In the opening scene a lone man walks, behind him he drags a coffin. That man is Django. He rescues a woman from bandits and, later, arrives in a town ravaged by the same bandits. The scene for confrontation is set. But why does he drag that coffin everywhere and who, or what, is in it? Written by
Michael Lawn <email@example.com>
The Major's men wear red scarves over their faces to hide the fact that, because so many extras were otherwise employed on other pictures in the area at the time, they were left with only the "ugliest" ones, who were deemed not menacing enough. See more »
In several scenes, Django's machine gun fires uninterrupted for minutes on end. A machine gun of that kind would most likely overheat in the time used to fire the weapon. See more »
You can clean up the mess, now. But don't touch my coffin.
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At least in Europe, this other spaghetti western variation of Kurosawa's Yojimbo was probably even more influential than the film that created the genre, A Fistful of Dollars, with countless imitations, rip-offs, sequels, remakes. The title hero is again very different from traditional Western heroes, but this time he is a much more mystical (almost religious) figure than even the man with no name, and the places he goes to are even dirtier and more desperate and downtrodden than any place we would find in a Leone Western.
The impressive opening sequence shows Django dragging a coffin behind him through a muddy and featureless landscape, accompanied by Bacalov's title song (not Morricone, for a change), heading for his first battle. The coffin, his dark coat, and the mystique around him make him appear like an angel of death, invoking associations with the Red Death character in Roger Corman's Masque of the Red Death. Django is not quite as untouchable and supernatural, but the body count in his trace is comparable.
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