The Desperados (1969) review

THE DESPERADOS 1969 aka HAINE LA DES DESPERADOS (HATRED OF THE DESPERADOS) aka LA MARCA DE CAIN (THE MARK OF CAIN)

Jack Palance (Josiah Galt), Vince Edwards (David Galt), Sylvia Syms (Laura Gant), Benjamin Edney (Pauly Gant), Sheila Burrell (Emily Galt), George Maharis (Jacob Galt), Kate O'Mara (Adah), Neville Brand (Marshal Andy Kilpatrick)

Directed by Henry Levin

The Short Version: Sweeping camerawork and a rousing score by the underrated composer David Whitaker enhance this violent, if unintentionally hilarious precursor to the downer western sub-genre, a style of oater that found prominence in the post-WILD BUNCH era. Jack Palance, in probably his most ferociously unhinged performance, is basically playing William Quantrill, the infamous Confederate leader of a band of cutthroats in the 1860s. Shot in Spain, this US-British co-production is graced with a lot of polish and ambition but fails mightily from sloppy editing. On the good side, Levin arms his film with energetic action sequences, buckets of tragedy and biblical connotations. Elsewhere there's a great storyline underneath the thick, succulent, thespian glaze of Jack Palance's high dollar ham.

After his wife is killed during the Civil War, a renegade priest, his sons, and a band of murderous plunderers massacre all the border towns they come across. One of the Confederate sons, Davey Galt, shocked at the massacre of the entire town, rebels and is sentenced to death by his father. David manages to escape and goes into hiding. A few years pass and the war is over; David has made a new life for himself in Texas. He changes his last name to Gant, gets married, has a son, and manages a peaceful existence till his crazed father and brothers come looking for him. Recalling the prophetic message of his dying mother, David realizes a showdown with his deranged father is inevitable.

Essentially a loose historical account of Quantrill's Raiders, a bloodthirsty bunch of Reb guerrilla fighters led by rampaging murderer William Clarke Quantrill, the movie is big on action and light on details. The plot is one with great appeal, already explored in similar fashion in earlier westerns such as 1958s QUANTRILL'S RAIDERS (with one of cinema's most prolific and recognizable Tough Guys, Leo Gordon, playing the title Reb); and more recent examples in the box office misfire RIDE WITH THE DEVIL (1999). Italian westerns with similar characterizations of Quantrill are seen in THE TRAMPLERS (1965) and THE HELLBENDERS (1967), both starring Joseph Cotten, and both films based on Will Cook's 1958 novel 'Guns of North Texas'. Walter Brough's script seems to be partially based on Cook's book while turning Palance's Josiah Galt into a more overt version of Quantrill.

Unfortunately, Brough's script is paralyzed from the waist down due to cannonball-sized holes in the narrative. These gaps suggest either terrible editing decisions or the production ran out of money and they had to scrap the shooting of certain sequences. One of these narrative chasms comes just before a jailbreak sequence. One minute David (Edwards) and Kilpatrick (played by a bloated Neville Brand) are getting drunk together and moments later they're suddenly sober, their dinner interrupted by an explosion leading to the escape of the two captive Galt brothers.

Another scene that doesn't make a whole lot of sense is David and Marshal Kilpatrick being captured and taken to Josiah's encampment. David feigns turning on the Marshal, making his two brothers believe he's returned to them. To prove his loyalty, Josiah orders him to slice up the Marshal but then David and Kilpatrick get the upper hand. Instead of taking Josiah or one of his brothers hostage they simply escape and get into a gunfight.

Doing a more accurate motion picture about Quantrill could have been an epic undertaking. That segment of the Civil War is of major historical significance in that his propensity for pillaging occurred in the few years leading up to Lincoln's assassination. Director Levin's movie, however, is as much Greek tragedy as it is a tumbleweed tale. It uses the real mad guerrilla leader and changes his name, turning him into a bible-spouting lunatic. Some of the Confederate Bushwhacker's murderous exploits are implemented to propel the storyline, though. 

For example, the film begins with a re-enactment of the Lawrence, Kansas Massacre of 1863. Changing the name to St. Thomas, Kansas, Josiah and his gang decimate the population from 1,645 to zero in a matter of minutes. Later in the movie an action scene aboard a train is reworked from an incident that occurred shortly after the infamous Kansas slaughter. The filmmakers up the ante by having a fight atop the train just prior to it catching fire, and derailing for no discernible reason.

THE DESPERADOS was released in November of 1969, a few months after THE WILD BUNCH (1969). Bearing an 'M' rating (the equivalent of a PG), it's often violent, but has none of the bloody squibs that raised eyebrows in the aforementioned Peckinpah classic. In place of blood spatter, Levin's movie wears a dark tone that never lets up, all the way to the shocking ending. Still, the cheerless atmosphere wages its own war with the scenery gobbling main star...

....An intense, comically over the top performance by Jack "GOOOOODAAAAMN YOOOOUUU!!!" Palance. To call his portrayal as the maniacal patriarch unhinged is being mild. In nearly all his scenes, Palance threatens to burst a vein in his head, ranting, raving and screaming his lines as if he's standing on a floor full of nails. Frequently gritting his teeth, growling, talking with his hands, and contorting his face in bizarre ways, Palance is a marvel to behold; the role demands a manic portrayal, only the esteemed actor goes far beyond the boundaries of being taken seriously. Moreover, it's exactly because of this irrational depiction that keeps THE DESPERADOS interesting. Director Levin came from a theater background, so possibly he encouraged Palance to put his acting into overdrive; or, considering Palance once said many of his movies were complete garbage, his onscreen mania may have been an extension of his displeasure with appearing in this movie.

Vince Edwards as the brooding Galt/Gant is about as reserved a hero as you can get. Essentially a tormented character in the mold of the biblical Cain, Edward's rarely emotes; even his screaming matches with Palance barely registers a slight tremor. We don't get a sufficient amount of time with him to garner much sympathy since the exposition is sabotaged every few minutes by Palance's mesmerizing mugging and the numerous, energetic, stunt-filled shootouts. Edwards went from the lead in the popular medical drama TV series BEN CASEY (1961-1966), to the high profile war picture THE DEVIL'S BRIGADE (1968) to this. He did some exploitation pictures like the Violent Cop thriller THE MAD BOMBER (1973), the Roger Corman produced cheapie SPACE RAIDERS (1983), and lots of television.

Hammer hottie Kate O'Mara is one of the Carlin's Entertainers, a wagon cart full o' whores. Sporting a lame leg, O'Mara gets about as much dialog and onscreen presence as she does in her horror pictures. She figures into the climax in a minor, but noticeable way. Prior to that, she's just a background face.

Another asset that ultimately works against the picture is the score by the underrated composer David Whitaker. Containing all the bombast any action film could ask for, Whitaker's cues sometimes feel out of place, better suited for a war movie. Still, his compositions are never slow, always on the move; and by the end, veer off into tense, almost uncomfortable areas. The opening theme, for example, is a soaring piece; but considering the depressing tone the film quickly adopts, Whitaker's orchestral opulence feels like it's wandered in from some other production.

Bearing the short-lived 'M' rating (suggested for Mature audiences) during its theatrical run, THE DESPERADOS lost some of its violent content. One scene occurs during the opening town massacre. Josiah has several men lined up along a wall and shoots them all in the back one by one. In the movie you only hear a single bullet fire. The scene is included on the promotional materials. There's some brief shots of partial nudity that may have been more risque before the picture was edited for content.

THE DESPERADOS has yet to turn up on any digital format in the United States. Sony released it on VHS back in 1992. Both France and Spain have released the picture on DVD, although the latter appears to be missing approximately ten minutes if the listed running time is accurate. The satellite airing that is the source of this review runs 1:30:32.

An ambitious failure, every time THE DESPERADOS gains momentum it puts it against the wall and shoots it in the back. Impressive aerial shots, thematic subtext and action lose steam to careless editing choices and merciless overacting by Jack Palance. For some, Palance's deranged line delivery will be a benefit rather than a hindrance. He certainly makes the picture a memorable experience; your point of view will determine whether that's in a good or bad way. It's an entertainingly trashy 90 minutes, indicative of where the western genre was headed in the 1970s.

Whale God (1962) review

WHALE GOD 1962 aka 鯨神 (KUJIRA GAMI)

Katsu Shintaro (Kishu), Hongo Kojiro (Shaki), Fujimura Shiho (Ei), Enami Kyoko (Toyo), Fujiwara Reiko (Okoma), Takano Michiko (Yuki), Yosuke Takemura (Kasuke), Shimura Takashi (Village Elder)

Directed by Tanaka Tokuzo

The Short Version: Hongo Kojiro is Shaki, a young whaler hellbent on spearing a gigantic baleen that has wrecked havoc on his village for decades. Also vying for the pleasure of lancing the Kujira Gami (Whale God) is a brutish harpooner played by Katsu Shintaro. An early SPX drama from Daiei, Japan's answer to MOBY DICK (1956) is based on an award-winning novel from 1961 and features some extravagant special effects. Spirited performances, abundant testosterone, gallons of spurting whale blood and a doom-laden score by the one and only Ifukube Akira are among the highlights. Possibly a hard sell for strict monster movie lovers, fans of the actors and Japanese theatrics will either have a whale with this quasi-monster epic or go down with the ship.

After decades of being terrorized by a gigantic whale, the elder of Wadaura, a coastal village in Kyushu, promises his daughter and all his land to the first man to slay the beast and bring him its snout tied to a rope. Losing his grandfather, his father and his brother Shatsu to the great Right Whale over the years, Shaki vows to kill it. Another whaler, a cruel drifter named Kishu, proclaims that he will be the one to bring down the devil whale. One bound by vengeance, the other by riches, the stage is set for a clash between both man and beast.

Daiei Studios had enjoyed international recognition in the 1950s with award-winning pictures such as Kurosawa's RASHOMON (1950), but it was the company's 1960s output that is easily their most popular. Wedged in between Art House films, tense samurai epics and entertaining monster movies are a few pictures that combined all three of those styles; WHALE GOD is one such production.

Based on Uno Koichiro's novel from 1961, the inspiration is clearly Melville's 'Moby-Dick' novel from 1851; itself turned into a movie (for the third time) several years earlier in 1956. This Nipponese equivalent has shades of its source, but is distinctly Japanese in flavor. 'Kujira Gami' won the 46th Annual Akutagawa literary prize that same year in '61. Before you could say "Call me Ishmael", Daiei secured film rights for a reported one million yen. Unlike Melville, whose career sank after 'Moby-Dick', Koichiro became a popular and prolific author, finding fame as a mystery writer and, to an even greater degree, for his erotic works--many of which were made into movies by Nikkatsu Studios.

Shindo Kaneto's script adaptation of Koichiro's novel contains fleeting expressions of social class (Shaki's girlfriend born of a poor family; Toyo's enriched upbringing) and religion (the Christian iconography; the whale as a devil or supernatural entity) found in the Melville source, entrenching them within Japanese culture; such as when it revels in ancient village customs that occasionally clash with the encroaching modernism of the Meiji Era the story takes place in. The borderline insanity of Ahab is retained, if spread out among the villagers both frightened and hellbent on destroying the accursed whale. Still, the focal point is on the two male leads and the level of masculinity between them is as massive as the devil whale itself.

The 1956 version of MOBY DICK had Gregory Peck and Richard Basehart. In the case of this movie, we have Hongo Kojiro and Katsu Shintaro. The script takes Captain Ahab and splits him between both these actors. To a lesser extent, Hongo is also the film's Ishmael. Whereas Melville's character was the lone survivor of the seafaring vessel the Pequod, the interpretation in Tokuzo's movie is the last surviving male member of his clan. His obsession with the sea beast mirrors that of Ahab's, but isn't limited to vengeance.

Nearly half-crazed with revenge, Shaki's vendetta takes on a strange romanticism by the time he comes face to face with the mighty whale. This adoration reaches levels you'd likely never see anywhere else but in a Japanese drama. It's akin to the samurai spirit where this respect, this honor between combatants, supersedes any enmity. He's not even interested in obtaining the Elder's wealth nor his beautiful daughter Toyo; only the slaughter of the whale holds his attention. He already has a lover, Ei, a young lady from a poor family; lending the film some social relevance and soap opera-ish entanglements. Without giving things away, a detail from Melville's book involving Ishmael and a coffin has a decidedly Japanese twist placed on it during the spirituality-fused finale.

Top billed Katsu Shintaro is Kishu, the other Ahab of this tale, and ostensibly the film's human antagonist. A socially inept drifter, his ogreish personality takes him further away from Melville's one-legged revenger in comparison to the torment of Hongo's character. Katsu plays Kishu as borderline evil, boasting of his abilities in between maiming some of the fishermen who challenge his dominance; even proclaiming himself to be a murderer at one point.

In arguably the most dramatic thread in the picture, Kishu rapes Ei, the girlfriend of Shaki. She never tells him this (till much later) and even upon going into labor he never questions who the father is. He takes the child as his own and after their marriage and the kids baptism, Shaki shows off the boy to Kishu, who seems noticeably uncomfortable--and with good reason. It's at this point in the movie that Katsu's character undergoes a change, ambiguous as it is.

Both Shaki and Kishu are determined to be the first to deliver the fatal blow to the title baleen whale. The former out of retribution for decades of familial loss; and the latter for the prizes that come with the kill. However, as despicable as Kishu is, the script, in a surprising twist, affords him some redemption born out of the scene described above.

In Melville's novel, Ahab's mania spells doom for both him and his crew; In WHALE GOD, this psychosis is shared by most everybody in the coastal village, but primary focus is given to Shaki while Ahab's fate is handed over to Kishu; yet his death comes not from self-indulgence but self-sacrifice. Despite his animalistic personality, Kishu is afforded the absolution denied Ahab.

 
Hongo Kojiro had only a few films to his credit, including a star turn in the previous years spectacular BUDDHA. That picture also featured Katsu Shintaro in a less than noble role. Naturally, Japanese movie fans outside of Japan know Hongo from his Gamera gigs and Katsu from over two dozen ZATOICHI productions. Hongo suffices as the tormented and determined son, but Katsu makes the better impression here, at least in terms of his range. He'd played a vile blind masseur in 1960s THE BLIND MENACE, and a duplicitous usurper in the aforementioned BUDDHA (1961). His most famous role as a kindly blind masseur/yakuza in THE TALE OF ZATOICHI debuted in April of '62, three months prior to WHALE GOD's theatrical premiere in July of that year.

The climactic man vs. whale is impressive and a testament to the special effects crew of Toru Matoba, Tsutomu Komatsubara, Hideyoshi Ono, and Takesaburo Watanabe. Painted backdrops, mattes, miniatures and animated seagulls heralding the arrival of the whale's seasonal tyranny enhance the drama. Daiei was still a few years away from making a huge splash in the arena of FX dominated cinema with GAMERA (1965), although the cloud of GODZILLA (1954) looms large over WHALE GOD and doesn't go unnoticed. One area that recalls Honda's iconic monster movie is in its music.

Ifukube Akira's incredible score reverberates the apocalyptic landscape from his work on the original GODZILLA (1954). His choice of music certainly makes the creature god-like; sort of a cross between the radioactive menace and the islander-worshiped Mothra. There's a beauty in Ifukube's sonic doom that evokes the death the protagonists desire to embrace. Ifukube would again compose a beautiful score for Tokuzo's similarly structured SPX horror drama, THE SNOW WOMAN in 1968.

Setsuo Kobayashi gives director Tokuzo's movie a unique look with his stark B/W photography, creating a dank atmosphere nearly bereft of any sunlight that's especially beneficial during the whale sequences. Elsewhere, the nighttime scenes look coated in charcoal black, highlighting beads of sweat and water on the cast members. The massive amount of doom and gloom contrasts the sprawling sense of adventure of Huston's adaptation. Aside from what's discussed above, cultural differences account for the divide in tone, although both share their pseudo-monster movie trappings. 

As for the 'Kujira Gami', an expensive life-size scale model was built by ape specialist, Ohashi Fuminori (HALF HUMAN [1955]). Much like the 90 footer built for John Huston's '56 version, the large model proved problematic for shooting in the water. Additionally, monster maker Ryosaku Takayama designed an 18ft miniature whale that the filmmakers got a lot of mileage out of.

The whale effects range in quality, but mostly they are comparable to Huston's epic interpretation; especially during the show-stopping finale, a violent symphony of man against mammal. It goes on a bit too long with Katsu, then Hongo, ferociously stabbing the whale's hide, covering themselves in geysers of blood; the unsettled waves wiping away the gore from their bare bodies as they're once more cloaked in crimson.

The director and his crew made a strong dramatic feature although some of the editing is a bit wobbly. The passage of time is confusing what with the film's timeline jumping around on a few occasions. There's also an editing mistake during the finale. When Kishu goes after the whale first, there's a brief, misplaced shot of both him and Shaki atop the beast (represented by models of the actors; see insert). Incidentally, the trailer features shots that are absent in the movie of the two actors stabbing away at the monster whale together.

WHALE GOD is one of Daiei's more peculiar productions. More of a drama than a monster movie, fans of that genre probably won't find much in terms of re-watch value here outside of curiosity for the title beast's presence. The Jidaigeki crowd, fans of the two main actors, and those wishing to see a Nippon spin on Melville's novel will benefit the most from this unusual movie. If you're only familiar with the director's samurai endeavors, you might be surprised at his versatility in the FX/Fantasy genre; of which WHALE GOD is considered one of his finest works.

This review is representative of the Kadokawa R2 DVD. Specs and Extras: Anamorphic 2.35:1; original trailer; photo gallery; commentary; no English options.