Commandos (1968)

Sgt. Frank Rock and "the combat-happy Joes" of Easy Company (with nicknames such as Bulldozer, Ice Cream Soldier, Wildman, and so on) were created in 1959 by writer Bob Kanigher and artist Joe Kubert for DC Comics' Our Army At War #83 (though the Rock character had existed in a couple different variations going all the way back to that January's G.I. Combat #68). It's been debated that Bob Haney wrote the first appearance of the Rock in Our Army At War #81, drawn by Ross Andru and Mike Esposito, but that was more an early model for what would come shortly. Most, if not all, of the Sgt. Rock stories center on the eponymous character either teaching an object lesson (typically to a new member of Easy Co., where "nothin' ever comes easy") or being taught one (typically by a new member of Easy Co.). Rock liked being a sergeant. He liked being in the field with his grunts. He disdained desk jockey officers, and often pushed them to the point of flagrant insubordination. These tales can be a bit one-note, especially when read back to back, but let's face it; they were never intended that way, and for a kid rummaging through the comics at the local corner store, they were straight from heaven. With that in mind, I would like to simply say rest in peace and thank you to Mr. Kanigher and Mr. Kubert. You made it look easy.

The year is 1942. A ragtag group of soldiers have been gathered under Sgt. Sullivan (Lee Van Cleef) and his right hand man Dino (Romano Puppo) to execute the plan of Captain Valli (Jack Kelly). The Captain's "Operation: Torch" calls for the men to quietly take over an oasis in Africa currently occupied by the Italian army in the service of Germany's Army Corps Africa, where oil wells have been tapped to keep the enemy's Panzers on the move. The men put on happy faces and take in the Germans, including Oberleutnants Rudi (Götz George) and Heitzel (Joachim Fuchsberger, billed as Akim Berg), while trying to keep the remaining Italians, led by Lt. Tomassini (Marino Masé), from escaping and putting the sprags to the whole mission and maybe even losing the war for the Allies (okay, not really). 

At its core, Commandos (aka Sullivan's Marauders) is director Armando Crispino's Macaroni Combat cash-in on The Dirty Dozen. However, the script (co-written by Dario Argento from a story by Menahem Golan) takes some noticeable (and in its own way, distinctly Italian) departures from the American model. The set up requires the American soldiers to be fluent in Italian to pull off the sham (essentially a play on the Battle of the Bulge, where German soldiers masqueraded as Americans), but here the soldiers are generally indistinct from one another. There is no Franko, no Wladislaw, not even a Vladek. These men are a group, and aside from the more senior characters, it's difficult to tell them from the enemy. The only real exception to this is Aldo (Giampiero Albertini), who plays an integral part in the finale and summation of the film. It seems to me a shame to waste such talented character actors as Puppo and Pier Paolo Capponi, but there you have it. I suppose their colorful faces were enough for the filmmakers (and it should be said there's a certain value in that, as well).

Sullivan dislikes officers, as most cinematic non-coms are wont to do, but his animosity reaches levels of outright insubordination and physical menace that would have any other soldier shot. He has his reasons, of course, but his initial confrontation with Valli feels misplaced and uncalled for, at best. So of course, Sullivan will be proved correct. What's frustrating is the amount of vacillation that goes on with Sullivan wanting to alternately kill Valli and carry out his orders. It can be argued that this was intentional; an attempt to show the conflict taking place inside the sergeant, but the way it's handled by Crispino, it comes across as a matter of convenience. When it makes for dramatic conflict, Sullivan will defy Valli, and when it's time to kill Nazis, they're pals.

This defiance extends from Sullivan's back story. As a character, he is emotionally damaged; quasi-psychotic, even. He blames his traumatic experience on an officer who was willing to sacrifice his men to get commendations for himself. At multiple points, Sullivan becomes bloodthirsty, wanting to slay everything in his path. He projects his past onto the present, and in his mind, he is taking revenge for what happened not only to him but also to his platoon, which we must assume included at least a few close friends (of which we know Dino is definitely one). But there's a difference between sacrificing oneself and being sacrificed. Sullivan knows the difference. Valli does not, and while the end has a reconciliation of a sort between the two men (as it must for this type of film), it feels superficial and tenuous. Perhaps a non-resolution of the tensions between the men could have made for a more nuanced conclusion; a more realistic depiction of the eternal relationship between those who lead and those who are lead (the man on the ground understands the relationship perfectly, while the one above him can't grasp it on account of his perspective and distance from his subordinates, necessary or not). The filmmakers' representation of this, however, lacks the definition needed to provide a solid sense of closure by film's end. 

The production value of the film is quite high, and the film (an Italian and German co-production) puts every penny up on the screen. Crispino shows a deft hand at directing large-scale action (the most important aspect of which is maintaining a sense of space, I would argue), and the battle scenes are great to watch. He fills the frame when appropriate and focuses on individual acts when appropriate. By that same token, the director also shows an aptitude for directing the stealthy, quieter scenes which generate the suspense on which the entire film is structured. The acting is solid all-around, though it does veer off into the overwrought at several points (but let's face it; that's half the fun). Also of interest is the film's score by Mario Nascimbene, which consists largely of variations on Franz Liszt's Totentanz (aka Dance Of The Dead) and provides a layer of both foreshadowing as well as a bit of punctuation on the film. So, while the film is nothing all that original, it does have enough European flourishes to make it interesting for casual viewers and cinephiles alike. My recommendation is for you to commandeer Commandos for yourself and give it a spin (see what I did there?).

MVT: The whole movie is loaded not only with tense scenes but also with an air of tension overall. Crispino and company manage to make it just bearable enough to sustain interest, without becoming off-putting and stale.

Make Or Break: The Make is the scene when a certain soldier buries another soldier (I'm trying not to give away anything here). It doesn't quite attain heights of heart-string-pluckery, but it is effective. It also illustrates the film's larger theme slightly better than the very end, which was well-played but felt more like an afterthought than anything else, to me. 

Score: 6.5/10
 

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The Octagon (1980)

Directed by Eric Karson.

Ninjas, terrorists, assassins, and mercenaries. Where do I start? How about with Scott James (Chuck Norris) - a retired World Karate Champion who's approached by an heiress (Karen Carlson) regarding a potential job as her bodyguard, but is subsequently lured into a dangerous situation involving terrorists who are being trained at a Ninja training camp called The Octagon by his estranged Japanese half-brother, Seikura (Tadashi Yamashita). Iconic tough-guy actor Lee Van Cleef plays McCarn - a militant rightist who leads a group of American mercenaries in a battle against terrorism, so you can bet he comes into play somehow when the shit goes down.

Once Scott realizes that there are Ninjas running around (the Ninja were thought to have been a long-forgotten thing of the past, mind you), he spends a good chunk of the movie trying to find them with hopes that he can infiltrate their training camp, but seeing as they're Ninjas after all (ie. stealth and hard to find), his search becomes complicated. That is, until he meets and teams up with a woman named Aura (Carol Bagdasarian), who actually trained at The Octagon and later deflected from the group of terrorists. Aura's an interesting character in that there weren't a lot of women being portrayed as tough, female-Rambo type characters in mainstream American cinema at the time. Considering THE OCTAGON was written by a woman, it's safe to assume that this strong female character was no accident.


Not to jump the gun or anything, but I did like THE OCTAGON a lot. However, it's not to say that the film is without flaws and mind-boggling WTF moments. First of all, one thing I never understood about the heiress character, who attempted to hire Chuck Norris as her bodyguard, is why she was a big deal in the first place. She was obviously so important that people apparently wanted her dead, or were at least willing to go out of their way to threaten her, but it turns out that she only inherited a publishing company. According to this woman, she started receiving threats because people wanted her to change certain editorial policies. Huh? I'm sure I must have missed something, but I went back a couple of times to learn more about her and still couldn't find anything. Also, actress Karen Carlson has a few scenery-chewing moments in the film which are quite amusing.


Another strange element to the film, or rather an odd trait of its lead protagonist, is that Chuck Norris's character hears voices. Well, just his own voice, but it almost comes across as this hidden psychic ability that he's tapped into. Throughout the film we hear Scott's thoughts out loud, but we hear them as these really slow whispers with some sort of creepy vocal effect added on, and sometimes his thoughts even warn him of impending danger, which we see during the film's initial Ninja attack (a WTF sequence in and of itself). But perhaps the most unusual thing about film is its structure. The plot tends to jump around on numerous occasions, which is fine and somewhat interesting in terms of how non-linear it is for a presumably accessible Action movie, but what's frustrating is how the characters are established. More often than not, someone will be introduced and you're not quite sure what it is exactly that this person does in the big scheme of things, but then it ultimately (and gradually) makes sense as the story unfolds. Don't get me wrong, I love movies that don't insult their audience's intelligence and feel the need to explain everything, but in this movie's case, it was kinda confusing at times.

As far as the eponymous Octagon, there are certain things about it that are a bit silly, but for the most part it's also quite fascinating in terms of how it looks and how it ultimately comes into play during the film's third act. And what I mean by "silly" is that the terrorists who show up there to train are the most un-Ninja group of people I've ever seen, for lack of a better term. Most of Seikura's trainees look like a bunch of hicks and ex-cons, and it becomes quite obvious not long after they're introduced that most of them don't know how to fight. Overseeing the training with Seikura and is this film's Boba Fett: a crimson-hooded Ninja named Kyo (shown on the film's poster). Played by Aussie actor/stuntman Richard Norton, Kyo is a silent character who occasionally steps out of the shadows to discipline some of the more lackluster trainees at The Octagon. In one scene, he disarms a froggy student and turns his own weapon against him in the blink of an eye. According to director Eric Karson, he slowed the footage of this scene down during production, watched it frame by frame, and was still unable to figure out how Norton did this maneuver so quickly.


Make or Break Scene: Easily the fight scene involving Richard Norton (as Kyo) and Chuck Norris towards the end of the film. Honestly, it looks a bit too choreographed at times, but nonetheless it still looks really good. One of the reasons I love this fight scene as much as I do is how long it's drawn out. Kyo is basically a "mini-boss" of sorts and another obstacle that Chuck Norris has to get through before he faces Seikura, but the scene is treated as if Norton's character were the main villain in the film. What sealed the deal was the impressive fire stunt at the end of the scene.

MVT: Chuck Norris. It's gotta be Chuck. He roundhouse-kicks Ninjas into oblivion in the film, and he also played an important role behind the scenes with the fight choreography and stunts along with his brother Aaron (who also stars a small part in the film).

Score: 6.5/10

THE OCTAGON leaves much to be desired when it comes to pacing, and, as I said earlier, it can be confusing at times and a little hard to follow, but the Ninja aspect of the film makes it unique in terms of Chuck Norris's filmography at the time, and it also provides for a great aesthetic (seriously, how could you not love Ninjas?). Ominous hooded figures running around at night and leaping out of the shadows is much more interesting than seeing a bunch of plain-clothed henchmen hopping out of pick-up trucks. If you happen to check out the Trinity Home Entertainment DVD, there's a surprisingly in-depth talking-head featurette on the making of the film, which I highly recommend checking out (after you've seen the film).

Day of Anger (1967)

Directed by: Tonino Valerii

Starring: Lee Van Cleef, Giuliano Gemma

This spaghetti western centers on Clifton City's young and feeble push-around outcast known only as Scott (Giuliano Gemma). The self-proclaimed good people of Clifton City treat Scott like a slave, smacking him around, ridiculing him and forcing him to do all the dirty work such as dispensing with buckets of poop juice from the outhouse. Apparently, the townsfolk abuse Scott because he's the bastard son of a town whore, who died when Scott was so young that he never even learned his real last name. This explains those rare Region 7 video import releases with the alternate title The Man With No Surname.

Scott can do little more than take the abuse. He has few friends, and those friends -- a brothel madame, local drunk, his shabby donkey Sartana and elderly father figure and former sheriff Murph -- are not in any position to help him out of this situation. That is, until, ruthless gunfighter Frank Talby (Lee Van Cleef) arrives in Clifton City and takes Scott under his wing. He teaches Scott to stand up for himself, buys him his first gun and even gives Scott a last name; Mary, the name of his passed away mother. It takes a genuine badass to pull off a name like Scott Mary. From here, their relationship delves into master and apprentice as Talby teaches Scott the 9 Rules of a Gunfighter:

1. Never beg another man.

2. Never trust anyone.

3. Never get between a gun and its target.

4. Punches are like bullets. Make the first ones count or you're finished.

5. If you wound a man, you better kill him or he'll kill you.

6. Use the right bullet at the right time.

7. Before you untie a man, take his gun first.

8. Don't give a man any more bullets than he has use for.

9. Sometimes you have to accept a challenge or you'll lose everything in the end, anyway.

While these sentiments may sound hatched from Old West fortune cookies, they're an accurate checklist for gunfighter survival. Talby adds a 10th rule in the final showdown ("Once you start killing, you can't stop").

Talby's true motive is to collect a $50,000 debt owed to him by his former partner, Wild Jack, for a robbery they pulled prior to his ten year prison stint. As it turns out, some of the so-called honest citizens of Clifton City swindled Wild Jack out of this haul. We discover these are the most powerful men in town -- the judge, the banker and the saloon owner. With Scott's help (and fueled by vengeance), Talby rapidly takes over Clifton City by deadly force and blackmailing these men with the secret of their thievery.

Scott happily serves as Talby's gun-toting lapdog until old Murph voices concerns, claiming Talby's corrupting Clifton City and making a good town go bad. Evidently, Clifton City somehow defines "good" as harassing an orphan, stealing large sums of money and blasting rock salt into the local drunk's ass for pitching stones into empty glass bottles. Seems the town's better off with Talby to me, but who am I to question Murph? Murph eventually stands against Talby alone, leaving Scott to choose between his old life and his new one.

The real strength of the film lies in Van Cleef and Gemma's casting and performances. They perfectly compliment one another in the master-protege template. Van Cleef looks haggard, surely and savvy whereas Gemma is fresh-faced, good-natured and naive. Their careers nicely contrast as well; at this stage, Gemma is a new star to spaghetti westerns coming off the highly successful Ringo films compared to Van Cleef as a well-established veteran star of the genre thanks to his legendary work on Sergio Leone's Dollars films. Van Cleef brings instant credibility and a likable villainy that few, if any, others could as believably deliver and impress upon Gemma's naturalistic innocence and eagerness.

Day of Anger was directed by another spaghetti western staple, Tonino Valerii, who previously directed A Taste For Killing and thereafter helmed the more well known comedy western My Name s Nobody. As a former Leone assistant, Valerii displays numerous Leoneseque qualities, so much so that you could envision Day of Anger as a pre-Dollars trilogy Leone picture. Immediately, you'll notice Leone signatures in the set design that primarily re-purpose Dollars trilogy locations. The stone circle from the final showdown in For A Few Dollars More makes a cameo. In addition to Van Cleef, Valerii utilizes Leone regulars, Al Murdock (The Good, The Bad & The Ugly, Once Upon a Time in the West), in the role of Talby's former partner, Wild Jack and Benito Stefanelli (Dollars trilogy) in the role of Owen, the killer hired to oust Talby.

What sets Day of Anger apart is the progression of the characters, a rarity for the Spaghetti Western. Here, we witness Scott Mary evolve from a picked-on garbage boy simpleton to a feared gunslinger on confidence overload. Talby's stature grows immensely, transforming from a snarling gunman into a calculative political overlord. The film is also crafted with subtle character beats that are more informative than the surface level may indicate. For instance, when Talby purchases Scott's first gun, he deliberately steers him away from shorter barrels better suited for fast draws toward a much larger long barrel firearm that's less efficient. The implication set is that Talby has slyly built an advantage for himself against Scott if a showdown occurred.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that spaghetti westerns were a discussion topic on a recent GGTMC episode, specifically as to which actor symbolizes the genre. If I recall correctly, the vote favored Clint Eastwood. I agree with this, but I must say that Lee Van Cleef nearly steals the crown for me. When I think of spaghetti westerns, the Man With No Name pops to mind, but when I think Eastwood? I don't always think of the Dollars films, sometimes it's Dirty Harry or maybe Clint the Director, etc. When I think about Lee Van Cleef? I always think of a spaghetti western. It's kind of similar to a sports franchise where maybe Eastwood is immortalized as the MVP for a championship reign then moved on to other teams, but Van Cleef is the beloved fan favorite by playing his entire career for the same team.

Despite Lee Van Cleef's presence, Day of Anger has remained a hidden gem amongst spaghetti westerns. It has risen in notoriety in recent years due to Quentin Tarantino (who else?) playing the film at one of his QT film fests in Austin and listing it as his 7th favorite Spaghetti Western of all time. If you're a fan of the genre, Day of Anger won't measure up to the big four Leone films, but I think you'll find Valerii's picture deservedly ranks with the best non-Leone spaghettis ever made.

Make or Break scene - In an early scene, Talby invites Scott to have a drink at the saloon, but Scott's soon threatened by a rowdy bar patron who Talby guns down in Scott's defense. This scene makes the film as it gives you a reason to like Talby and understand why Scott would follow him. It builds goodwill for Talby that allows one to dismiss his misdeeds and really feel Scott's struggle in choosing a side between Talby and Murph at the film's climax. Plus, by this point, you despise the citizens of Clifton City and you're ready for a little vengeance to be dealt.

MVT - Giuliano Gemma. The entire film hinges on Gemma's performance and the man comes through. If you don't believe his character's change then the film just does not work. Further to this, Gemma does not simply flip the switch from weak to strong, good to bad, but rather he manages to somehow retain this unique boyish wholesomeness after becoming a vengeful killer, always reminding you where this darker persona grew from originally, something like a blood thirsty kid in a candy store. The performance makes one re-consider an earlier scene where Scott childishly practices his quick draw with a wooden gun held by a rope holster as not a goofball example of his poverty, but rather a darkly insight into a young man's mind hellbent on the day when he'll have his revenge.

Score: 8.25/10