Cut-Throats Nine (1972) review

CUT-THROATS NINE 1972 aka CONDENADOS A VIVIR (CONDEMNED TO LIVE) aka BRONSON'S REVENGE

Robert Hundar (Sergeant Brown), Emma Cohen (Cathy), Rafael Hernandez (Dick Patterson), Ricardo Diaz (Joe "El Comanchero" Farrow), Carlos Romero Marchent (Slim), Antonio Iranzo (Ray "The Torch" Brewster), Alberto Dalbes (Thomas Loren), Jose Manuel Martin (John "Weasel" McFarland), Manuel Tejada (Dean Marlowe)

Directed by Joaquin Romero Marchent

The Short Version: American westerns, having been one-upped in the violence category by the Italians, would outmaneuver them by the dawn of the 1970s. Spain, like a matador, entered the arena with one of the genre's most notorious entries, literally goring the hell out of the wild west. A nihilist western in the vein of Corbucci's THE GREAT SILENCE (1968), there's no one to root for and everyone is absorbed with either vengeance or greed or both. Heartfelt hatred drives the narrative in this one. A drastic turn halfway through causes the picture to lose some momentum, but gets it back again during the last half. Not for everybody, Marchent is very successful at maintaining a massively depressing atmosphere from beginning to end. With all the closeup shots of spurting blood and exposed viscera, one pictures Lucio Fulci having an epiphany.

Sergeant Brown, along with his daughter, Cathy, is tasked with transporting seven ruthless criminals on a 400 mile trek to the gallows at Fort Green. A family of half-starved robbers ambush the wagon, believing it to be carrying gold among its cargo. They kill the cavalry escorts but Brown, his daughter, and the chain-gang murderers manage to escape, crashing their wagon in the process. Impeded by rough terrain and a snowstorm, Sergeant Brown, determined to see the seven cutthroats arrive at their destination, has ulterior motives--to find out which of the seven convicts murdered his wife.

The Italians had been gradually taking the western into increasingly darker territory ever since Sergio Leone's FISTFUL OF DOLLARS debuted in 1964. Corbucci's THE GREAT SILENCE (1968) is arguably the zenith of demoralization where the genre was concerned. For abject pessimism, it's hard to beat. American oaters were veering in that direction as early as 1967, fully embracing cynicism with 1969s THE WILD BUNCH, and giving wide berth to a slew of imitations and defeatist westerns--many of which audiences couldn't have cared less about. Spain got in on the act with CUT-THROATS NINE garnering similar audience apathy. Marchent's movie did something none of the others had done, though, and that's place primary focus on mutilation and the sheer joy of his characters while inflicting it.

Sergio Corbucci had pioneered body maiming with DJANGO (1966) wherein a captive is force-fed his own ear and, in the same film, the title gatling gun-toting avenger has his hands trampled by horses. In NAVAJO JOE (1966), a major character has an axe placed square in the middle of his head; skull trauma cropped up again in JOHNNY ORO (1966) along with the gunning down of women and children. Other directors like Giulio Questi followed Corbucci's lead, adding Grand Guinol grue to his bizarro western, DJANGO KILL... IF YOU LIVE, SHOOT! (1967). Sergio #2 was merely cultivating the crop that Leone had planted. Director Marchent, on the other hand, would take the genre into shocking terrain that hadn't been explored up to that time.

Just as Marchent's earlier westerns occasionally looked and felt like their American-made counterparts of the classical Era, CUT-THROATS NINE follows the trajectory of the dystopian western of the Vietnam War Era. Totally avoiding the comedy trend that was big box office in Europe at that time, Marchent took the violence to places yet seen in the western genre; this wasn't violence on the level of dozens of extras bloodlessly mowed down with a gatling gun--this was akin to watching Olga Karlatos getting her eye skewered on a wood splinter in closeup in Lucio Fulci's ZOMBIE (1979).

In this picture you'll see limbs hacked away, bodies burned beyond recognition, eviscerations, throat slittings, and other grotesqueries in slow motion and closeup. Most westerns relegated their brutality to lingering death via hanging or blood squibs. This one takes an almost slasher movie mentality towards murdering its cast; only here, there's no masked maniac. Everybody is crazy, seeking revenge, or suffering from some past transgression. The one pure character, Brown's daughter Cathy, ends up gang raped and emotionally molested. In an earlier scene, she nearly freezes to death; considering how things play out, succumbing to the icy sting of a snow storm is preferable to violation by half a dozen slobbering cretins.

About as mean-spirited as they come, Marchent co-wrote the script with Santiago Moncada, packing it full of the most sadistic hombres this side of the Rio Grande. Not counting the four murderous gold-seekers who pop up every once in a while, there's only seven CUT-THROATS, despite the nine of the US title. Just past the halfway mark, the film descends further into the abyss, leaving little chance at something resembling a happy ending. The only respite comes in the form of brief flashbacks as the various characters reflect on better days or how they came to be in their situation. These scenes are the only moments of real exposition. The dialog serves little purpose other than to make the convicts as inhospitable and uncivilized as possible.

 
In a unique deviation from the norm, the driving force behind the main characters is less greed than it is outright hatred. Misanthropy is the stagecoach driver here. That's not to say the ubiquitous lust for gold plot device is absent, just it's overshadowed by the relentless lack of humanity. Many in the cast are murdered for the simple joy of it.

Regarding the requisite avarice, the writers put an ironic spin on it. The metal ties that bind the seven murderers together is more than just a chain. It's a striking metaphor that the seven men are literally enslaved by what they'd love to get their hands on--money; and if they can't escape death's embrace by the elements they'll never get the chance to spend it. However, they wish to see their captor, Sgt. Brown, dead even more. 

Sgt. Brown (Hundar), while a protagonist, is barely discernible from the villains. Driven by an inner loathing for the very men he's tasked with transporting to a military fort, he knows one of them is responsible for the death of his wife, but he doesn't know which one. For revenge, he's willing to kill them all if necessary. This is one area where the script is moderately weak. It doesn't fully explore his arc. Brown's true intentions are ambiguous. We know he wants revenge but the notion he may have eyes on taking the gold for himself is also raised.

Shot in the Pyrenees of Huesca, Luis Cuadrado's camerawork highlights the vast expanse of the snow-capped mountains and the isolation of the situation the characters find themselves in. The filmmakers take advantage of the locales, capturing some stunning shots of the ominous mountains dwarfing the cast as they make their way through harsh conditions. As for the actors, there's a rather long stretch of footage where Hundar is making his way through a rough snow storm carrying an unconscious Emma Cohen, occasionally dropping her into the snow after fatigue sets in. Neither actor has their head or hands covered. Cohen is especially convincing here as you never see her shivering at all.

Marchent was a director of six-gun cinema before Sergio Leone redefined it. Considered the pioneering force behind the genres explosion in Spain, Marchent has some shining examples bearing his name--whether writing, producing or directing.  He performs in all three capacities with CUT-THROATS NINE. The film, diametrically opposed to all his previous endeavors, was obviously of enough interest to put so much effort into it. His brothers, Carlos and Rafael Romero Marchent, are also actors; the former is in the film as one of the title miscreants and the latter is a director in his own right.

Joaquin's first shot at the genre as a director was with the Spain-Mexico co-pro's THE COYOTE and JUDGMENT OF THE COYOTE, both shot simultaneously in 1955 (and starring Abel Salazar; a familiar face to fans of Mexi-horror cinema). Collaborating with future trash flick kingpin, Jesus Franco, the two reportedly wrote scenes for both films in the morning that were shot in the afternoon.

His westerns are varied, but overshadowed by the notorious CUT-THROATS NINE. An irrefutably powerful movie, it's the only film in his western repertoire that is excessively bleak to the point of bordering on horror. Directing films in the classical, pre-Leone American style, Marchent would then adopt the sweaty Italian brand Leone instigated. CUT-THROATS NINE was his last as director, emulating the doom and gloom of the American filth westerns of the 1970s. Marchent died August 16th, 2012 at 91 years of age.

 
Whereas John Ford had John Wayne, Joaquin Romero Marchent had Robert Hundar (Claudio Undari). The actor worked on six of Marchent's westerns: THE SHADOW OF ZORRO (CABALGANDO HACIA LA MUERTE [1962]); THE IMPLACABLE THREE (TRE HOMBRES BUENOS [1963]); SONS OF VENGEANCE (EL SABOR DE LA VENGANZA [1963]); SEVEN GUNS FROM TEXAS (ANTES LLEGA LA MUERTE [1964]); $100,000 FOR LASSITER (LA MUERTE CUMPLE CONDENA [1966]); and finally, CUT-THROATS NINE (CONDENADOS A VIVIR [1971]). Working in peplums and modern crime pictures, Hundar was even better at playing heavies--which he often did.

The gore is surprisingly good; the work of Carlos Paradela (FURY OF THE WOLF MAN [1972]), HORROR OF THE ZOMBIES [1974]). As told by star Robert Hundar, the blood and guts was added at the behest of an American producer. It's unclear if these scenes were added in post, or suggested while the film was being made. At any rate, the scenes exist in both the Spanish original and the export version. The closeups and slow motion of the act of butchery foreshadows Fulci. Possibly the man famous for orbital destruction saw Marchent's movie at some point.

 
CUT-THROATS NINE has some rough spots, but otherwise it's a uniformly strong entry in the annals of Euro-westerns. For a film to have very little gunplay (there are no traditional gunfights), it does a fine job of keeping the viewer riveted... for a time. The aforementioned drastic turn midway through cranks up the depressing mood extensively; yet this is the point where the picture nearly freezes to death, stumbling around trying to find its momentum again. Thankfully, it finds it once the setting changes to a Way Station where the last acts of cruelty take place. Finishing with a denouement as dispiriting as the previous 90 minutes, CUT-THROATS NINE is well made quasi-trash from a capable director versed in translating a sense of humanity to the screen. For this, his last, Joaquin Romero Marchent decided to show humankind shorn of it--showing he was good at that, too.

This review is representative of the Code Red bluray. Specs and extras: anamorphic widescreen 1.85:1; original theatrical trailer; running time: 1:31:16.

 

Knife For the Ladies (1974) review

KNIFE FOR THE LADIES 1974 aka JACK THE RIPPER GOES WEST aka SILENT SENTENCE

Jack Elam (Jarrod Colcord), Ruth Roman (Elizabeth Mescal), Jeff Cooper (Detective Edward Burns), John Kellogg (Simeon Hollyfield), Gene Evans (Virgil Hooker), Diana Ewing (Jenny), Derek Sanderson (Lute), Jon Spangler (Seth)

Directed by Larry G. Spangler

The Short Version: A curious sagebrush slasher about a citified sleuth and a local sheriff investigating a string of prostitute murders. Aside from feeling like a sleazier version of a TV movie, KNIFE FOR THE LADIES is as tame as the Lone Ranger's horse. No nudity, very little blood, and only one brief shootout won't do much for the rough n' rowdy horror and western crowds. Ironically the picture is more successful at characterizations--the entire middle portion is devoted to it although there are some worthy characters that are either unexplored or given no payoff. The grotesque finale is a satisfying coda, followed by a catchy end credits funk tune. The budget is low, the music consists of library tracks and cues lifted from HANG'EM HIGH (1968); but the diet horror elements and plot twists make for a modestly intriguing 86 minutes of Little Horror On the Prairie.

The time is 1883. The place is Mescal, a small Southwestern town gripped in terror by a knife-wielding killer with a hatred of beautiful young women. Marshal Colcord is unable to solve the murders so an outside investigator named Ed Burns is brought in and immediately ruffles the Marshal's feathers. After butting heads and beating the hell out of one another, the two lawmen finally decide to cooperate. Uncovering a trail of clues that puts them closer to the murderer's identity, can they catch the killer in time before the next murder?

Larry Spangler was obviously fond of western cinema; his hands were on five of them back in the 1970s. All ranging in quality, his tales among the tumbleweeds include the awful THE LAST REBEL (1971) with Joe Namath (a friend of Spangler's) and the cult black action favorite THE LEGEND OF NIGGER CHARLEY (1972) starring Fred Williamson--whom Spangler would work with a few more times throughout the decade. Wedged in among his resume is KNIFE FOR THE LADIES, an obscure, peculiar, slasher western. A decent little picture, it nonetheless fails from a budget unable to withstand the weight of its ambitions.

Floating around for years in a carved up version barely reaching 60 minutes, KNIFE FOR THE LADIES (1974) comes to bluray from Code Red in its full 86 minute running time for the first time ever. The longer cut is a much better presentation showcasing several artistic flourishes that, despite making the picture appreciable in light of its low budget, won't help it win many new fans of either westerns or horror films.

Articles from the 1970s when Spangler and his crew were shooting in Old Tucson in mid '73 stated two versions were being shot--a gorier X-rated version with nudity for the European market and a less salacious one for North America. Purportedly aiming for a PG rating, the film ended up with an unnecessary R; this is especially perplexing since there are PG films more violent than this one from the same time period. As mildly enjoyable as it is, it's unfortunate the Drive-in crowd were denied the proper elements that could have made KNIFE FOR THE LADIES (originally shooting with the article 'A' on the title) an unheralded gem of trash cinema.

What we do get is a very mild horror picture with a touch of PSYCHO (1960), BABY JANE (1962) and the expected red herrings (such as the eccentric mortician who happens to be the town barber). The ample opportunities for exploitation is limited to a few slit throats and one character covered in Syphilis sores. 

Limited is another way to describe the action quotient. There's one brawl and only one gun battle (and it's hardly that at all); yet the script could just as easily have found room for more. The finished product isn't bound to satisfy many of either camp, but it isn't without some merits.

Shot at the Old Tucson Studios in Arizona, the "Hollywood of the desert" was an oasis for the western genre on both the big and small screen. Many of the greats were shot there including four big ones from The Duke, John Wayne: RIO BRAVO (1959), McLINTOCK! (1963), EL DORADO (1968) and RIO LOBO (1970). Additionally, it was also a popular tourist attraction. Built in 1938, Land Developer Robert Shelton bought the property in 1959 and turned it into the hottest locale for shooting Sagebrush Sagas. Shelton was involved in hundreds of Out West features and TV programs during the time he owned the property between 1960-1985. For KNIFE FOR THE LADIES, Shelton's contribution was as a writer for the first, and presumably only time.

Speaking of which, the writers do an extraordinary job of fleshing out the main participants--much to the detriment of the exploitation potential. Virtually the entirety of the middle portion is building the characters. While this isn't a bad thing, it causes confusion as to what sort of picture Spangler and crew were intending to create--and makes one long for that gruesome export version. Still, Jack Elam and Ruth Roman do well in keeping the movie bearable.

Elam's short-tempered sheriff is arguably the most likable and gets the most mileage from the way his character is written. Out of his dozens of western gigs this is one of the most complex; he's given an unusually meaty role where he starts out as a grizzled, unkempt marshal; by the end, he's a tempered, jovial personality. Key to this transformation is a minor sub-plot about a small boy (Spangler's son) that, yet again, goes the distance in moving the film away from its sleaze proponents during the middle section.

Seth, the kid who stumbles across one of the killer's victims at the beginning--much like Gene Evans' character (mentioned below)--is eventually pushed to the sidelines and not explored to any benefit. There's not even a scene where the kid is put in danger. He is key to the evolution of Elam's sheriff, but this ends up as another missed opportunity.

Ruth Roman is particularly sinister as the aristocratic Mescal founder. Just her delivery alone you know there's something not quite right about her. There's a great shot near the beginning where Seth walks past the Mescal home and sees a shadow moving past a window. KNIFE FOR THE LADIES needed more eerie moments like this. Roman appeared in a few other movies that had similar narratives like THE KILLING KIND (1973) and IMPULSE (1974)--the latter starring William Shatner. 

Character actor Gene Evans as former deputy Virgil Hooker is the other villain of the picture. Evans was always a reliable bad guy in the reputable, and less than reputable, films he appeared in. His former lawman, now disgruntled bar owner, is underdeveloped; which is unfortunate as he does a lot with his role--in the few scenes he's given.

Jeff Cooper, compared to the others, is arguably the least interesting character of the bunch. The script does well contradicting his Holmesian approach to investigating versus Elam's casual, almost disinterested style. Cooper's hairdo is somewhat distracting in an anachronistically 70s sort of way. It stands out as much as the funk theme song, 'Evil Lady' by Michael Stull. Cooper was the star of two comic book-based movies in Mexico's Kaliman series; and played Cord, the lead protagonist in CIRCLE OF IRON (1978). Sort of a beefier version of Marjoe Gortner, Cooper did garner a recurring role in the first few seasons of the mega-popular DALLAS (1978-1991) and some additional TV work before dropping out of the industry scene in the mid 1980s. 

Westerns mixed with Horror is a bizarre combo, and not a particularly popular sub-genre. Some have become minor cult items among the so-bad-it's-good crowd. There have been quite a few of them in recent years, although KNIFE FOR THE LADIES is but a minor footnote in the wagon train of wild west horror; other examples include TEENAGE MONSTER (1958), CURSE OF THE UNDEAD (1959), BILLY THE KID VS. DRACULA (1966) and JESSE JAMES MEETS FRANKENSTEIN'S DAUGHTER (1966). Modern examples include EYES OF FIRE (1983), GRIM PRAIRIE TALES (1990), RAVENOUS (1999), and BONE TOMAHAWK (2015).

Mexico did a fair number of them, too. THE LIVING COFFIN (1958), LA MURCIELAGOS (THE BATS [1964]), and EL CHARRO DE LAS CALAVERAS (THE COWBOY OF THE SKULLS [1965]) being some examples.

The reality is, that despite what little KNIFE FOR THE LADIES does right, its target audience is going to feel short-changed. It's obvious the filmmakers are trying for something different with its multi-genre machinations, but fails at satisfying a single one of them. There's not enough sleaze for the Drive-in lovers nor enough shootouts for western fans; and the dramatic moments that dominate the talky mid-section will serve only the most tolerant fan of Drive-in fare. It's biggest draw is its obscurity status, and the chance to see the full-length film for the first time.

This review is representative of the Code Red bluray. Specifications and extras: anamorphic widescreen 1.85:1; Code Red trailers; running time: 1:26:18.