SABATA: Blu-ray (United Artists 1969) Kino Lorber
With its
bizarre hodge-podge of sideshow reprobates, including an gymnastic Indian mute; slovenly Spaniard/ex-Civil War veteran, the latter espousing piteous platitudes
while philosophizing the futilities of life; a ragamuffin, banjo-toting
gunslinger in hiding; its loopy post-sync and obviously dubbed dialogue,
ultra-violence for violence sake, and, a star presence in Lee Van Cleef,
leering like a child molester from under his wide-brimmed black sombrero (also
appropriately sheathed in a heavy black duster), director, Gianfranco Parolini’s
Sabata (1969) definitely has its…uh…‘charm’; Marcello Giombini’s
infectious pop-chart topping, ‘Ehi amico...
c'è Sabata, hai chiuso!’ immediately infiltrating the consciousness and the
eardrum like a bad nightmare.
Cleef is our
heroic anti-hero, a mysterious ‘man with
one name,’ newly arrived in Daugherty; an Arizona-esque parched backwater presided
over by Franco Ressel’s effete aristocrat, Stengel, who considers himself an
intellectual superior (he’s even seen reading Thomas Dew’s Inequality is the Basis of Society and taking its precepts to
heart); cold-bloodedly killing the last of his own bank robbers, Oswald (Robert
Hundar) merely to prove a point. One can definitely see the imprint and influences
of Sergio Leone stamped all over this spaghetti western; Parolini (who
coauthored the screenplay with Renato Izzo) transforming this otherwise harsh
and sparsely populated rural community into a riveting textbook cliché of every
western parable you’ve seen since; Tarantino’s Django (2012) the most recent and transparent of the lot.
Sabata hails from a period when the sermonizing Hollywood
western yielded to this more gutsy/gritty foreign derivative, barely driven by
plot; rather holding the audiences’ attention on the sheer force of its
cleverly staged brutalities. The movie begins and ends in bloodshed and
betrayal (with a nod – okay, an homage…okay:
a rip off – of John Huston’s Treasure of
the Sierra Madre 1948); Cleef’s stoic Sabata always five steps ahead of the
criminal element and managing to discredit any and all who attempt, in vain, to
destroy him.
Parolini
wastes no time setting up his thrill-a-minute roller coaster ride; a daring
bank robbery staged one windswept, dark and stormy night. On the other end of
town rides a solitary stranger up to the saloon. He confronts the gambling
house for cheating an old codger out of his life’s savings by blasting the
house’s loaded dice off the soft green felt of a crap table with his
mini-revolver (a trick pistol that also shoots bullets from its grip), then by
humiliating its discontented keeper, Ferguson (Antonio Gradoli, billed as Anthony
Gradwell); shooting a chair leg out from under him, causing Fergie to do a face
plant in his bowl of guacamole. Mmmm….yummy!
Town
prostitute, Jane (Linda Veras) looks on adoringly as Sabata flings a nickel
from across the room into the player piano to lighten the mood. Who is this
aging superman, come to call on their den of iniquity? Who, indeed? Only Banjo
(William Berger – sporting a disastrous mop of Raggety-Ann pumpkin orange and
toting his banjo - actually a shotgun) seems mildly amused. Banjo and Jane are
lovers. A jaded hooker just naïve enough to think she’s found Mr. Right in a
guy who can’t stop strumming on his ego long enough to put his hands elsewhere
on her instrument. Hmmm…and just one of the inconsistencies never fully
addressed in the movie.
Ditto for
Sabata somehow getting his hands on a gramophone that can record a perfect
facsimile of his voice to fool Stengel in the dark of the night. Yeah, okay. I
get it. Sabata is not a film you
watch for content or even accuracy, except to be mildly amused by its bad
attempts at cleverness. There’s a definite history between our cloaked
anit-hero and this epicene musician, whose pant legs are draped in streams of
sleigh bells that jingle-jangle-jingle as he saunters merrily along. And Banjo,
who seems to spend more time shooting his wad than his rifle, delights in
taunting Sabata – their tenuous tolerance of one another predicated on an
unspoken truth never fully disclosed in this movie.
There’s a
jealous rivalry brewing between these two peacocks with a faint whiff of
homoeroticism; the old John Ford solitary man of the old west taking on an
unexpected sexual charge and mutual attraction; particularly after Sabata
befriends the portly and disenchanted alcoholic, Carrincha (Ignazio Spalla as
Pedro Sanchez) who spits on the memory of his days as a decorated cavalryman in
the U.S. army and whose best friend is Indio (Aldo Canti as Nick Jordan) a
tawny, buff, mute Indian (think Tonto with muscles) who spends the bulk of our
story in an atrociously bad Navajo wig, slathered in body oil, and, wearing a
single, body-hugging costume to show off his most obvious physical assets as he
performs some mind-boggling acrobatic leaps from tall buildings (with the aid
of, not too successfully, concealed trampolines).
As if to
punctuate some slavish Freudian subtext about manly men versus ‘the fags’ - Sabata’s villains are a dandified bunch,
decidedly past their prime. Our main evildoer, Stengel is a prissy, steely-eyed
intellectual; book-learned but sexually frustrated, sporting lavender
waistcoats, frilly dress shirts and far too much mascara. He isn’t scary; just
mean and a boring dresser. His compatriots in crime are the portly and
baby-faced, Judge O’Hara (Gianni Rizzo) who looks as though he sweats Crisco
like a Christmas ham from every pore at the very sight of Sabata. There’s also the
aforementioned Ferguson; a stout saloon keeper who would prefer to remain the
trio’s silent partner in this ominously bad plan to steal local money to
finance their own purchase of some choice Texas land where the Union Pacific
will be coming through. Sabata has his hands full with these cutthroats who
fancy themselves scheming brutes, though actually are more ‘fancy’ than they
care to admit.
Our story
begins with the Virginia Brothers – a pair of funambulists who, along with
Oswald and a motley brood of Stengel’s mindless henchmen, burst into the local
bank during a violent thunderstorm and promptly assassinate the small garrison
of Union soldiers hired to guard its considerable $100,000 payroll. Meanwhile, at
a nearby saloon the mysterious Sabata quietly observes as the house attempts to
take advantage of an old coot who is about to lose everything in a loaded game
of craps. Sabata interrupts the game with his double-action trick pistol, winning
back the man’s losses with his own set of dice. Is this Parolini setting up
Sabata as a modern day Robin Hood? Perhaps, but with a decidedly sadistic
streak, as Sabata takes great pleasure in shooting the chair leg out from under
Ferguson, who makes the feeblest attempt to intervene. Next, we meet Carrincha,
tossed on his rear for being unable to pay for his drinks; Sabata covering the
debt and inviting him to stay for another round. Carrincha is a fiery drama
queen; a rich parody of the artful dodger who quickly becomes Sabata’s
entrusted sidekick. We’re also introduced to Indio – Carrincha’s sidekick; a
brawny savage, performing some mesmerizing acrobatics this side of Barnum &
Bailey.
Director, Parolini
delights in offering us the implausible heist first – all show, and needlessly
theatrical; the robbers laying waste to the Union soldiers in their systematic
annihilation, rails right up the front stoop and then sliding the heavy safe on
castors out the front door into a waiting wagon. Really? And nobody sees this? One
of the bludgeoned, but still barely alive Union guards passes Sabata, who takes
notice but does nothing; the man staggering into the saloon to alert the rest
of the town of the robbery. The simple folk descend on the bank, warded off in
their queries by Daugherty’s complacent Sheriff (Janos Bartha), who vows to
organize a posse. But who needs angry rabble when Sabata is a force of one?
In hightailing
it across the remote landscape, the robbers (minus the Virginia Brothers) are
confronted by Sabata, his rifle aimed and shouting from his perch atop a cliff
nearly 6700 yards away for the men to return to Daugherty and surrender their
payload. One turns to another, claiming no Winchester can shoot half as far,
moments before he is shot dead; Sabata assassinating the rest with lightning
speed and arriving in town with the safe and a small stockpile of corpses.
Naturally, this gruesome sight is alarming to Ferguson and Stengel; also to the
Virginia Brothers who are later assassinated by Oswald on Stengel’s orders; these
men sent to conceal the Virginia wagon shot dead by Sabata, Carrincha and
Indio. There’s so much killing in the first few reels we’re not entirely sure
who deserves it and who doesn’t; or rather who’s justified in taking the law
into their own hands. The Union captain tells Sabata he is up for a reward and
to name his price. Sabata waits for the captain to offer him a figure, then
raises it to $5,000; Carrincha disgusted by the paltry sum when the safe
contained $100,000.
The plot
thickens – or rather, congeals – as Sabata and Banjo exchange telling glances
at the saloon/whorehouse; Banjo striking up a lively tune that incurs Sabata’s
ire. He shoots off the tip of Banjo’s headstock and machine heads. But Banjo
coyly tells Sabata he barely recognizes him for returning the safe; implying
the two men were likely in cahoots on another robbery taking place in their
distant past. In the meantime, Stengel attempts to quash Ferguson and O’Hara’s
mounting anxiety; O’Hara deathly afraid Sabata already knows they are
responsible for the foiled heist. When O’Hara attempts to back out of the land
grab deal, Stengel holds him at gunpoint; using his decorative walking stick;
in reality, a deadly dart gun.
Meanwhile, Sabata
has connected the men attempting to get rid of the Virginia Brothers wagon with
Stengel. Oswald returns to Stengel’s posh hacienda to collect his payoff;
Stengel instead murdering him in a game of cat and mouse. Now, there is
presumably no one left to tie Stengel to the robbery. No one, that is, except
Sabata, who has been quietly observing the confrontation with Oswald through an
open window and fires a couple of distracting rounds at Stengel before riding
off into the night.
From a safe distance,
and concealed under the cover of night, Sabata demands Stengel pay him $10,000
to return the Virginia Brothers wagon – proof he, Stengel, was involved in the
robbery. Sabata rigs the wagon with a gramophone playing his pre-recorded
voice, a dummy propped up in its front seat. Stengel’s men take the bait,
firing a litany of rounds into the wagon filled with dynamite. It explodes into
a hellish fireball, and Sabata – still concealed beyond the stone fence
surrounding Stengel’s hacienda - now informs his foppish mercenary that the
price for his silence has risen to $20,000.
Back in town, Sabata feigns never having left the stoop of the bordello,
Banjo – knowing better – informing Sabata he had better keep tighter reigns on
his horse, lest people begin to believe otherwise.
The next
morning Jane and Banjo quarrel over what she has misperceived as his lack of
initiative; she, wriggling out of bed, belligerently ordering Banjo to hook up
with Stengel and his henchmen. Instead, Banjo informs Sabata – for a bribe of
$200 – Stengel has no intension of surrendering the money. This, Sabata already
knows, or rather, has presumed as much. In fact, he isn’t all that interested
in the money. Not long thereafter, four of Stengel’s hired guns storm Sabata’s
room, firing at his reflection. They are shot dead by Sabata who smugly
proclaims the price for his silence is now $30,000. Stengel pays a highly
respected assassin, Sharky (Marco Zuanelli)
to take care of Sabata. But even he proves no match; quickly dispatched to a
bloody end. Stengel now sends a pair of killers to the saloon, one cruelly
chastising the filthy, Carrincha as a lice-breeder. In short order, Sabata kills
the first gunmen, the other stabbed in the back by Carrincha as payback for the
insult.
Daugherty’s Catholic
priest, Father Brown (Rodolfo Lodi) asks Sabata to
attend him in his church, presumably to perform an absolution for his recent
sins. Alas, this too is a trap set by
Stengel, who replaces Father Brown with an imposter (Luciano Pigozzi). Tempting
the fake ‘Father Brown’ with a satchel full of money, Sabata realizes he has
been had, the satchel rigged with his pistol. The gun goes off when the fake
priest reaches for the bag. From the choir loft, Banjo strikes up a lively tune
on the organ; Sabata momentarily spooked by his presence before strolling out
the front door unscathed. Sabata now informs Stengel his price has doubled to
$60,000; O’Hara imploring Stengel to pay out and move on.
Stengel
begrudgingly informing Sabata he’ll have the money ready and waiting by noon
tomorrow. However, when Sabata’s back is to him, Stengel prepares to take dead
aim and finish Sabata off. The assassination is thwarted at the last possible
moment by Banjo, confronted with five newly arrived desperadoes from Denver who
are there to settle an old score. The odds appear to be stacked against the
‘unarmed’ Banjo. But only a moment later, he uses the element of surprise and
his rifle concealed in his banjo to wipe out all of the aforementioned without even
a pause to reload.
Jane is both
elated and relieved her man has survived the onslaught. But Sabata
instinctively knows what will follow: a showdown between him and Banjo. Sure
enough, the next afternoon at the prearranged money drop, Banjo arrives and
attempts to kill Sabata. Ferguson looks on as each man struggles for supremacy
in this battle of wills; Sabata shooting the rifle from Banjo’s hands, and
firing another three warning shots after Banjo attempts to regain control of
his weapon. Sabata now forces Banjo to tell him what Stengel offered to pay to see
him dead; Banjo confessing Stengel was willing to pay him the entire $100,000
kitty to be rid of Sabata once and for all.
Stengel is
infuriated by this latest failure, and although he allows Banjo another chance
to rectify the botched assassination, he also orders a posse of his men to
pursue Sabata into the canyon. It’s a deliberate trap; Sabato, Carrincha and
Indio isolating Stengel’s men in a narrow pass and starting an avalanche that
effectively traps them. Now, Sabata, Carrincho and Indio make inroads into
Stengel’s hacienda, planting dynamite charges everywhere and murdering one of
the guards to keep their infiltration a secret. Believing the end is near Judge
O'Hara departs the Stengel stronghold before their deluge. Stengel and the rest
of his men are at Sabata’s mercy, the dynamite explosions effectively rendering
Stengel’s small army and their Gatling gun useless.
Carrincha and
Indio storm the main house, Stengel killing Ferguson before taking refuge in
his upstairs military strategist’s war room where he earlier murdered Oswald.
Believing he is safe in this stronghold, Stengel is prepared to engage Sabata
for a showdown. Under the pretext each man has a single bullet (Stengel telling
Sabata he only needs one) Sabata’s gun misfires and Stengel accidentally misses
on his own kill shot. But Stengel now reveals he has more than one bullet at
his disposal. He explains that what separates him from ordinary men like Sabata
is his ability to think ahead. Sabata informs Stengel he wouldn’t bet a dollar
on those odds, tossing a silver piece onto the trigger of Stengel’s
booby-trapped cane; its poisonous dart firing into Stengel and instantly
killing him.
Emerging from
the hacienda, presumably victorious, the trio is confronted by Banjo who
demands the $100,000 at gunpoint. Instead, Sabata informs Banjo the money is
still in the bank, but that Judge O’Hara will have to pay out in order to save
his own reputation. Banjo challenges Sabata to a duel in the town square the
next day; the crowd stunned when Banjo cheats by firing his rifle before the
count off is over. Sabata drops to the ground, Carrincha and Indio rushing to
his side. Banjo cruelly informs Jane she will not be sharing in his good
fortune. Instead, he departs Daugherty alone, taking Sabata’s covered remains
to the outskirts of town. Alas, Sabata has faked his own death. Hence, when
Banjo attempts to abandon the wagon and take off with the $100,000 on
horseback, the loot is, instead, shot from his hand by Sabata; Carrincha and
Indio coming up from behind.
Sabata now
loads the satchel onto his horse, though not before giving a sizable chunk of
the money to Carrincha and yet another sizable wad to Indio. He also tosses a
third bundle to the ground at Banjo’s feet, informing him if he wants the money
badly enough he will have to work for it. Sabata then fires a single bullet
into the band holding the money together. An unexpected gust of wind scatters
the paper currency, Banjo scrambling for the few measly bills he can salvage
for his own and Sabata riding off into the sunset as Carrincha and Indio look
on.
Sabata was wildly successful in both Europe and the U.S.
Photographed in Technicolor, but shot in the inferior Technoscope process, the
movie spawned two more sequels in rapid succession; both starring Lee Van Cleef,
neither as competently made nor as exhilaratingly earthy as the original. Viewed
today, Sabata is an oddity more than
a western hybrid; a sort of crudely hacked together ‘cops and robbers’ blood-fest, transplanted to the western milieu.
Part of its amusement factor is its bad overdubs; the most excruciatingly out
of sync being Ignazio Spalla’s Carrincha and Gianni Rizzo’s Judge O’Hara. Better known for his villains than his
heroes, Lee Van Cleef’s performance as our titular hero remains perplexedly
aloof; his brooding stares peppered in glints of danger, yet curiously marred
by a perpetual scowl that occasionally registers more sinister than satisfying
or goofily garish.
Is Sabata
basically a good guy doing bad things for good reasons? Or is he just an evil man
attempting to repent for a former life Banjo briefly hints at but we never
actually get to see? We’re never quite
sure and Van Cleef’s performance isn’t offering up any clues either. The rest
of the cast are mainly forgettable, William Berger giving a competent
performance as Banjo. Alas, Franco Ressel is an ineffectual villain; his
hard-boiled eyes bugging out of his head, his crooked smile turning into a wounded
frown, seemingly without provocation or even the directives of his own
character’s motivation. He’s just wooden and occasionally silly and hardly a
rival to Van Cleef’s towering crack shot.
The Renato
Izzo/Gianfranco Parolini screenplay is
awash in open-ended plot points never clarified and generally sacrificed at the
point of a gun. Sabata isn’t a movie
for those seeking solid plot with their daily diet of gun play. When all else
fails, Parolini simply gives us a cacophony of thought-numbing action sequences
sandwiched in between some of the most pedestrian scripted drama. Carrincha’s
philosophizing about the futilities of war, life, being an ex-soldier put out
to pasture…etc. have absolutely nothing to do with our story and after the
first spate of ‘woe is me’ prosaicisms
it really doesn’t do much for our further understanding of this character
either; still relentlessly lusty - a loyal sidekick who comes with his own
sidekick – Indio – practically, a mime).
To Parolini’s
credit, almost all of action sequences are compellingly and uniquely staged.
Here is a director who really knows how to transform basic gunplay (which can
become repetitively boring, as in, you’ve seen one pistol/rifle fight, you’ve
seen them all) into cinema art, in no small part thanks to Sandro Mancori’s
artful cinematography. Composer, Marcello Giombini’s Sabata theme is catchy enough, but interpolated so often throughout,
it becomes almost a tired cliché by the end titles. In between, we get some
fairly obvious and traditional ‘western’ music, at times deplorably generic.
The saloon pianola, as example, sounds like something we’ve heard countless
times before and to better effect elsewhere. In the final analysis, Sabata isn’t exactly a top-tier
spaghetti western, though it strives for authenticity and manages, at least for
the most part, to hold our attention long enough to forget what’s here isn’t
all that special. Disposable
entertainment – but good for a quick second glance.
Kino Lorber’s
Blu-ray is a middling effort at best; MGM Home Video slapping out the same
digital elements without cleanup or color correction/enhancements to truly make
this 1080p presentation shine. Incredibly, most of the transfer is free of
age-related artifacts. A light speckle of dirt and the occasional scratch –
also a single instance of a severely annoying hair caught in the gate, seen
just above Lee Van Cleef’s dark wide-brimmed hat immediately after he enters
the saloon for the very first time. Honestly, if we’re not going for
perfection, then at least let’s aim for basic competence.
The 2.35:1
image is mostly sharp, though not entirely crisp as one might expect with
several shots looking decidedly blurry, especially on my 80 inch screen; colors
intermittently vibrant, then decidedly bleached and/or faded and contrast levels
ever so slightly boosted – especially in the last reel. Flesh tones look mostly
accurate; although occasionally they lean towards ruddy orange. We’ll chalk
that up to a bad sunburn. Film grain seems to have been adequately reproduced,
though there were one or two moments where it seemed excessively thick. Most impressive detail is had in the extreme close-ups
scattered throughout. Long and medium
shots do not fare nearly as well.
Don’t get
excited about the audio either. Basic Dolby Digital 2.0 English and woefully
out of sync during the middle act of the movie – even sound effects, like shoes
walking on hard wood flooring don’t line up. I suspect, this transfer was
culled from the same flawed elements used to mint the DVD for the Sabata Trilogy from 2005. Extras?
Forget about it! A theatrical trailer and that’s all, brother! Bottom line: if
you’re a fan, the Blu-ray improves on the DVD – marginally - which wasn’t hard
to do. It’s far from perfect, however, a single-layered and just present and
accounted for; though hardly living up to Blu-ray’s claim of ‘perfect picture/perfect sound.’
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
3
VIDEO/AUDIO
3
EXTRAS
0
0
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