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Category: Salvatore Furnari

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Plot: Praetorian plans to overthrow increasingly despotic Caesar.

Alfonso Brescia may never be remembered as one of the great Italian exploitation directors but his reputation as a director of competent, albeit seldomly inspired, genre pieces made him a worthy footnote in the country’s cinematic history. That reputation had to start somewhere, and what place better to start than La rivolta dei pretoriani (or Revolt Of the Praetorians). As this was Alfonso’s first directorial feature it sets the stage for The Conqueror Of Atlantis (1965) and as such it is probably the best in the Brescia canon. Not merely for being his first, but because it is genuinely pervaded by a gusto and hunger that would be largely absent in the majority of his oeuvre starting at the dawn of the next decade. Revolt Of the Praetorians meanwhile is testament to the fact that Alfonso Brescia, while not blessed with much of a visual style of his own, was a promising director at one point. What Revolt Of the Praetorians lacks in flair and strong visuals it makes up in sheer enthusiasm.

Over thirty years and about 50 movies legendary journeyman Alfonso Brescia tried his hand at everything from peplum, spaghetti western, Eurowar, giallo, decamerotici, and commedia sexy all'Italiana to science fiction, poliziotteschi, sceneggiata, and barbarians to even the rare action movie. Interestingly, Brescia never partook in the jungle goddess craze following the international success of Liane, Jungle Goddess (1956) or Gungala, Virgin Of the Jungle (1967) back at home. His work underwent a notable dip in quality after Kill Rommel! (1968) and the patently absurd Hell in Normandy (1968) as he rode the dying embers of the waning Eurowar fad. Interestingly he didn’t dabble in the gothic horror revival of the 1970s (renting castles and costumes costs lira, you know). He did direct two surprisingly decent giallo but not a single The Last House on the Left (1972), The Exorcist (1973), or Black Emanuelle (1975) knockoff or any fumetti or Eurospy romps. The only real outlier in his oeuvre was his The Beast In Space (1980), or the concluding chapter of his Star Wars (1977) pentalogy and a liberal space opera reworking Walerian Borowczyk's The Beast (1975). Instead of faded American stars and Italian veterans chewing scenery it had Finnish import Sirpa Lane gobbling on more things than just the scenery. Lane had a blitz career that barely lasted a decade. She was in Roger Vadim's The Assassinated Young Girl (1974), Nazi Love Camp 27 (1977), Malabestia (1978), Joe D'Amato's Papaya: Love Goddess of the Cannibals (1978), and Andrea Bianchi's Carnal Games (1983). Lane’s career nexus undoubtedly was the aforementioned The Beast (1975). By the same token did old Al not contribute to the zombie – and cannibal boom of the 1980s. In a surprising turn of events Iron Warrior (1987) took inspiration from Hong Kong and Homicide In the Blue Light (1992) could have been a potential Eleven Days, Eleven Nights (1987) erotic potboiler had it focused on fabulous Florence Guérin more than its poliziotteschi subplot.

Having worked as an assistant – and second unit director for Mario Caiano, Giuseppe Vari, Mario Amendola, and Silvio Amadio producer Carlo Vassalle gave Alfonso Brescia - who had penned the screenplays for Maciste, Gladiator of Sparta (1964) and The Two Gladiators (1964) - the chance to direct his own peplum with Revolt Of the Praetorians. In his debut feature Brescia tackles a heavily fictionalized take on the historical account of the assassination of Roman emperor Titus Flavius Caesar Domitianus in 96. Domitian was the last member of the Flavian dynasty who reigned from 81 to 96. Domitian’s regime exhibited totalitarian characteristics that curtailed the senate’s power which put him at odds with various senators that viewed him a tyrannic despot. He was eventually assassinated by court officials and succeeded by his advisor Nerva. Revolt Of the Praetorians does indeed relay that basic account, but throws in a surprise or two along the way. After all the sword-and-sandal epic was in dying embers by this point. On top of that he was alotted a faded and fading American lead (Richard Harrison) that had found a footing in the Italian schlock market, some noted domestic character actors (Piero Lulli, Giuliano Gemma, and Fedele Gentile) in key supporting roles, and a bevy of national and international babes (Moira Orfei, Paola Pitti, and Ivy Holzer).

In AD 96 Emperor Domiziano (Piero Lulli) has sunk to such depths of paranoia that a multitude of daily executions have become the norm. His concubine Artamne (Moira Orfei) believes what Caesar does is just and assists him whenever possible. Imperial Praetorian Guard Valerio Rufo (Richard Harrison), young senator Marcus Cocceio Nerva (Giuliano Gemma) and elder patrician Fabio Lucilio (Fedele Gentile) realize that Caesar is becoming increasingly unhinged and unpredictable and that his reign of terror will eventually mean the end of Rome. The three decide to hatch a plan to relief Domiziano of his power and install a new, just Caesar in his stead. Helped by court jester Elpidion (Salvatore Furnari) in their efforts, who Caesar believes to be on his side, the forces of the Emperor are assailed by the agile Red Wolf, a masked caped crusader and a defender of justice. Things take a turn for the personal when Domiziano’s preferred soldier (Bruno Ukmar) and his forces threaten life and limb of Valerio’s girlfriend Lucilla (Paola Pitti, as Paola Piretti). With the menace of Red Wolf and intrigue in his court Domiziano senses that something is afoot and orders the rebellion struck down, at any cost…

It’s peculiar how many plot points Brescia would recycle in the years following Revolt Of the Praetorians, no matter what the genre. The following year’s The Conqueror Of Atlantis (1965) had Piero Lulli conspiring with Hélène Chanel. The masked crusader would be used again in The Colt Is My Law (1965) and Amazons vs Supermen (1973). Likewise does one of the main characters in Battle Of the Amazons (1973) only spring into action until the villains force his hand by threatening something near and dear to him. The general plot outline of Revolt Of the Praetorians would be recycled almost in full for Cross Mission (1988) that saw Riccardo Acerbi turn against his despotic master Maurice Poli who had his own dwarven conjurer with Nelson de la Rosa. Revolt Of the Praetorians benefits greatly from having a screenplay written not by Brescia himself, but by Gian Paolo Callegari. He had writing credits going as far as the 1940s and would direct the spy caper Agent Sigma 3 – Mission Goldwather (1967) and the early decamerotici Hot Nights of the Decameron (1972), among many others. Pier Ludovico Pavoni was obviously an infinitely superior cinematographer compared to later frequent Brescia collaborators Giancarlo Ferrando, Fausto Rossi, and Silvio Fraschetti.

Compared to the surrealist The Conqueror Of Atlantis (1965) the next year Revolt Of the Praetorians is remarkably conservative and restrained. Which doesn’t mean that old Alfonso doesn’t fill it to the gills with elements you aren’t likely to see anywhere else. Revolt Of the Praetorians is a tale of court intrigue, but also one where virginal maidens are threatened to be lowered in a vat of molten lead, where a little person commandeers an army of insurgents, and where a single Praetorian fights waves of enemies with his hands tied behind his back. Moira Orfei wears beautiful gowns and changes wigs in every virtually every scene she’s in. Paola Pitti is a virginal maiden in the mould of Sylva Koscina in The Labors of Hercules (1957). Piero Lulli and Moira Orfei were both peplum regulars and Lulli would play a tyrant again in The Conqueror Of Atlantis (1965). Bruno Ukmar would turn up in Brescia’s spaghetti westerns in the ensueing years.

Ivy Holzer would later end up playing one of the leads in Samao, Queen Of the Jungle (1968) (alongside Edwige Fenech, Femi Benussi, and Roger Browne). Moira Orfei came from a family of circus performers and was known as Moira of the Elephants. As an actress she was a peplum veteran having appeared in a slew of sword-and-sandal epics from 1960 onward. Orfei was in Ursus (1961) (alongside a young Soledad Miranda) and would later figure in Scent of a Woman (1974) and the Lucio Fulci gothic horror spoof Dracula in the Provinces (1975) (with Lando Buzzanca and an all-star female cast including Sylva Koscina, Christa Linder, Ilona Staller and Valentina Cortese). The Orfei family runs circuses to this day. Harrison had something of a career revival in Hong Kong twenty years later with his association with Godfrey Ho Chi-Keung (何誌強). Unfortunately Brescia wouldn’t be able to hold on to the services of director of photography Pier Ludovico Pavoni and the great majority of his subsequent output would be plagued by absolutely hideous cinematography. Likewise would many of Brescia’s later films come with abysmal scores, usually studio leftovers from Marcello Giombini.

There’s a sense of vitality to Revolt Of the Praetorians that makes it an enjoyable slice of low-budget peplum pulp. Brescia might not have been one of Italy’s more colorful or talented exploitation directors, but his early work possesses a sense of character and vigor that his later oeuvre direly lacks. In the mid-1960s there was still hope for Brescia to cultivate what little potential he had as a director. If anything Revolt Of the Praetorians proved that Alfonso Brescia could be counted on to helm modestly budgeted productions that would be able to turn a reasonable profit. Of course no one in the right mind should see Revolt Of the Praetorians voluntarily, but it’s a delectable slice of peplum cheese from a director who would in less than a decade forth would be churning out some of the most low-hanging celluloid fruit imagineable. It’s hard to fathom that Revolt Of the Praetorians came from the same director that graced the world with nearly indefensible cross-genre pulp as Amazons vs Supermen (1973) and the delirious Star Odyssey (1979). In the twilight years of his career Brescia would channel the spirit of Revolt Of the Praetorians with his illicit Ator sequel Iron Warrior (1987). That he followed that one up with the double-whammy of Cross Mission (1988) (where about the only good thing was Brigitte Porsche) and the erotic thriller Homicide In the Blue Light (1992) (that not even a frequently naked Florence Guérin could save) speaks volumes of just how much a hack Brescia truly was. Once upon a time Alfonso Brescia had some mild promise as a workhorse exploitation director and mercenary pulp specialist. Revolt Of the Praetorians is all the proof you need. Tread lightly, regardless.

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Plot: rogue gods plan to overthrow Mount Olympus, lone muscleman intervenes

The first wave of Italian peplum lasted from 1958 to 1965 as Meditterranean directors and producers made use of the lavish sets left behind by American productions and smaller-scale sword-and-sandals adventures replaced the more serious Biblical and Greco-Roman epics of the forties and fifties. Pietro Francisci’s The Labors Of Hercules (1958) and Hercules Unchained (1959), both with Steve Reeves as the titular demigod, ushered in the arrival of a more pulpy, kitschy peplum. By 1962 the first Italian peplum wave was cresting and outliers started to appear. One such example was Emimmo Salvi’s fantasy mash-up Vulcan, Son Of Jupiter (1962) with Iranian strongman Iloosh Khoshabe, Cuban import Bella Cortez and Gordon Mitchell. Cortez and Mitchell had figured into the entertainingly delirious The Giant Of Metropolis (1961), duly pilfered by Alfonso Brescia for his The Conqueror Of Atlantis (1965), which Salvi wrote and produced. That Pietro Francisci would direct Hercules, Samson and Ulysses (1963), widely considered the last great Italian sword-and-sandal epic, is more than fitting.

Vulcan, Son Of Jupiter was the first Italian sword-and-sandal production to be filmed on location in Iran with a mostly Italian cast and crew. The feature was produced by Spartaco Antonucci and Manouchehr Zamani. Zamani cast Iloosh Khoshabe, a star of movies from Shapur Yasami and Esmail Kushan and who Zamani himself had directed once or twice – for release in the domestic market. That Zamani would cast Khoshabe, who sports a Steve Reeves beard and a Kirk Morris glistening chest, in the first English-language peplum production in Iran is only logical. Emimmo Salvi first worked as a production assistant from 1953 to 1958. From there he was promoted to screenwriter and later ascended to the director’s chair with this production. In an interesting twist he contributed to the screenplay for Umberto Scarpelli’s The Giant Of Metropolis (1961), before helming a duo of Arabian Nights adventure yarns with The Seven Tasks of Ali Baba (1962) and Ali Baba and the Seven Saracens (1964) as well as the Wagnerian epic The Stone Forest (1965). Salvi’s features often starred Gordon Mitchell and Bella Cortez. When the peplum dried up Salvi took to directing a few spaghetti westerns and an Eurospy romp before retiring. Bella Cortez was a skinny, long blackhaired, hourglass figured belle from Oriente, Cuba who briefly acted from 1961 to 1966 and starred in about a dozen, mostly peplum, productions. Cortez graced magazine covers from Italy to Yugoslavia and Switzerland and was romantically involved with director Emimmo Salvi. If Vulcan, Son Of Jupiter is retroactively famous for one thing, it’s that Luigi Cozzi lifted the plot wholesale for his equally entertaining The Adventures Of Hercules (1985) with Lou Ferrigno, Sonia Viviani and Milly Carlucci.

On Mount Olympus king of the gods Jupiter (Furio Meniconi) intervenes in a tryst of Venus (Annie Gorassini) with the mortal Adonis by throwing a lightning bolt at him. In his court Jupiter announces that Venus is to be wedded to either Mars (Roger Browne, as Roger Brown) or Vulcan (Iloosh Khoshabe, as Rod Flash Ilush), the latter who has been working in the Olympian forgery on a sword for Achilles. Angered by Jupiter’s decision Venus forms an alliance with Mars and Pluto (Gordon Mitchell, as Mitchell Gordon) to overthrow Jupiter and Olympus. When Venus partly disrobes and throws herself at Vulcan, this draws the ire of her beau Mars resulting in the inevitable fight in the smithy. Pending his decision Jupiter casts both men to Earth. Not helping matters either is Erida (Edda Ferronao) sowing discord among the Olympian gods. Vulcan awakens drowsily on the shores of Sicily where he is promptly rescued by the scandily-clad Aetna (Bella Cortez), who wears what amounts to a very skimpy cheerleader outfit, and her nubile nymphs.

Meanwhile Mars and Venus convince Thracian warlord Milos (Ugo Sabetta) to erect a tower reaching Olympus. No sooner has Vulcan been rescued by the Sicilian nymphs they are attacked by a tribe of scaly, fanged Lizard Men and summarily imprisoned. Vulcan is tortured by the Lizard Men until they are freed by Geo (Salvatore Furnari). Geo proves to be strategically important as he can summon a Triton to bring them to the realm of Neptune (Omero Gargano), who vows to help Vulcan. Before setting out on his quest Vulcan is treated to a tantalizing dance of veils from Aetna. Cortez’ little routine obviously took some inspiration from Anita Ekberg’s dance from the Terence Young directed Arabian Nights adventure Zarak (1956). After the dance Mercurius (Isarco Ravaioli) briefly engages himself toying with the gemstone jewel in Aetna’s navel. In the grand finale the forces of Neptune and Thrace come to a clash, Vulcan challenges Mars in man-to-man combat and Aetna and Venus all duke it out. It’s a battle so ineptly staged that Jupiter calls from the heavens above for all to lay down their weapons.

For a production with no budget to speak of Vulcan, Son Of Jupiter was able to assemble quite a cast. It was the first English-language production for Iloosh Khoshabe, and Bella Cortez was well on her way in becoming a peplum fixture thanks to her radiant looks, dancing skills, and with titles as The Tartars (1961), the science-fiction mash-up The Giant Of Metropolis (1962), and the Arabian Nights double whammy The Seven Tasks of Ali Baba (1962) and Ali Baba and the Seven Saracens (1964). Roger Browne in a few years hence would figure into the fumetti Argoman (1967), Samoa, Queen of the Jungle (1968), and The War Of the Robots (1978). Edda Ferronao would star in The Slaughter Of the Vampires (1964) two years later. Isarco Ravaioli was a beloved character actor with titles as diverse as The Vampire and the Ballerina (1960), the fumetti Diabolik (1968) and Satanik (1968), the Eurowar romp Heroes Without Glory (1971) and the barbarian movie The Throne Of Fire (1983). Annie Gorassini was a comedic actress that worked with everybody from Federico Fellini, Pietro Francisci to Lucio Fulci, Bruno Corbucci and Emimmo Salvi. Famous in their own way were Salvatore Furnari and Franco Doria, probably the most recognizable dwarfen actors of the day.

Granted it never quite reaches the same level of kitsch as The Giant Of Metropolis (1961) and it isn’t as out-there as The Conqueror Of Atlantis (1965) later in the decade. Furio Meniconi wears a really bad wig, Omero Gargano’s Neptune looks sort of drowsy and the rubber suits from the Lizard Men are even worse than that of Amando de Ossorio’s The Loreleys Grasp (1973) about ten years later. Jupiter’s bold of lightning was crudely scratched onto the film to reach the desired effect. Primitive does not quite convey just how crude these special effects are. The action choreography and the fights are as lamentable, clunky and stilted as they come. Italy after all is, was and never would be Hong Kong or Japan and nobody in the cast had any formal combat training. Khoshabe, Browne and Mitchell acquit themselves admirably enough, and the catfight between Cortez and Gorassini is a lot better than it has any right to be. Which doesn’t mean any of the fights are good or at least believably staged. The Lizard Men were an interesting addition but they are discarded almost as soon as they are introduced and their subplot goes nowhere virtually immediately. Likewise does the Thracian tower subplot never amount to anything, even though the characters make it out to be important for a good while. Venus ensnares gods and mortals by wielding her most common superpower. In Vulcan, Son Of Jupiter the gods and goddesses of the Greek pantheon aren’t all that different from the mortals they apparently so despise.

With a showing this abysmal, no wonder special effects man Roberto Parapetti would never be heard of again. Iloosh Khoshabe, Roger Browne and Gordon Mitchell are sufficiently oiled and practically bare-chested the entire time. Bella Cortez, Annie Gorassini, and Edda Ferronao unfortunately are not but they wear the skimpiest of tunics – and it’s puzzling that Cortez never became a bigger star than she ended up being. Certainly her appearance and bellydance routine in The Seven Revenges (1961) should have landed her bigger opportunities than the ones she ended up getting. Gorassini obviously has a lot of fun in the role of duplicitious Venus, who is prone to disrobing to have men doing her bidding, and her experience as a comedic actress evidently helps tremendously. The throne room on Mount Olympus seems perpetually enshrouded in smoke and dry ice and it’s not quite as lush and opulent as it probably should have been. The production values are nothing to write home about and match the early Alfonso Brescia catalog. Evidently the first wave of peplum was cresting and the lack of resources available to the production makes that painfully clear. The battles lack in scope and scale and the gods act far too much like the petty and vindictive mortals they use as peons.

There isn’t a whole lot to recommend if you are looking for a quality peplum, but as these things go, you could do far worse than Vulcan, Son Of Jupiter. It’s thoroughly entertaining for the rank pulp that it is. Vulcan, Son Of Jupiter is the sort of historical curiosity that - while available in the public domain and from companies as Mill Creek Entertainment, often in prints of dubious quality and origin - should be given a proper restoration and remastering. It certainly no classic peplum and whatever merits can be bestowed upon it is that it features an ensemble cast of sorts. The first cycle of peplum was winding down and productions as Vulcan, Son Of Jupiter would never have been greenlit if it weren’t for companies completely milking a concept until audiences no longer showed up in cineplexes. The peplum would experience a resurgence (as would gothic horror) in the next decade, but they’d never command the resources they once had in the fifties and early sixties. Vulcan, Son Of Jupiter borders on the satirical but it never transcends into the realm of send-up or spoof. Perhaps it would have worked far better acting as such. It’s not exactly tedious, but it isn’t spectacular in its wretchedness enough either. It’s still sufficiently awful by any reasonable standard, and the terrible dubbing is always a hoot with this sort of productions. At least there’s Bella Cortez.