A Reason to Live, a Reason to Die

The spaghetti western sub-genre might have grown rancid by this period, but there are no doubts their titles were striking and creative, when which said simply rolled of your tongue. Tell me that this title isn't a lyrical joy. No stranger to the sub-genre with "My Name is Nobody" and "Day of Anger", director Tonino Valerii's 'A Reason to Live, A Reason to Die!" would be a hardy old-fashion western variation of "The Dirty Dozen". While it might be only half of that film, its remains an amusing fare thanks largely to the three central performances of Bud Spencer, James Coburn and Telly Savalas. The latter might not make an appearance until the hour mark, but it's the combination between the buoyant Spencer and low-key Coburn which drives it. The humour seems to come off thanks to Spencer timing and presence. Even though the greying Coburn and swaggering Savalas get top billing, it's Spencer who's really the star.

Like most films of this ilk, it's systematic with its staples as the theme of vengeance and redemption looms prominently. There's no real change of route, as it keeps it gritty and the straight-forward narrative never loses focuses, especially that of the character's motivations with it to throw up a sudden revelation (which my DVD synopsis' spoiled). The expandable characters are clichés, but workable as they serve their purpose with it ending on a bang. It actually starts with the end, to only retell the story from Spencer's character's point of view. This gives it like a mythical tale-like quality. It's well shot with a commendable music score. Valerii does a serviceable job behind the camera letting it move at a fair pace while constructing few intense scenes and cracking action sequences, like the delirious climatic showdown at the hillside forte (with it vivid locations), which had me thinking of "The Wild Bunch" (in which case Coburn would star in Peckinpah's "Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid" the following year), but in the end you feel like there just wasn't enough going on. Some moments should have been much stronger than they were, like the personal battle between Coburn and Savalas.

Contrived, but tough and dirty entertainment.

"A Reason to Live, A Reason to Die" (1972) is a exciting, Civil War-set Spaghetti Western, directed by Sergio Leone's protégé Tonino Valerii and stars James Coburn, Telly Savalas and Bud Spencer.

The script by Rafael Azcona, Ernesto Gastaldi, Jay Lynn and Tonino Valerii is hardly original, amounting to nothing but a "Dirty Dozen" rehash, but it is adequate: during the American Civil War, the disgraced Colonel Pembroke (James Coburn) tries to retake a heavily defended fort that was taken by the Confederates from him without a shot fired, a mystery that helps drive his character, by using twelve recruits who he has saved from death sentences.

Despite the lack of originality in the screenplay department, the spirited direction makes the story rattle along at a breathless pace to the expertly staged, wholesale carnage at the end. Throughout, the the three leads fare remarkably well and are the only ones who are given any sort of more than superficial examination of their past. The music by Riz Ortolani, all powerful horns, is masterly, compensating for uninteresting photography.

The fast pace and direction help raise this Spaghetti Western into a higher plane, turning it into a very, very enjoyable film.

The plot of Tonino Valerii's men-on-a-mission spagwest bears heavy resemblance to THE DIRTY DOZEN while certain sequences are undoubtedly inspired by the climax of Peckinpah's WILD BUNCH. Despite the familiarity of this subject matter, the film turns out to be an engaging little western that tells its story in a spare, lean narrative. It has a gritty, downbeat flavour, is very well shot and makes fine use of some grand sets and isolated locations. Valerii displays a real affinity with the subject matter and brings Ernesto Gastaldi's script to life in a memorable way.

Most of the characters are sidelined in favour of the big hitters, but small wonder when this film features James Coburn and Telly Savalas as protagonist and antagonist respectively. Coburn is stoic, sardonic and a fitting hero, while Savalas plays it subdued throughout. There's also a major role for spagwest stalwart Bud Spencer. Throw in some wonderfully filmed explosions (that put anything Michael Bay's done since to shame) and an epic-feel climax and you have a film that's never less than entertaining.

Disgraced Union officer James Coburn saves himself and a few degenerates, including Bud Spencer, from hanging by suggesting a daring raid on the impregnable Fort Holman, currently being held by mad rebel General Telly Savalas. As the introductory crawl suggests, Coburn has greater motivations than that of simple patriotism.

Inspired by The Dirty Dozen with a bit of Where Eagles Dare and The Wild Bunch thrown in, this is an entertaining Italian western/Civil War movie that makes good use of the massive sets previously built for the film El Condor.

Generally worth recommending, Massacre At Fort Holman (also widely known as A Reason To Live, A Reason To Die, with Coburn dubbed by someone else and Bud Spencer apparently by character actor R.G. Armstrong!) sags some in the middle but things pick up and the final battle is fairly exciting.

There's a great performance by the always cool James Coburn, while that of the supposedly insane Telly Savalas is actually more subdued than usual. He was much more zesty in Pancho Villa and A Town Called Hell, though this is still a better movie.

A Reason to Live, a Reason to Die is a daft; knowing; old fashioned yarn – a film with clichéd action figures filling in for characters and crazy shoot outs involving masses of extras acting as its high points of drama. It is a film that begins with the aftermath of a huge gun fight at an American Civil War fort; a gun fight in which an awful lot happens AT the fort, but a gun fight to which the trudging prelude across the deserts of the great American West TO the fort consists of very little. One would compare it to Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch of just a few years previously, but the getting to the fort shoot out finale in that film was around about just as much fun as the maddening final shoot out was, maybe even more: but not here. Tonino Valerii's film is all about the pomp and the circumstance, a trek across the barren sands of nineteenth century U.S.A. that is only ever mildly invigorating at the best of times; the bulk of it acting as a prelude to the all of the chaos which, by the time of its arrival, has just about seen us stop caring altogether.

In beginning with the fallout of the all out warfare, the film reveals to us its hand in regards to precisely where it's headed; a tactic we do not necessarily mind, and have indeed come to quite enjoy under varying guises from throughout cinema's long history. Some of the better instances, and the range of examples can be rather vast, arrive in the form of De Palma's Carlito's Way or Billy Wilder's classical era noir Double Indemnity; as two films with the eerie ability to snare us into proceedings and still have us as involved as much as we are by the time the conclusion arrives in exactly the manner we saw or heard during the opening beats. Valerii's film follows that of James Coburn's disgraced colonel Pembroke, and his propulsion from such a state into the messy world of suicide missions and open warfare in which he is the leader of an array of troops one would be a fool to not label the underdogs as to where they're eventually to head.

When we first come across Pembroke, it is when the man is scraggly and worn in spite of his rank. He is a thief; a man on his way to jail, that is until he is identified by another official of a more gracious ilk and called into his quarters for a talk. An appreciator of fine wine and enjoying the high life that comes with having gone through the system, a life including armed guards; respect, it seems, and the ability to be so eloquent in one's multi-tasking when speaking of the wine and the mission in equal balance, Pembroke's saviour and his sitting opposite the bedraggled Pembroke displays, in sharp contrast, the deep difference between what a colonel should be and what Pembroke is. Pembroke has proposed to him a mission, a mission to try and recapture a fort for this, the side of the Union Army, from that of the Confederates whom took it under the command of Telly Savalas' Major Ward – a recapturing, it is deemed, that is best preordained by that of an underground tunnel which needs to be taken first. As the gallows outside are readied, and Pembroke contemplates his situation, he begrudgingly accepts and proceeds to round up a disparate array of Apaches; Mexicans; fanatics and rapists from the death roll for this dangerous mission.

Pembroke, indeed the majority of the clan, are effectively on a quest for redemption; a quest surmised by the fact the nickname for the large fort they're due to take is that of the "Pulpit", in regards to its situation on that of a mountain, but a highly religious nickname neatly encapsulating the redemptive element of their mission as they attempt to do good for a change, and get the commanding officer back at the base whom sent them away the promotion he feels he deserves. People will be quick to point out the ties to The Dirty Dozen, but Valerii's piece owes so much more to Leone's game-changing Spaghetti Western The Good, The Bad and the Ugly; an apparently knowing point of inspiration inherent with the fact Pembroke initially brushes off enquiries to the rest of his crew with the promise of enemy gold buried out there in the region of where they're headed.

Alas, the rest of the film is not up to the standard of Coburn's grizzled, underplayed performance of which he instills within his character and unloads into the film; the man playing the material in a fashion that is better than what the film deserves and is a performance which belongs in a better film. There are skirmishes with those they come up against; disagreements within the band of proverbial brothers as one or two of them express their desires to flee, the bedding down for a night's sleep ought to being a good source of tension as Pembroke's no-nonsense attitude clashes with cut-throats wanting to flee, but it mostly falls flat. One occasion witnesses the stumbling across of a secluded farm, a set piece that, again, ought to rack up a fair degree of tension what with the group of bandits and rapists Pembroke has in tow being forced into sharing the same space as decent civilian folk, but it fails to induce much in the way of effective drama and instead leaves rather-a nasty taste which feels misplaced in an otherwise guilty, old fashioned romp which is a deeply underwhelming experience on the whole.