domenica 30 giugno 2013

REVOLVER (Sergio Sollima, 1973)


"Society has many ways of defending itself: the red tape, prison bars, and the revolver"


Whilst offering a remarkable amount of gems deserving of notice, it can't be said that the Poliziottesco sub-genre (Italian crime films from the 70's) distinguishes itself for a large amount of works that your average critic would label as “great films”. This isn't necessarily a critique, being this a genre that has constantly embraced its own limitations and cliches with pride, more of an observation of its strong genre connotation: the homemade feeling that many of this films share is part of the appeal for fans, but will certainly keep the uninitiated at arms' length  That is why it's necessary to ease a newcomer's into the quirks of the genre by carefully picking the appropriate gateway films. Poliziotteschi are, in a way, similar to slasher movies: one would never try to convince a friend of their worth by going straight to something like,Just Before Dawn, without first giving a proper introduction to the genre's traits and moods using more widely appreciated (and undeniably better made) films such as Halloween, or Black Christmas.

Lucky for us, Revolver is an excellent entry point, offering a valid peek into the genre's most recurring themes in the context of a fantastic film, technically remarkable and graced with inspired performances, easily appreciable by anybody into hard edged 70's thrillers.


Prison warden Vito Cipriani receives a phone call from a man, with scrambled voice and everything, who informs him of the kidnapping of his wife. To get her back, he's demanded to free a certain Milo Ruiz, one of many guests in Cipriani's penitentiary. Taking a cue from his past as a hard nosed cop, he tries to punch the kidnapper's names out of the convict, without any result: ignorance, or reticence, forbids Ruiz from identifying whoever might want him free, thus forcing the lawman to stage a breakout in order to go along with the switch. The murder of a prominent oil tycoon, shown at the very beginning of the film, and the subsequent bogus fingering of Ruiz's now deceased best friend as the killer, clearly suggest that some sort of sinister conspiracy is at work. Cipriani and the mystified Ruiz are, naturally, forced to forge the most classic of unlikely alliances to make heads or tails out of what's going on.

Genre icon Fabio Testi plays the smart-mouthed ruffian Ruiz, leaving British titan Oliver Reed to play the increasingly desperate official. Predictably, his presence is a massive added value to the whole enterprise: Cipriani appears to be constantly on the verge of bursting into tears and/or strangling somebody. It's a reliably over the top performance from the master thespian, never one to leave the tiniest bit of scenery unchewed, but it's exactly this unhinged attitude, coupled with his ever imposing physicality, that makes Reed such an extraordinary presence in the film. Tales are told of his mighty boozing on the film's set, which might have helped to achieve this aura of overflowing desperation. He's a walking time bomb, in perennial contrast with the easy charm of his co-star Testi, who spends the whole film trying to keep up acting-wise with the british behemoth – and doing a damn fine job of it. The shaky relationship between Ruiz and Cipriani is the beating heart of the film: the two are natural opposites, forced to stick together despite their natural impulses. Their road to mutual trust is a bumpy one to say the least, and makes for a fascinating watch.


Apart from that, Revolver's strongest suit resides in the wisely paced revealing of the shady conspiracy at the film's core. The opening sequences give the viewer a certain advantage over the leads, showing rather clearly what kind of plot they're being suckered into; still, the script manages to hide as long as possible the identities of the antagonists, as well as their final objective. Even after these details are revealed the waters keep getting murkier with each passing minute, and figuring a way out is just as hard for us as it is for Cipriani and Ruiz. Every corner hides a trap, every meeting reveals a new foe, and any hopes of getting out clean of this whole shitstorm appear delusional at best. An all-consuming sense of dread permeates every second of the film, born out of the general distrust and fear that reigned over seventies Italy. An era, widely referred to as the “Years of Lead”, characterized by widespread political violence: imagine having left and right wing terrorism, rogue secret services, a corrupt government and foreign meddlers (hello, CIA!), all going at each other in the streets, with bombs exploding in crowded squares while everybody else tries to understand who of the above might be responsible for the last one. I definitely invite you to look it up, mostly because it's an incredibly fascinating – and fucking terrifying – time, but also because it offers precious context for that entire wave of Italian crime and political filmmaking: if you've ever wondered why poliziotteschi films often feel awfully angry, well, there's your answer. The entire last act of the film speaks volume about the absolute distrust towards authority widely felt during those years: without going into details as to avoid spoilers, I'll just say that, even by the standards of crushing pessimism that define 70's cinema, “Revolver” stands tall in the pantheon of punishingly bleak endings.


The great Sergio Sollima, a true institution of Italian genre filmmaking, directs with firm hand and little flash, scaling a bit back on the action (even though the requisite amount of shootouts, car chases and fisticuffs is duly met) in order to keep a tight focus on developing the relationship between Ruiz and Cipriani, conscious of the fact that every buddy picture lives and dies on the well realized chemistry between its two leads. Some just qualms are to be had in regards to the excessive running time, especially considering the presence of an honestly inexplicable sequence chronicling a bizarre hike on the Alps, taking place when our guys are forced to cross the border in the company of a smuggler The scene takes up little more than five minutes, but still manages to stop the film dead, offering no useful content and feeling completely out of tone. Despite all this, I don't really feel like detracting anything from such an otherwise fine film. An obligatory mention goes out to the killer score offered by the omnipresent master Ennio Morricone, who delivers a sweet main theme that, sadly, gets turned into the sappiest of ballads when a sung version is featured midway through the film. Oh well.


“Revolver” comes with my warmest recommendation It's a kickass work that stands tall amongst the best Italian crime pictures, while also looking the cream of the 70s American thriller straight in the eye, For full disclosure, let me point out that I based my review on the English dubbed version of the film, picked exclusively to enjoy Oliver Reed's performance in its original form – this things are always dubbed anyway, so might as well run with the preferred actor.

REVOLVER (aka Blood In the Streets)
Year: 1973
Genre: Poliziottesco
Country: Italy

Director: Sergio Sollima
Writers: Massimo De Rita, Antonio Mauro & Sergio Sollima
Starring: Oliver Reed, Fabio Testi, Paola Pitagora

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