By the mid-70s the Spaghetti Western was on its last legs having long-since burnt out and degenerated into lack-lustre comedy and dire self-parody. With "Keoma", however, director Enzo G. Castellari bucked that downward trend and delivered the last great Spaghetti Western – a violent, visionary, hallucination of a film filled with religious allegory and a strange under-current of supernaturalism. The film opens with the half-Native American / half white wanderer Keoma (Franco Nero) returning to his hometown, which is stricken with the plague and looks like a hellish apocalyptic wasteland. He is greeted by an old "witch" (Gabriella Giacobbe) on the outskirts of town and she chides him for returning. Keoma ignores her and soon finds himself in conflict with the local big shot, Caldwell (Donald O'Brien) after he takes pity on the heavily pregnant Lisa (Olga Karlatos). Lisa is disease free but is being consigned to a plague camp by Caldwell's minions for their own ends. Keoma's assistance to Lisa does not go down well with Caldwell and the wanderer soon finds himself alone against a town of evil men. Finding time to visit his father (William Berger) Keoma discovers that his three brothers, Butch (Orso Maria Guerrini), Lenny (Antonio Marsina) and Sam (Gianni Loffredo) have taken up with Caldwell and that he will also have to face them down. He also discovers that his childhood friend, bow and arrow totting African-American George, (Woody Strode) has become an alcoholic after having won his freedom at the end of the Civil War.
"Keoma" is very much Enzo G. Castellari's movie, offering up a directorial master-class in technique and cinematic risk-taking – it is, in my view, Castellari's best and most interesting film. Based on a story by Luigi Montefiori (George Eastman), Castellari apparently threw away the script and improvised the majority of the film, leaving a work of ambition and highly distinctive moments. The most interesting of these are possibly the flashbacks that are played out as integral parts of actual scenes and the repeated use of odd silent, slow-motion shots. The camera move that slowly manoeuvres the point of view around Keoma and his father as they speak, moving the focus to each of them in turn, is a stunning piece of technical work that subtly articulates the relationship between them in a clever visual manner. The widescreen frame is used to excellent effect with a mix of glorious long shots, sharp close-ups and sometimes a mix of both in the one shot. The cinematography by Aiace Parolin is superb, as is the set-design, which delivers a grim and apocalyptic town and adds much to the depressive, nightmare-like atmosphere of the film. The music and songs in the film also add immeasurably to that atmosphere. The idiosyncratic score, using mistuned guitars, is by Guido and Maurizio De Angelis, with songs sung by Susan Duncan Smith and Cesare De Natale, as Sybil and Guy (with Franco Nero also adding a bit of out-of-tune crooning). Smith sings in a strange high-pitched wail that adds a creepy and otherworldly feel and which, for the most part, simply describes the action on-screen; an approach that further enhances the overall oddness of the piece. Of much debate is the meaning of the film – the narrative is mysterious, haunted, anguished and shrouded in allegory; the landscape is infernal; Keoma is Christ-like in appearance (and is actually crucified on a wagon wheel at one point); he appears to preach a message of freedom and personal liberation but delivers merciless justice through the barrel of a shotgun. A witch (perhaps symbolic of death) dragging a cart behind her turns up to advise and remonstrate with Keoma at regular intervals – death is the only constant and perhaps the message is that only in death will we be truly free. Like all great films the overall meaning and the ending of "Keoma" is entirely open to interpretation. What there can be little debate about however, is the trippy brilliance of the overall film and bravura directorial efforts of Enzo G. Castellari. ( )