Burt Reynolds was one of the coolest guys in the 1970s. From Deliverance to The Longest Yard to Smokey and the Bandit, he solidified his place as the laid-back scoundrel everybody loved. However, before that, he was a stuntman turned TV star looking for his big break. In 1966, he flew over to Spain to shoot a western for an Italian director named Sergio, but it wasnât quite what he expected. Instead of an iconic man who may or may not have a name, Reynolds slapped on a black wig, sprayed on some bronzer, and played the title character in Sergio Corbucciâs Navajo Joe.
Clint Eastwood, a TV cowboy on the show Rawhide, had come over to Spain to make the Dollars trilogy for Sergio Leone and become a huge international star, so when Burt Reynolds, a former stuntman and regular on the long-running show Gunsmoke, was offered the chance to come over and star in an Italian western himself, he saw a golden opportunity to skyrocket to fame and fortune. He was, however, very let down when he realized the âSergioâ who was directing was not Leone at all, but Corbucci, a contemporary of Leoneâs who made tons of B-pictures in his long career. Reynolds reportedly hated making Navajo Joe and only ultimately did it because heâd already signed the contract.
The film concerns a Native American (Reynolds) who seeks revenge on a gang of bandits, led by the sadistic Vee Duncan (played by Aldo Sambrell, a go-to henchman in Leoneâs films). Duncan massacres Indian tribes for $1 per scalp until that practice is made illegal. He is then approached by a mysterious man who tells him about a train full of government money making its way to the small town of Esperanza. The man says he can open the safe if Duncan and his men can steal it. Everything would have gone perfectly if a certain Navajo named Joe wasnât keen on getting some gut-stabbing payback. Joe gets some help from a couple saloon girls and a banjo player whoâs good with a slingshot, but mostly itâs just one against the world until it reaches the final showdown.
Sergio Corbucci was a director who loved excesses. He is probably the second best director of spaghetti westerns, and what he lacks in Leoneâs vision and innovative shot composition, Corbucci makes up for in violence and body count. He made three of what I would consider the best spaghetti westerns of all time: Django (1966), The Great Silence (1968), and Companeros (1970). These films all have a certain something that makes them indelible and worthy of watching; Navajo Joe has a huge body count and Burt Reynolds in a wig, phoning it in. Not quite the “something” I was talking about.
There are just so many ridiculous things in it. Exhibit A: The train the baddies are meant to rob is literally a half-size steam engine with two, count âem, TWO cars. Okay, fine, so it’s an easy job, but Duncan comes to rob it with no fewer than 25 guys on horseback! Itâs complete overkill. In most spaghettis, the villain has a gang of between five and ten guys, most of them just pistol fodder; in this one itâs an endless barrage of no-name bad guys. Exhibit B: Joe does not use a pistol. He uses a Winchester rifle which he shoots rapid-fire. This isnât particularly ridiculous in and of itself, but he never reloads it. Not uncommon for westerns. Joe kills most people stealthily, though, sneaking up on them, tackling them, and then stabbing them in the belly with his enormous knife. This is ridiculous for two reasons: 1) nobody ever hears him even if he walks right past someone, and 2) none of his victims ever scream for help or in pain prior to their death. He apparently knows the very place in a personâs belly that if stabbed renders them completely unable to make noises. So imagine him doing this 20 times. And the bad guys NEVER WISE UP. Theyâre always going off alone to investigate something and Joe just kills them.
Reynolds clearly wasnât interested in being in this movie, as evidenced by his rather lackadaisical performance and the fact that he doesnât dub himself. All Italian films of the time were recorded silent so that whichever country bought the film could dub it in their language. As a result, you often get voices that donât match the lips. This is not one of the better spaghetti westerns from the standpoint of dubbing. You get people saying things like, âListen to what Iâm about to say, we must find this Indian and kill him, donât you understand?â just so the dialogue will match the mouth movements of the Spanish and Italian actors speaking their respective languages. Burt Reynoldsâ voice is pretty distinct, so when heâs voiced by âRandom Hero Voice Guy #3,â itâs pretty noticeable and hilarious.
If Reynolds is a fairly uninteresting hero, Aldo Sambrell is a pretty excellent villain. His is a face you remember if youâve seen any of Sergio Leoneâs westerns, but he only got a chance to be a lead in lesser films. Duncan is maybe the vilest and most complex villain youâd ever see. Heâs supposed to be a half-breed, white and Native American (though clearly heâs Spanish), and he hates both halves. He kills Indians en masse out of his hatred of his mother for being taken by a white man, and he hates white people for what his father did to his mother. He truly canât win. And you know heâs a bad guy because he shoots anybody — men, women, children, mothers, sheriffs, deputies, horses, and even a priest. Heâs brutal and seems to take joy in his actions, which is pretty much the best kind of villain that exists.
Now, Iâve read somewhere that this is one of Quentin Tarantinoâs favorite spaghetti westerns. This is incredibly obvious while watching, as several things from Navajo Joe find their way into Tarantinoâs films. Firstly, the music: QT is no stranger to using existing tracks or music cues for his films, and he tends to use Ennio Morriconeâs music more than others. Here, he uses Morriconeâs haunting âSilhouette of Doomâ for several scenes in Kill Bill, Vol. 2 and Navajo Joe‘s title track for when Bill walks off to his death. To be honest, the music is probably used more effectively in the latter film. Some of Joeâs actions are used in another Tarantino movie as well; Duncan scalps Native Americans and Joe takes great offense to this and so leaves his mark, two triangles on top of each other, on the forehead of one of his victims, to show that âNavajo Joe was here.â This was clearly taken as part of Aldo the Apache and the Basterdsâ M.O. for Inglourious Basterds, a film that is basically the best spaghetti western not to take place in the Old West or made by Italians.
Navajo Joe is a very uneven, although heartily enjoyable, bit of Italian cheese (so, mozzarella) with a great performance by Aldo Sambrell and a silly performance by a pre-fame Burt Reynolds. If you like spaghetti westerns, or Quentin Tarantinoâs latter day work, definitely check it out. And if you want to see some of Sergio Corbucciâs better films, check out the films I mentioned above, specifically Django, to which Tarantino paid homage in his most recent film, Django Unchained.
I was also a fan of Burt Reynolds’ mustache growing up, but this movie was confusing to me, even as a kid. Even more so because I actually have an ancestor named Navajo Joe (my great-great-grandfather, I think). And not in one of those “my great-grand-stepfather was a Cherokee knight!” ways either, my maternal grandmother’s maiden name was Joe, and I’m half-Navajo from Arizona. It was the exact same situation as making Chuck Connors’ Geronimo, and filming it in Italy, with no actual Natives on hand to tell them what a dumb idea it was.