Il venditore di morte (1971)

Dir: Lorenzo Gicca Palli
Star: Gianni Garko, Franco Abbina, Klaus Kinski, Gely Genka
a.k.a. Price of Death

A robbery of the local saloon turns lethal, resulting in the death of a saloon-girl and a bartender. Two of the three participants are also killed, but one escapes, and Chester Conway (Kinski) becomes the designated scapegoat. That’s convenient because he’s generally hated around town as a lothario, and few tears are shed as justice is swiftly dispensed – though more dispensed with – and Conway sentenced to hang. His lawyer, Jeff Plummer (Abbina) turns to the talents of Silver (Garko), a renowned bounty hunter, to try and prove his client’s innocence. But there are a lot of people in town very keen to keep the truth under wraps, and who will stop at nothing to ensure it does.

This is an interesting combination of Western and whodunnit, as if Agatha Christie had relocated to the Wild West. Unlike many such heroes, Silver uses smarts as much as his guns, which is a refreshing change. Some of his techniques are proto-forensic. For example, he uses bullet holes in clothing, to prove the two dead robbers were shot by their accomplice to ensure they couldn’t reveal anything. Later, he examines another corpse’s boots, in order to show he didn’t ride into town. Of course, he’s not averse to a bit of the old ultraviolence when necessary, but Silver at least tends to ask questions first and shoot later. Or when shot at, which happens quite a bit, as he gets closer to the truth.

The other main topic is the hypocrisy of the town’s supposedly “upstanding” citizens. It’s a kind of pragmatic, if also hypocritical morality, They turn their noses up at the moral decay which occurs at the saloon, with its hard liquor and loose women, yet understand it’s better to have it confined to a single location, and thus controlled. Naturally, the men of the town, even the local officials, have no hesitation in availing themselves of the saloon girls and their talents. It turns out even the madam in charge, Polly Winters (Genka), has a direct connection to one of the community’s leading lights – a connection which puts her in the cross-hairs too.

venditoreThis moral ambivalence is typical of the spaghetti Western, where it’s less black hats vs. white hats, than various shades of muddy grey facing off. Here, we have not-so-good guys pretending butter wouldn’t melt in their mouth, as well as a guy who is being framed and sent to the gallows, because of anti-social tendencies – yet, as the ending shows, Chester may not be entirely innocent either. Curiously, this was the second film I’ve seen, in relatively short order, where Kinski plays a man convicted of a murder he didn’t commit, following on from June’s Creature with the Blue Hand. It makes for an unusual casting against type, as we’re used to seeing Kinski as villainous characters, particularly in this kind of feature.

I’d like to have seem more of Chester’s back-story. In particular, how did he get to be so loathed by virtually the entire town, that framing him for murder is the almost universally-endorsed solution? I say “almost”, because Polly wants to save him from being hanged. However, this is purely so she can be the instrument of his destruction herself, since she seems to have been wronged by him worst of all. Though again, the specifics of his crimes are left non-specific, somewhat annoyingly. Conway takes a very back seat in the middle of the film, as after his swift trial and conviction, attention switches to Silver. Thereafter, Chester is largely reduced to yelling out the cell window. Which may be a good way to keep Kinski under control, thinking about it…

Still, this is one of those solidly satisfactory entities, which managed to retain my attention, even when Kinski wasn’t on-screen. This was the fourth and final time he would act alongside Garko, and the third spaghetti Western, after two “Sartana” entries. Though there’s not much “alongside” going on here, due to the plot which sees Silver only arrive after Crawford is already condemned. You may wonder about the opening sequence too, which depicts the assault and murder of a young woman, in a point-of-view shot which appears to have strayed in from a giallo film.

At first, I thought this was going to be the focus, especially after the victim’s parents show up and try to hire Silver. He spurns them, apparently believing they’re more interested in vengeance than justice, saying “You think it will make your daughter alive again?” It then seems to be forgotten by the film – and to be honest, I’d done so as well. Don’t make the same mistake, for it comes back with a vengeance, right at the end, to provide a coda which ties together Silver’s detecting and quick-draw skills.

It’s an unusual combination, and one I’m surprised hasn’t been used more often. The potential in a roaming gunslinger/detective is spectacular, and the results are an entertaining mash-up of two disparate genres, that works better than you might expect. Even without any further contribution from Klaus Kinski, I’m sorry this didn’t end up becoming a series of films featuring the Silver character. If there are any writers out there looking for an idea: you’re welcome for the nudge.

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