The Last Rebel (1971) review

THE LAST REBEL 1971

Joe Namath (Burnside Hollis), Jack Elam (Matt Graves), Woody Strode (Duncan), Ty Hardin (Sheriff), Victoria George (Pearl), Renato Romano (Virgil), Marina Coffa (Camelia), Annamaria Chio (Mademoiselle Dupres), Michael Forrest (Cowboy), Bruce Eweka (Black Boy), Jessica Dublin (Ruby)

Directed by Denys McCoy

The Short Version: Plotless and pointless, Denys McCoy's only major motion picture credit is in the running for worst western of all time. Starring an emotionally vapid Joe Namath, the film is so badly written, neither Elam nor Strode can wrangle the untamed script that is all over the place, lacking even a modicum of cohesion. Instead of focusing on a complicated three-way of two white Confederates and a black Union soldier the filmmakers surrender their credibility as quickly as General Lee does at the outset. Sadly, a potentially brilliant concept is thrown away in favor of lousy editing, interminable riding scenes and some of the most boring pool playing and gun fights to ever grace the screen. Making a Fidani oater almost bearable, the biggest difference between the two filmmakers is that Fidani, bewilderingly, had a longer career making crap. A Wild West Disaster Movie in the most literal sense.

On the Missouri battlefield in 1865 news comes that General Lee has surrendered in Virginia. Preferring freedom to a Federal prison, Burnside Hollis and his Reb friend Matt Graves make a run for it, steal some horses and head out to prospects unknown. Happening upon a Southern lynch mob about to stretch the neck of a black Union soldier named Duncan, Hollis and Matt save his skin. With no money, Graves decides they should rob a stagecoach; only the first one they cross paths with has two dead occupants and a single live one, a young lady. Heading into a nearby town, the men immediately rile the crooked sheriff. Meantime, the trio plan to hustle a pool shark to make an easy haul. Hollis wins big and gives $4,000 to Duncan for safe keeping and gives the rest to a pretty saloon whore desiring to pay off her debts. Incensed that Hollis didn't give him a cut of the take, Graves swears to get even. Hollis gets into a gunfight and skedaddles; Duncan becomes a father figure to an orphaned boy and Graves joins forces first with the Klan then the corrupt sheriff to get revenge. Finally trapping Hollis and Duncan inside Pearl's whorehouse, the two make a last stand against their former partner.

It's not entirely clear just what THE LAST REBEL is supposed to be about, or what it wants to say. The inebriated script (by Warren Kiefer, an American writer/director who sometimes used Italian pseudonyms on his films) never makes sense, never knows what it's doing, nor where it's going; the story meanders and stumbles from one scene to the next, occasionally puking up half-baked action scenes about as exciting as watching paint dry. The performers fare little better--either falling prey to bad editing or bad acting. 

 
Namath's lazy-eyed Hollis possesses this "oh, well" attitude towards everything. Never once convincing as a southern soldier, you'd think Broadway Joe wandered onto the set fresh off a football game. Other than presenting himself as a serial womanizer (that's a stretch!), there's no characterization, no insight into his persona.... nothing.

Ditto for the two accomplished actors, Jack Elam and Woody Strode; both of whom are wasted in a film that goes lame within minutes of hitting the trail. At least Elam is able to evoke cheap slivers of villainy from his casual use of the word 'nigger' and eventual, open antagonism towards Strode's Duncan.

Strode, sadly, doesn't come off much better. Much like Elam as a bad guy, he manages some slight audience sympathy as a good guy for taking an orphan under his wing. However, we never learn why he does it, or how the boy became abandoned in the first place. The film never bothers to explain anything; and speaking of abandonment, the film's biggest shame is its desertion of exploring racial matters at a time when the subject was topical. Further, it's unfortunate the results are so below average since the storyline holds a sincere amount of potential in its unlikely team-up of two white Rebs and a black Union soldier. 

In the 1969 western GUNS OF THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN there's some fascinating interplay between two of the Seven: a one-armed rebel gunslinger (played by Joe Don Baker) and a black gun fighter (played by Bernie Casey). Granted GOTM7 isn't exposition-heavy material, but it spends enough time on these two men--who initially have heat between them--becoming friends. In THE LAST REBEL, the main focus of the movie is built around such a relationship but the writers/producer/director ignore and squander the very prospects they are promoting.

Had they showcased Hollis growing to see past Duncan's skin color, whereby driving a wedge between his friendship with the highly prejudiced, grizzled Graves, we would of had a far more plausible, immersive, and coherent movie. Instead there's no evolution; Hollis may as well of not even been fighting for the south. He has zero defining characteristics and keeps the same drunken grin on his face from start to finish. Meanwhile, Graves is irrepressibly crude and Duncan's nearly indecipherable line readings give the impression scenes were removed. A missed opportunity by filmmakers who seem to think they'll find treasure by gold panning in a gravel pit. 

The first Spangler Pictures production, THE LAST REBEL was originally planned as a co-pro with Italy and Spain, but Spangler reportedly refused to replace some of his cast members in favor of European stars as per foreign quota requirements. Partnering instead with Glendinning Films, it's strictly an American affair, but with shooting taking place in the two aforementioned European countries.

Chaotic and sloppily put together, sources specify Spangler tried to salvage the film as best he could after a screening of a rough cut left a studio head feeling he'd just seen the worst "piece of shit" of his life.

Spangler, a friend of Namath and producer of THE JOE NAMATH SHOW (1969), produced and or directed a handful of Wild West adventures throughout the 1970s including the weird horror western KNIFE FOR THE LADIES (1974) and a few Fred Williamson adventures like the LEGEND and the SOUL of two NIGGER CHARLEY movies and JOSHUA (1976). 

Amazingly, for all its faults it would seem most everybody had a fantastic time making the picture. The late artist and filmmaker Rea Redifer worked on the script, and referred to the finished product in interviews as terrible, but had great fun working on it. Redifer had previously collaborated with director Denys McCoy (a nephew of famous painter Andrew Wyeth) on Western/Civil War documentaries so the subject was something he could relate to.

One person who worked on THE LAST REBEL who, despite his constant smiling, didn't find it a fun experience was its main star, Joe Namath.

In the late 60s, New York Jets quarterback Joe Namath was everywhere--in books, commercials, television programs--so it was a no-brainer some entrepreneurial producer would attempt to translate his massive popularity to Silver Screen leading man status. His first star turn in C.C. AND COMPANY (1970) was a spirited biker flick kept alive by Ann-Margret, William Smith and a gaggle of familiar Drive-in faces like Sid Haig, Jennifer Billingsley, Bruce Glover and Teda Bracci. Unfortunately, Namath's more experienced co-stars in THE LAST REBEL can't keep his performance on life support from the lack of character development and meaningless dialog.

Namath loved movies but didn't enjoy making them; feeling uncomfortable watching himself play a character and disliking the sound of his voice. This might explain why his acting style is expressively static with the breadth of emotional range limited to the intermittent grinning and line delivery that makes Richard Harrison look Oscar-worthy in comparison.

The wholly inappropriate rock score (reportedly the first film to feature one) by musician Tony Ashton and Deep Purple's Jon Lord is arguably the most interesting thing about the picture even if it makes about as much sense as anything else in the film. There are some good songs ('I'm Dying For You' and 'You, Me, and A Friend of Mine' being two examples) that, as ill-fitting as they are, make the picture bearable.

Shockingly, there are some good things in THE LAST REBEL (1971). One of them being the well built frame of blonde lovely Victoria George. Playing Hollis's saloon whore girlfriend, her standout moment is a sequence where she's seen wearing a diaphanous gown thinly disguising she's topless underneath.

There are a few nicely framed shots in the movie--the most striking being the last shot in the picture. The big, blandly filmed, blood-squib enhanced gun battle has left about a dozen men dead and Pearl's whorehouse in flames; Namath photographed in front of the burning building as Ashton/Lord's funk/jazz blares in the background makes for a fantastic image to close out a unanimously awful movie on.

One other bright spot is seeing Michael Forrest as the unnamed pool shark who gets hustled by Namath in the most boring game of pool ever captured on film. Forrest is familiar from old Roger Corman movies (ATLAS, VIKING WOMEN AND THE SEA SERPENT) and countless television programs; one of the more famous being his role as Apollo on the original STAR TREK. Forrest is also well known for his voice acting skills on dozens of Italian genre pictures--notably for being the chief dubber for famed Italian Tough Guy superstar, the late Maurizio Merli.

Released to scathing reviews, THE LAST REBEL was Namath's last major lead role. Probably for the best, a knee injury kept Namath from attending the film's Alabama premiere in 1971. Rarely discussed, it's understandably remained in obscurity for decades. A veritable train wreck from the first frame to the last, one of the genres worst has yet to surface on DVD anywhere in the world (this satellite airing is in widescreen). Devotees of Namath's football career will surely want to see it out of curiosity. Genre fans, on the other hand, are unlikely to derive any pleasure from viewing 90 minutes of tumbleweed tedium.

Charley-One-Eye (1973) review

CHARLEY-ONE-EYE 1973

Richard Roundtree (The Black Man), Roy Thinnes (The Indian), Nigel Davenport (The Bounty Hunter), Aldo Sambrell (Mexican driver), Officer's wife (Jill Pearson), Mexican Youth (Luis Aller), Mexican Leader (Rafael Albaicin)

Directed by Don Chaffey

The Short Version: One of the weirdest westerns ever made is this Grand Guignol Brit filth western starring an amazingly unhinged, ill-mannered Richard Roundtree hot off his heroic triple threat as John SHAFT (1971) and its two subsequent sequels. Beginning with a dog fight and ending with chickens being blasted into chicken nuggets, CHARLEY-ONE-EYE (the name of The Indian's one-eyed fowl friend) is a tale of the talky west; where distrust, hate and revenge rule; where crippled outcasts and deviants of the barren desert wasteland are misshapen, hostile, and uncivilized. Drenched in surrealism with an almost arthouse sensibility, Chaffey's downer western is about the complicated bonding between an uncouth deserter/murderer and a club-footed Indian and their encounters with a bounty hunter and angry Mexicans. British financed and shot in Spain, it feels like experimental filmmaking coming from the director of kid-friendly flicks like JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS (1963), ONE MILLION YEARS B.C. (1966), PETE'S DRAGON (1977) and C.H.O.M.P.S. (1979).

In 1866, Ben, a black Army soldier wanted for murdering a white officer after being caught in bed with his wife escapes into the Mexican desert and crosses paths with a crippled, half-breed Indian. Essentially taking the Indian captive, Ben berates and abuses the red man, forcing him to cook and cater to his every need. After an endless assault of verbal and mental abuse, the two outcasts learn to like each other. Eventually taking sanctuary in an abandoned church, they proceed to start new lives and raise chickens in seclusion. Danger manages to find them when a bounty hunter tracking Ben shows up and the two men incur the wrath of vengeful Mexican villagers.

CHARLEY-ONE-EYE is one of the damned weirdest westerns you're ever likely to see. An obscure entry in the filth style of oater that rode into movie theaters back in the 1970s, the atmosphere is so realistically grimy (aided immeasurably by the near-constant sound of buzzing flies), you can almost smell the aroma of body odor emanating off the screen. The virtually non-existent plot paints everybody as ugly, cruel, or crippled. At the center of it all is a celluloid treatise on the nature of man; in this case harmony vs. hatred--more the latter than the former. There are no heroes. Only villains... and, in the case of one major character, the slow transformation from pacifism to aggression.

What's curious about CHARLEY-ONE-EYE is in the casting of Richard Roundtree as Ben (or, as the end credits list him, The Black Man), a character who wouldn't win any awards for social graces. It's a startling performance and Roundtree is superb, even if he's about as genial as a desert rattlesnake. Roundtree was trying to escape the shadow of SHAFT (1971), afraid of being pigeonholed in the same type of role over and over again. There was supposed to have been some four more adventures of the screens first black private eye, but Roundtree wanted to change his career path and pursue greener pastures. Unfortunately, some of those pastures produced little crop. CHARLEY-ONE-EYE was one such production.

One of the first motion pictures of British TV producer David Frost's Paradine Productions (distributed in America by Paramount), filming began in Almeria, Spain on May 27th, 1972. Following Italy's lead in presenting the grittiness of the genre, the Italians had already switched to doing western comedies by this time. Don Chaffey's curio transcends them all, foregoing action and comedy, turning into something akin to Jodorowsky's EL TOPO (1970) with various symbolism and religious iconography. For example, one important sequence late in the picture occurs inside a church. The two friends make bets on their marksmanship using an effigy of Jesus Christ as their target. It comes back to haunt one of them at the end via symbolic use of the cross. Italy had its own existential style to their westerns so CHARLEY-ONE-EYE shares kinship with that breed.

Standing out like a sore thumb on the resume of Don Chaffey, seeing a dark parable on the despondence of man from the guy who gave you lively, upbeat fare like JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS (1963) and Raquel Welch among the dinosaurs in ONE MILLION YEARS B.C. (1966) is an eye-opening experience. Known primarily for fantasy and kids movies, Chaffey seems an odd choice for the material; he nonetheless turns in surprisingly provocative results in comparison to other directors working with similar subject matter. Chaffey's last theatrical work was the AIP kiddie favorite, C.H.O.M.P.S. (1979). From there his career was dominated by numerous television programs.

In keeping with CHARLEY's doom-laden quirkiness, Keith Leonard's script doesn't even give its characters names--although Roundtree states early on his name is Ben. The credits refer to each character as simply, 'The Black Man', 'The Indian', or 'The Bounty Hunter'. If the movie weren't already strange enough, the film's title is the name of The Indian's pet chicken. Thick with dour characterization, your tolerance for dialog will come into play as to whether you're able to endure CHARLEY-ONE-EYE or not. It's not a shoot'em up in the traditional sense, but an allegory that at times is difficult to discern.

Going back to the characters, Roundtree's Ben is the polar opposite of John Shaft. A thoroughly unlikable and ignominious man; there's nothing noble about him at all. The first time we see him he steals a dead, partially eaten animal away from two starving dogs fighting over it. How he got there is revealed shortly thereafter in a flashback. Ben is caught in bed with the wife of his commanding officer. Naturally things don't end well and the walls get a new coat of red before he makes his escape into the desert. When Ben runs into The Indian, he basically takes him captive and treats him like a slave--sarcastically referring to him as 'Geronimo' or 'Sitting Bull' when he isn't calling him 'boy' and other forms of mental torture. The Indian gets a bit of payback, though, when Ben sprains his ankle during his mock-fest and can't walk on his own.

"I never seen... crippled nigger before...", says The Indian just before cackling madly. After another series of stereotype jousting and further emotional battles, the two men formulate a bizarre friendship that eventually molds itself into something resembling trust between them. Roy Thinnes is a showstopper as The Indian with a bad leg. Virtually unrecognizable, his makeup is extraordinary, giving him an unkempt look to his face and hands. It's in stark contrast to his inner self. It would appear The Indian, a half-breed, has been an outcast for a lengthy period of time. He can't make a bow and arrow and probably never even knew his name. His non-exposure to humankind has served his passive nature well, though. Unfortunately, by the end of the movie he angrily accepts his heritage and joins the rest of the world in its obsession with violence.

I've no idea what Keith Leonard had in mind when writing the script, nor why the film is named after a disfigured chicken. Having no friends in the world, The Indian, who also has a disfigurement, is immediately taken with the bird upon discovering it on the wagon of an old farmer they find dead on the trail. Things begin to look up for this eccentric trio till a bounty hunter tracking Ben finds them. Nigel Davenport instills the proper amount of villainy that manages to create some sympathy for Roundtree's unsympathetic character. The film becomes even darker with back-to-back moments of shock value; especially in the last moments with Thinnes' Indian ultimately embracing the low ebb of the human race.

 

Prejudice is the only shared equality found in CHARLEY-ONE-EYE. Everybody hates everybody. Ben, as he puts it, doesn't understand honkies; he hates them, bragging about being "paid to kill white folks" in the Army ("I'd of done it for nothin'!"); Thinnes' wandering pariah just wants to be left alone but eventually learns what hatred is; Nigel Davenport's gruff bounty killer has an obvious disdain for blacks judging by his colorful verbiage; fiercely tribal, the Mexicans will rob you and kill you, plain and simple.

Italian western fans will spot perennial bad guy Aldo Sambrell (at left in above insert) in a small role as a Mexican who tries to rob both Ben and his lame-legged pal.

 

With lots of closeups and few wide shots, the colors are drab as seen through the lenses of Kenneth Talbot's camera. The impenetrably burnt, dried out palette suits the claustrophobic tone of the movie so perfectly you can almost feel the heat and cracked earth crumbling beneath the actors' feet.

The music of John Cameron (PSYCHOMANIA [1973]) is as idiosyncratic as anything else in the picture. It's nothing particularly memorable, nor should you expect anything familiar to traditional westerns of US or Italian pedigrees.

CHARLEY-ONE-EYE was released to DVD in the UK in a fullscreen presentation in 2012. The running times vary (the DVD lists 84 minutes while other sources show 96 minutes) but this satellite airing runs 1:47:01. The film has yet to surface in America on any format.

Oppressively negative from beginning to end, Chaffey's bizarre stab at the genre is in a class by itself. Aside from Thinnes' peculiar, effective portrayal, it is Richard Roundtree who shines through Chaffey's cinematic cesspool. If you're a fan, you'll either be shocked by his performance or impressed by his versatility. Likely prone to divisive opinions as much today as it was back then, CHARLEY-ONE-EYE (1973) probably won't find much of an audience today, either. Akin to its main characters, the film is an outcast among other defeatist westerns of the era; strangely, that is one of its strengths, too.