Bezenby Fabio Testi, dressed as Tom Baker in Doctor Who, turns up in a windy town and announces that he's the new sheriff. That's all fine and dandy, the locals say, but then they point out that there's a bunch of Mexican jerks that ride into town now and again to steal stuff, and that lot are affiliated with an even bigger bunch of jerks, who think they run the town and make a big show of playing 'keep away' with Fabio's gun, pulling his pigtails and making fun of his really long scarf. Testi, unable to stand up to these bullies, goes back to his sheriff's office to mope and listen to The Cure. Shaken, he's now got to figure out how to get rid of these guys, but what you're thinking is "Well buddy the most important plot point I'd like to know is how these two bad guy gangs got together – that'll help the momentum of the film greatly". You're in luck, because we get a flashback that goes on for so long I wasn't sure if the film had moved on to some future bank heist involving the bad guys. Hunt Powers is here too as Django (but dressed as Sartana) and maybe he's the answer to Testi's problems, seeing as he appears to have a six- shooter that can fire twelve or more bullets with being reloaded! He's also not a timid pussy like Testi's character.Director Fidani is not so much the 'Ed Wood' of Spaghetti Western so much as a he is a trailblazer for how utterly trashy Italian cinema would become after the money started drying up. Here, he fills the film with everything he can think of – laughing bad guys, drinking, food eating, punch ups, gunfights at dawn, wind, punch ups, walking, looking, smelling, fire, glass raising, blinking, punch ups, shaving, roof climbing, Mexican doing the Times crossword, crossing streets, looking out of windows, looking into windows, pouring beer, brushing dust off of trousers, smoking cigars, Ames taping, hyperfine splitting, horse riding, squinting, scarf wearing, stereographic projection mapping, opening doors, crying, sitting, Morphological analysis and re- examination of the taxonomic circumscription of Acosmium, drooling, pointing, putting socks on, tracklaying and resignalling for the East London Line extension, baking, wriggling toes, scratching, wondering, The implementation of the AMPHORA2 workflow for phylogenetic analysis of metagenomic shotgun sequencing data, stirring, singing, farting, flirting, punch ups, etc.

Billy Wiggins Director Miles Deem (AKA Demofilo Fidani) delivers a tedious, overlong western opus with very little going for it. 82 minutes long, feels like 182. Handsome Fabio Testi is Ronson, the new sheriff of Black City. Ronson learns that the notorious gangster Willer and his cohort Sanchez are the de facto law in Black City; the townsfolk live in fear of their (modestly- staged) rampages. Meanwhile, the mysterious stranger Django (Hunt Powers) also arrives in town to settle an old score against Willer.The set-piece of the movie is a fairly brilliant (compared to the rest of the pic) showdown at dawn between Django and Willer's men, which occurs maybe 2/3 of the way into the show. The two sides wordlessly face off in the town square as composer Lallo Gori's music swells to a passioned, foreboding crescendo. Credulity is strained, however, as Django fells all six men he faces before they get as much as a single shot off! For a moment, we see Fidani at what must be the height of his abilities -- a real, exciting Spaghetti Western standoff. Fidani obviously liked the scene, as he re-stages it again at the climax, with Ronson facing Sanchez in the almost-exact same fashion. Second time around, not so great.Otherwise, the flick pads out its running time with several lengthy, pointless hand-to-hand rumbles, which are neither exciting nor essential to the story. Also filling the time is an extended, narrated "flashback" of how Willer and Sanchez met during a bank heist. This sequence plays out over about 10 minutes, and is so protracted that you will forget you are in a flashback. (I sure did.) And as for Sartana? The very last line of dialog in the picture has Ronson admitting to Django that he is "known as Sartana in some parts". What was the point of that?Dino Strano as Willer is effortlessly menacing in a cool way, mostly playing things grim but occasionally breaking into a cackling, taunting laugh. Powers is a miserable Django, with little charisma and tons of pancake makeup on his creased, craggly face. The likable Testi is frankly not given much to do rather than look exasperated. He has proved himself an able protagonist in several other genre films, but here he is basically a tall guy that looks good in a cowboy outfit.The production betrays its modest budget by boasting a tiny cast playing the story out in cramped, cheap-looking sets. The town square is forever dark and muddy, which may have been a choice by the filmmakers or may just mean they couldn't afford to wait for the sun to come out, to begin filming. The overall cheapness makes the score by Coriolano (Lallo) Gori seems that much richer and full-throated in comparison. Gori, as usual, delivers a fine, robust series of cues.This is one of about a half-dozen flicks that Fidani cranked out with pretty much the same cast and behind-the-camera personnel. Of that bunch, none are great, and ONE DAMNED DAY may well be the least of them. 5/10 stars.

FightingWesterner Fabio Testi takes a job as the new sheriff in a lawless town besieged by two ruthless gangs. Meanwhile, tough mystery man Hunt Powers also arrives to take care of some unfinished business. Considering the title of the film, you can pretty much guess who these two strangers turn out to be!A derivative, so-so spaghetti western, One Damned Day At Dawn...Django Meets Sartana! has good atmosphere, production values, and two decent actors in the title roles, just not a very good script.As in all three films I've seen from director Miles Deem, it's just too rushed and sloppy for it's own good, though not as bad as the other two.I would recommend this only for people who have already seen everything else.

zardoz-13 Shooting, killing, and name-dropping galore sums up what director & producer Demofilo Fidani's "One Damned Day At Dawn . . . Django Meets Sartana" (1970) does best. Hardcore Italian western fans will relish this non-stop, colorful, no-holds-barred orgy of gunplay and violence jammed into ninety bullet-blasting minutes. What "One Damned Day" does worst is tell an imaginative, coherent story with memorable characters, but Fidani—known to most as Miles Deem—never lets the plot get in the way of the pistol-packing pyrotechnics. Meanwhile, "One Damned Day" qualifies as the most generic spaghetti western that I have ever seen. Specifically, our two brave heroes: Django and Sartana appear virtually alike in looks and wardrobe with little to distinguish them from each other. Meaning, Fidani—who made at least five other oaters featuring the same title characters fanning their six-guns--and his uncredited scenarist give us precious little to individualize them. First, any well-versed spaghetti western fan knows that Django in his seminal incarnation as Franco Nero in Sergio Corbucci landmark western violated all the rules of Euro-western heroes. He dragged a coffin concealing a machine gun. However, Jack Betts—a.k.a. Hunt Powers—resembles the typical Hollywood western hero on horseback with his fast Colt's .45 revolver that he can shoot with unerring accuracy. Second, handsome Fabio Testi is practically unrecognizable as Sartana and projects neither the charisma that South American actor George Hilton earlier brought to the role nor the grit that Gianni Garko invested in his turns as Sartana. Neither of our heroes have any tricks up their sleeves nor do they spout any clever dialogue. They just shoot, kill, and ride like blazes. In an early scene, a group of grateful Mexican peasants pay tribute to Sartana as a sympathetic hero because he convinced them to re-open an abandoned mine that—as it turns out—still yields a fortune in money for them to meet their immediate needs. In other words, were they not named either Django or Sartana, we wouldn't know them apart or individually from the hundreds of other swift-shooting six-gunners that populated the spaghetti western. The villain—outlaw killer Burt Willer—is played by Gordon Mitchell look-a-look Dino Strano, and director Demofilo Fidani gives him more characterization than anybody else in this dandy dustraiser. He constantly argues with himself in a mirror while he plays poker with his reflection, only to warn his own image that he had better not cheat at cards! Okay, it may be going artistically out on a limb to suggest that Sartana and Django represent mirror images of themselves competing with a villain who has his own split-personality. As for the American and Mexican outlaws that constitute Willer's gang, they all look the same in their Stetsons/sombreros, right-handed six-shooters, unkempt beards and uncut hair. Moreover, they are all slim, trim, and athletic as all get out. You won't find any pot-bellied Bud Spencer or Mario Brega types in this cast. The best that you can say about all these corpses in search of our heroes' bullets is that stunt coordinator Benito Pacifico—if he didn't perform all the gags—has trained them well as they pitch, whirl, tumble, and smash into furniture, walls, or desert scenery when they take their slugs and die. Interestingly, most of them fall forward rather than backwards, but they look terrific doing it. Late in the last act, Fidani pulls out even more stops by having them photographed in slow motion like something out of a Sam Peckinpah bloodbath.The craggy mountain and desert style scenery are as stunning in its raw beauty as the babes who impersonate the dance-hall mistresses in this standard-issue European oater that benefits from a superior as well as atmospheric music score by composer Coriolano Gori. Gori puts a lot of snazzy jazz in his score with just enough Ennio Morricone bits and pieces to pay homage to the master. Gori's score deserves to be preserved on a soundtrack or at least the title tune should make a compilation disc. Again, the absence of a scenarist is interesting because "One Damned Day" delivers the bulk of its plot in the opening scenes. Burt Willer and his gang of cutthroat gunslingers have stolen an overdue U.S. cavalry payroll, and Willer wants to ensure that his gunmen and he make it safely across the border by kidnapping a beautiful but feisty American girl from a nearby ranch. The father as well as the authorities want to stop Willer and company before they—the villains—hightail it across the border, so they raise the rewards on them and Sartana and Django show up to cut several more notches on their pistol grips of their six-guns. Indeed, this western winds up on a predictable note, but not before three-fourths of the cast bites the dust. If you're a Euro-western fan and you want to kill 90 minutes with gusto, "One Damned Day At Dawn" is ideal entertainment.