbucci’s The Great Silence, and it is easy to see the chemistry between the two during the scenes that actually work.

You can also see early signs of some of the recurring themes that pop up in his films, including nontraditional protagonists—in addition to Joe, the film’s other “heroes” include an aging musician and his show girl companions. This is also where some of the director’s more populist themes start to come to the forefront of the story, as the film deals with racism and injustice with all the subtlety of a Gatling gun enema. And of course, there is Corbucci’s fondness for torturing his heroes, often to the point of near death, only to resurrect them in time to vanquish evil.

Ennio Morricone, who composed the scores for close to 40 spaghetti westerns, including all of Leone’s and several of Corbucci’s better films, provides one of his most distinctive and memorable soundtracks with Navajo Joe, and offers the best overall reason to watch the movie. Not a great film by any stretch of the imagination, Navajo Joe is a movie that will appeal to true fans of the genre. But anyone looking for a film that can be considered “good” in the more traditional sense of the word, will be better off watching Corbucci’s Companeros, The Great Silence, or Django, all of which are infinitely better films.