Twenty Steps to a Deadlock No matter how bad other Italian westerns were, in the heyday of the genre, pouring like a horn of abundance on the viewer’s head, in this motley and ragged pile of cinema spaghetti there is no-no and there was a trace of real artistry and talent, whether it was cinematography, an unexpected script move, chic music or memorable acting work, because of which a gray and incongruous picture suddenly revived and riveted attention, leaving behind at least a weak hope that the time was not spent for free.
So burned in the works of local masters mighty revolutionary spirit of all Italian cinema, alas, shone only a weak reflection in the films of their Spanish colleagues, and let not be confused by the frequent cooperation between the two countries-neighbors, generously shared landscapes, staff, then all these with other necessary additions. Indeed, having undoubted abilities, the mass of Spanish filmmakers did not grab the stars from the sky, and often took a subordinate position in relation to the art of neighbors, inspired by their findings and experience, but doing it extremely clumsy and artless. Of course, this was manifested in the implementation of “extensive” themes, already dragged down and completely clichéd, which should include both gjallo, and mysticism, and the notorious “spaghetti”. “Twenty steps to death” is a typical example of this phenomenon of “losers”.
The creation, formally controlled by three directors at once, including two Spaniards and one Italian, this third-rate craftsmanship sins with all possible disadvantages of a product made on the knee without any teamwork at the moment when the entire trinity was thinking about three in the nearest shadow. Terrible editing, clumsy manipulations with the camera, ridiculous productions of action-packed moments and collected all these “achievements” denouement to the root destroy even weak attempts to empathize with the story itself and the misadventures of the main characters, among whom was “Soviet American”. Dean Reed and the experienced Italian Alberto Farnese.
In fact, their figures, as well as remarkable faces such as the ubiquitous Louis Induni and the line of the heroine of the promising American Patty Sheppard at the time, held my “residual interest” and connected a shattering plot in which the speech WOULD be about a van of gold, so much needed fighting in the agony of the Confederate army, but quickly lost in the confusion and incoherence of further vicissitudes. Sometimes a bad movie can make good music, but that’s not there. Reed's fans, by the way, are unlikely to deliver many pleasant minutes either, as he simply has nothing to play except a stone expression on his face. Is that what he's doing? Well, well.
In fact, "Twenty Steps to Death" itself does not deserve such a large number of printed characters, being simply a poor example of the art of its time, which allowed to generalize an individual view of some features of the Spanish contribution to European cinema. The film itself, however, did not benefit by an iota, and can be recommended either to fans of the personalities involved in the film, or fans of the genre, to which the author of this line also refers himself.
2 out of 10