WE CONTINUE OUR SERIES OF REPORTS FROM OUR CORRESPONDENT JOHN
EXSHAW'S DIARY FROM THE RECENTLY CONCLUDED VENICE INTERNATIONAL FILM
FESTIVAL.
Having crawled into bed at 5:30 a.m., the prospect of being
back on the Lido for the 8:30 a.m. screening of Takashi Miike’s ‘Sukiyaki
Western Django’ rather lacked appeal, to put it mildly, so I resigned myself to
the usual routine of four litres of espresso and a stint in the press room
prior to collapsing into a seat for the 4:30 p.m. showing of Franco Giraldi’s
‘Sugar Colt’ (1966). It came as a surprise to find Giraldi himself in
attendance, having heard earlier in the week that he “wasn’t well†– a rather
ominous phrase when applied to a man in his mid-seventies (and one that was
also used to describe Sergio Sollima’s condition when he was unable to attend ‘The Big
Gundown’). But there he was, sporting a crutch and a slight hobble, but
otherwise in fine fettle.
The film’s star, Hunt Powers (real name, Jack Betts – any
relation to Tom Betts of ‘Westerns… all’italiana!’ magazine, one idly wonders?)
had already told how he landed the part of Sugar Colt at the second Spaghetti
Western Round Table, but that didn’t stop him telling it again. Here’s how it
goes: “I was on my home, in California, when I decided to call my agent. He
told me he’d gotten a call from Franco Giraldi about the leading role in a film
called ‘Sugar Colt’ Do you ride a horse? he asked. For years, I told him. I’m a
superb equestrian. Do you shoot? Indeed I do, and have in fact won many
sharpshooting contests. Can you be in Rome in two weeks? You bet your ass I
can! I then called John Wayne and told him I needed to learn how to ride and
shoot in two weeks. Duke told me to come out to his ranch, and his head
wrangler taught me everything he could. I’ve never told Franco that story till
now, so I guess I did all right.â€
‘Sugar Colt’, whose screenwriters included Sandro Continenza
and Fernando Di Leo, proves to be a rather uneven film, part revenge Western
and part comedy, with a dash of spy film thrown in for good measure. Tom
Cooper, a former undercover agent codenamed Sugar Colt, is approached by one Pinkerton
(presumably old Allan himself) and asked to assist in solving a case in which
some 150 Union sharpshooters had disappeared in mysterious circumstances at the
end of the Civil War. Cooper, now the dandifyied owner of a ladies’ shooting
academy, refuses, but changes his mind almost immediately when Pinkerton is
gunned down in the street. Disguising himself as a doctor, Sugar Colt travels
to Snake Valley to crack the case . . .
If the script of ‘Sugar Colt’ proves to be a bit wobbly, the
same cannot be said of Franco Giraldi’s direction, which is remarkably assured,
with good, clean composition and impressive use of landscape throughout. Powers
plays his part well enough, though his uncanny and extremely unfortunate
resemblance to pop star Robbie Williams, right down to the same smarmy
expressions and narcissistic posing, is highly distracting. Not his fault,
perhaps, but is smarminess really a quality one wants in a Western hero?
Soledad Miranda, Jess Franco’s ill-fated muse, shines in her role as Josefa,
and is ably supported by Gina Rovere as her Aunt Bess. In one amusing sequence,
after Josefa has been overcome by some gas released by Sugar Colt (don’t ask),
Rovere, instead of delivering the expected slap to help her regain her senses,
cold-cocks her with a beautifully-delivered straight right to the face. Also in
the cast, glimpsed briefly as one of Cooper’s clients in the shooting academy,
is Mara Krup, well-remembered as the hotel owner’s wife who drools over No Name
in ‘For a Few Dollars More’. The remarkably annoying theme tune by Luis
EnrÃquez Bacalov, which usually has me reaching for the skip button on my CD
player, is thankfully underemployed. It’s also interesting to note that the
name ‘Sugar Colt’, which sounds pretty odd to English-speaking viewers, sounds
even odder when uttered by Italian-speaking actors.
Afterwards, I managed to get Giraldi’s attention for all of
two minutes. Not knowing he was going to be there, I had no sensible questions
prepared, and found myself saying something inane about his use in ‘Sugar Colt’
of Carlo Simi’s El Paso set from ‘For a Few Dollars More’. “Ah,†he said, “Very
good. You have a very sharp eye.†Which was nice of him, of course, though in
truth you’d have to be Tony Anthony’s title character in ‘Blindman’ not to spot
it. I then complimented him on his direction of ‘Sugar Colt’. “It’s not
perfect, not all,†he replied. “It is, I think, very naïve. But there are
things I like. . . . I have not seen it for years.†He agreed that Miranda was
good, adding “but she died very young.†And that was the end of another
sensational, in-depth interview.