Revolver
(aka: Blood in the Streets )
(1973)
review by Head Cheeze

Sergio Sollima's Revolver teams up British screen legend Oliver Reed and Italian superstar Fabio Testi in one of the most riveting (and terribly overlooked) conspiracy dramas of the 1970's. Reed plays Vito Caprini, a Milano prison warden whose young wife is kidnapped by a pair of thugs who demand that Caprini release inmate Milo Ruiz (Testi), a two-bit robber for hire, or his wife will face the consequences. Caprini arranges Ruiz's escape, but when the convict offers no explanation as to who the kidnappers are and what it is they want with him, Caprini and Ruiz are suddenly embroiled in a multi-layered political conspiracy that has them running from cops and crooks alike across Italy and France in an effort to save Caprini's wife and themselves.

Revolver is one of those hidden gems that got buried under major studio fanfare and, while a big hit in Europe and Japan, never got quite it's due in the States upon it's initial release. When I first saw the film in the late 1980's it was under it's US Theatrical title Blood in the Streets, in a heavily edited and poorly processed print. While I remember enjoying the film in it's truncated form, I was amazed at how much more I enjoyed the original version as presented here by those wonderful folks at Blue Underground. This film totally kicks ass! I mean, Blood in the Streets was a cool breezy flick, but Revolver, the uncut version, is an absolute blast! Reed and Testi sizzle off of each other (clumsy dubbing not withstanding) and with Sollima behind the camera expertly carrying us through the twists and turns of Massimo De Rita and Arduino Maiuri's screenplay. The film has elements of a crime drama, a conspiracy flick, and even a shade of giallo making for a violent and suspensful Eurocrime classic!

The transfer is widescreen anamorphic and looks superb, with the only serious artifacting occuring in the opening and closing credits. The rest of the film looks as sharp as a switch-blade. The mono soundtrack is loud and crisp and showcases Ennio Morricone's score quite nicely without losing dialogue in the mix. Blue Underground also includes a wealth of supplements in the guise of a new retrospective mini-documentary, trailers radio spots and mixed ephemera rounding out a great package. An original language track would have been a welcome addition, but alas we have the English dub and it is with that we must live, sadly. However, the fact that this movie is on DVD at all is worth 4 stars alone.