Django (1966)

"You can clean up the mess, but don't touch my coffin.", 5 April 2006

Django is the film that turned me on to Spaghetti Westerns beyond those made by Sergio Leone. From the moment I saw Franco Nero dragging that coffin through the mud, I was a fan. And it's lost nothing regardless of how many times I see it. Django is ultra-cool, ultra-violent, and way over-the-top. What the film lacks in originality, it more than makes up for with some of the sweetest set-pieces the genre has to offer. Take the scene where Django finally opens that ever present coffin. The sight of Django mowing down dozens of red-masked baddies is one of those moments I watch movies for. The direction, acting, music, locations, and just about everything else you can name are dead-on perfect as far as I'm concerned.

My only real complaint, and this really has nothing to do with Sergio Corbucci or Nero, is the dubbing. The voice used for Django is about as lifeless as they come. Even in the most exciting of moments, that monotone voice never waivers.

Django is one of the examples I use when discussing the genius of Corbucci and his place in the history of the genre. I've often argued that if it weren't for Leone, Corbucci would be known as the Father of the Spaghetti Western. His films like Django, The Great Silence, Companeros, and The Hellbenders are required viewing for fans of Spaghetti Westerns.

9/10