Neither director nor star ever lose sight of a simple compassion that insists that no one, as long as they retain even the faintest glimmer of self-knowledge, is beyond hope.
A corrupt police lieutenant goes from bad to worse.
The narrative arc is clumsy and disjointed due to inconsistent pacing, the tone varies uncertainly between grit and a kind of solemn sentimentality, and most of the scenes drag on so long and artlessly that the drama runs out of them.
An American mercenary fights fascism in the early days of the Spanish Civil War.
There’s no denying that the film’s polemical message is still relevant today, but it’s an old argument, didactically constructed.
Portmanteau film in which four directors “limit themselves to recounting the joyous beginning of the end of the world”. Out to own as part of Pier Pasolini Volume One box set.
