Last night, I came to an epiphany.
I'm sure you realize these things don't come easily, and I took careful consideration to properly weigh the subject in my head, battling whether the outcome of this sudden and brave new reality should become public. After thinking it over for nearly twenty three seconds, I decided that, yes, it should be public knowledge that I am, in fact, Jesus Christ.
I know, it sounds ridiculous, and some of you may even be offended by the very idea of these certain circumstances, I am he who is risen.
Let me explain: yesterday evening I sat down on my couch to enjoy what I thought might be a quirky and fun Spaghetti Western and was instead treated to what felt like someone nailing my wrists to a 2X4. True enough, I've never experienced the physical pain of a crucifixion, but the pain I endured for a full 93 minutes watching The Three Musketeers of the West is about as bad as it gets.
The Three Musketeers of the West, or Tutti per uno... botte per tutti, or All for One...Punches for All, was originally released in 1973, but has recently found itself a DVD release through Dorado Films Inc, much to my dismay. Though I cannot consider myself someone who is an expert on Spaghetti Westerns, it is clear to me that the only people this film would attract are masochists and those adolescents who have been clamoring for a chance to see Karin Schubert briefly naked ten years before turning into a porn star, and let's face it, the latter group doesn't exist anymore.
When the film began I had high hopes for, at the very least, a decent experience. I actually chuckled moderately at the initial setting in "Cheese Valley" that the filmmakers transition into a dance scene that displays the credits where I discovered that it took four writers to pen this shitty screenplay. Directly after this particular merrymaking concludes, we learn that Dart Junior has been appointed as a Texas Ranger, and given a shotgun, a hollowed bible with a brick inside, and a wheel of pungent cheese. Then everybody has a food fight.
Afterward, when Dart Junior leaves to meet up with his troop, a man sends two clones of Burt Reynolds to assassinate him for political reasons. A goofy fight takes place. Not surprisingly, Dart Junior comes out on top by outwitting them. The problem with this is that none of the people in this film are particularly witty. Honestly, there's more plot, but none of it good.
It's incredibly strange to think of the evolution of humor over the decades. More notably visual slapstick comedy. I suppose it's possible that I'm too young to appreciate this brand of funny, but I doubt it. The entirety of the film plays out like an over-long episode of Merry Melodies, where our main character, Bugs Bunny, is replaced by Dart Junior. The difference though, is that this film goes pretty stale pretty fast and it's nine times as long. Shenanigans ensue, and a whole lot of goofy fights are forced on to the screen, usually with multiple assailants at once.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Nothing to see here, just move along.
But, I persevered through this mess to make sure you don't have to. Continuing it's tradition of awful, the Three Musketeers of the West surprised me with it's poor choice to over-dub English over English. Doesn't make sense, does it? I watched the film with a few argumentative friends where we debated just how retarded the filmmakers were to have the actors mouth English instead of just recording it. This particular facet of the film is particularly bothersome since this film has an Italian track, but contains no subtitles otherwise I would have switched over.
Although, one absolutely odd thing about the DVD that caught my attention is an alternate bath scene in the extras of the DVD where Karin Schubert is no longer nude. Let me explain: in the original scene Karin is fully nude while exiting a bath tub. In the extra cut, she is for some reason wearing lingerie when she exits the same bath tub. How strange.
Clearly this film is not for everyone. Actually, I think it's safe to say this film isn't for anyone. I don't recommend it to you. However, if you ever do get the urge to torture yourself, stick a screwdriver in your head and pretend you're Rosemary Kennedy. I am a masochist. I am a glutton for punishment. But you know what? I did it for you.
On a 5 point scale, it's at best a 1.5. And that's terrible.