almost human

THE FLICKS: With the Italian Giallo and Spaghetti Western genres making a big dent in the cult DVD industry, newcomers No Shame films are making a strong case for the inclusion of Italian poliziottesci – crime pics inspired by gritty American imports like French Connection and The Godfather – in fans’ collections. First up is Almost Human (1974) starring Tomas Milian in a Scarface-style story of a bottom-feeding criminal who hatches a kidnapping scheme that will earn him the money and respect his deranged ego so desperately craves. Milian, an Actor’s Studio grad, always invests his roles with a dangerous amount of energy. And as Guilio Sacchi he finds a role that matches his over-the-top talents, with a healthy dash of Pacino envy to play-out onscreen (indeed, Pacino’s own Tony Montana in Brian DePalma’s Scarface could be Guilio’s Italian half-brother). A petty crook who graduates from stealing quarters from phone booths to slaughtering an entire family, Guilio’s kidnapping of a rich industrialist’s daughter is merely the plot mechanism used by screenwriter Ernesto Gastaldi and director Umberto Lenzi to set-off the character’s progressively more psychotic behavior. The motivations may be questionable (Guilio’s intro as a nervous coward doesn’t seem gel with his overnight criminal confidence), but the film is relentless in its attempt to shock, offend, and scare you into wondering just how far past the edge is will go. Lenzi’s staging of a mid-film massacre where Guilio guns down a family of innocent witnesses he’s hung from a chandelier is an exercise in exploitation cinema mastery. And his eventual downfall is an echo of all the other Hollywood gangsters that crawled out of the gutter, only to die there with inescapable B-movie ironic justice. Well-acted and executed on almost every level – don’t forget Ennio Morricone’s determined score – Almost Human is easy to recommend, although sometimes hard to watch. The more entertaining film is director Sergio Martino’s Gambling City (1974), which follows card shark playboy Luca (deftly portrayed with wit and weight by Luc Merenda) through the Milan underworld of illegal gambling. Securing a position as a dealer, Luca plays the wrong hand when he pursues the girlfriend of the boss’s son, who then pursues the couple with deadly vengeance. With a recurring musical score reminiscent of The Sting’s ragtime title tune, Gambling City takes a much more brutal path than the Newman/Redford match-up, with countless beatings, one near-rape and a tragic ending. In other words, it’s a very typical Italian genre entry of the 70’s, made with atypical quality. Martino and DP Giancarlo Ferrando’s visuals are beautifully imagined, with elegantly framed compositions set against high-energy chase scenes that have a vibrancy few current Hollywood productions could match. The contrast plays out in Ernesto Gastaldi’s script as well, jumping from playful scenes of Luca’s card playing skills to truly shocking moments of violence. Luca’s brutal beating meant to cripple his abilities comes only 40-minutes into the film (something most screenwriters would have saved for a third-act comeback), making the story structure almost completely unpredictable...yet with a familiar genre-twist. THE FEATURES: No Shame has styled themselves as a Criterion-caliber producer of films Criterion wouldn’t touch. Each release features liner notes that mark the film’s place in Italian cinema history. And the transfers themselves are immaculate – the kind of blemish-free image you only see from the best in the business. Almost Human includes two long-form documentaries. Like a Beast...Almost focuses mostly on co-star Ray Lovelock and his relationship with Milian. No offense to the actor, but his stilted conversation style and uninteresting anecdotes make for a very long 37 minutes. Brief comments from director Umberto Lenzi are more targeted to the film itself, but his sound bites are few and far between. Milian Unleashed is much more satisfying. The actor sits down for a 30-minute conversation about his role in the film, which he considers one of his finest performances. And engaging speaker, Milian dishes the dirt on who did his on-screen dubbing (the same guy that dubbed Pacino’s American imports) and his intense lovemaking scene with Anita Strindberg that resulted in injury. Trailers and a poster/still gallery finish things up. Gambling City has its own 20-minute doc entitled Chatting with the Cheaters, but aside from learning about DP Fer”Rambo”’s penchant for extreme risks in the line of duty (he once went head over heels off a motorcycle while shooting footage) the piece is seriously lacking in the expected production facts. A commentary with actor Luc Merenda (in English with an overly excited moderator) does a better job of breaking down the film on a scene-by-scene basis. The disc also includes trailers and a poster gallery. No Shame has done a fantastic job with these two features; it’s the extras that need a little more style to their substance.