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.

BAMF Classic Film Reviews – DJANGO’S Big Rip-Off Triple Feature

by | Aug 19, 2026 | News & Updates

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. 

BAMF Classic Film Reviews – NI@@ER LOVER

by | Aug 18, 2026 | News & Updates

1973 (Tom a.k.a. The Bad Bunch a.k.a. The Brothers) director: Greydon Clark; starring: Greydon Clark, Tom Johnigarn, Aldo Ray, Jock Mahoney

Released under several different titles, one of the advertising campaigns for Ni@@er Lover proudly proclaimed, “The movie they tried to stop!” And while that might sound like bragging to some folks, I’m hear to tell you that it’s more of a warning. The directorial debut of Greydon Clark, a man whose filmmaking skills could be called “amusingly remedial,” Ni@@er Lover is bargain basement exploitation cinema at its most craptacular. To his credit, Clark did become a better director, but that doesn’t stop this piece of shit from being…well…a piece of shit. We’re talking about the same director who would go on to make Black Shampoo, which is a really bad film, until you compare it to Ni@@er Lover, and suddenly it seems like the work of cinematic genius. But this is about Ni@@er Lover, not Black Shampoo, so let’s get down what needs getting down to.

Clark stars as Jim, a Vietnam veteran, whose best friend was killed in the war. Problems arise when Jim goes to deliver a letter to his friend’s father. Did I mention the Jim’s dead friend was Black? This is a crucial plot point, because it means our hero must venture into the ghetto to deliver the message to dear old dad. Unfortunately, his dead friend’s brother, Tom – who now goes by the Makimba (Tom Johnigarn), because “Tom was my slave name,” has a honky-hating chip on his shoulder, and decides he needs to kill this no good whitey. There’s a bit more to Makimba’s decision to kill Jim – he thinks the evil cracker is working for a pair of racist cops (Aldo Ray and Jock Mahoney), who take pleasure in beating up on righteous soul brothers. Makimba also blames the death of his father on Jim, even though Makimba killed the old man with his own hands. But, you see, Makimba is blinded by hate, which is what Clark is really trying to explore as a filmmaker. The problem, of course, is that not only is the message lost amidst all the exploitation trappings of sex and violence, it is also lost in the mire of an abysmal script that is as racist as it is poorly written – which is to say that it is really fuckin’ racist, because it is also really poorly fuckin’ written. There’s actually a bit more to the film – something to do with Jim’s inability to commit to his girlfriend, while screwing some dope-smoking hippie chick on the side – but that’s as poorly crafted as the rest of this garbage.

There’s no getting around the fact that no matter which title this film was released under, be it Ni@@er Lover, Tom, or The Bad Bunch, this movie is bad on just about every level you can imagine. Everything from the writing to the direction to the acting is just plain awful. Clark tries to trick the audience with enough sex and nudity to keep you from noticing how bad this everything is, but honestly, every single scene could feature the entire cast butt-ass nekkid, and you’d still be distracted by the ineptitude with which this shit has been cobbled together.

The one good thing I’ll say about Ni@@er Lover is that I looooves me the opening song, written by Sheldon Lee.
“Hey honky mother, where you go?/Who you lookin’ for
We don’t want your kind ‘round here/ Knockin’ at our door
Honky mother, no soul brother/ Don’t waste your helpin’ hand
Honky mother, ni@@er lover/ Ripped off by the man
Don’t be askin’ questions/ This street’s a dead end
One way or another, you’re a dead honky mother/ Just like your ni@@er friend
Hey honky mother, jive sucker/ Black and white don’t mix
Honky mother, ni@@er lover/ Good deeds just for kicks”