Review: Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man (1976)

(aka Uomini si nasce poliziotti si muore)
Directed by: Ruggero Deodato
Starring: Marc Porel, Ray Lovelock, Adolfo Celi
Written by: Fernando Di Leo
Music by: Ubaldo Continiello
Country: Italy
Available on: DVD (Kino Lorber)
IMDb

Poliziotteschi, or the Italian crimefilm, is some hard-ass shit.

The poliziotteschi are no different than most Italian B-movies films from the late 1960s bleeding over into the mid-1980s. A familiar and financially lucrative genre is absorbed, swished around in the mouth like a hard pull from a bottle of MD 20/20, and barfed out into a surreal, often perverse mockery of its Western counterpart. These Italian masters of the grotesque knew how to rake in that cheddar, and they knew the key to it was to take all of the carnage and horniness of their American equivalents, crank the amps up to eleven, and watch the cashola roll right in.

With this in mind, I present to you, Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man, although this review honestly applies to any entry in the loopy pantheon of Alfredo Noodle Crime Capers. Clearly a call-out to Starsky & Hutch and the Dirty Harry films, LLACDLAM embodies all of the elements that make the poliziotteschi genre such a loathsome treat. Vomited from out of his questionable id just a few years before the same said id swerved whole hog into full-on moral bankruptcy with Cannibal Holocaust, Ruggero Deodato gifted the devotees of garbage cinema with this mean-spirited, often hilarious, lurid little nugget.

From the very beginning, the tone set is so weird, so off, it lingers throughout the entire viewing. This is a positive, in case you were wondering.

The film opens with an out-of-place, odd little pop ditty rather reminiscent of the chirpy, off-putting theme song from Lucio Fulci's Four of the Apocalypse. Immediately you are taken off guard, which allows you to enter this world with an open mind. You're ready for anything. The universe of LLACDLAM is not one for cringing wussies. This is a world where innocent people are maimed, even children. Often, the maiming occurs in a situation so absurd it borders on the comedic. Women never seem to exist in any other state other than complete hysterics, tempered by the occasional smack with the back of a scowling cop’s hand or whatever article might be lying close at hand. You know, like a rolled up magazine or a fly-swatter. Now, I am not saying I approve of this sort of behavior, just letting you have a peep into what you are getting into when you nose-dive into one of these lasagna-caked crime capers. Oh, and the smacking is usually administered by the hero of the film, and I use the word hero very, very loosely. This is important, because in the realm of the poliziotteschi, there really isn't a clear-cut hero. The protagonists are all dick-swinging shitheads who openly abuse their power.

Example: Cops chase thugs through the crowded streets of Rome. A very thrilling motorcycle chase, I might add — filmed illegally, as well. The thugs wipe out while our heroes pull off stunning, improbably Evel Knievel-level stunts. One perp appears to be alive but gravely wounded. One of the aforementioned shithead cops, Fred by name, kneels down to ask the injured, blood-drooling thug if he is okay. Thug grins as if to say, “Why yes, officer. I believe I am going to pull through.” Fred, shithead cop, then takes the thug’s head in his hands and snaps his neck like the cap off of a bottle of Lone Star.

Perhaps Fred is done with this crime bullshit and just feels it safer to nip this one in the bud right here and now. Perhaps Fred is a sociopath. Perhaps both. Doesn't matter because it's awesome. This scenario is repeated over and over. Pesky concerns like due process are thrown right out the window. You see, Fred and Tony (the other miscreant cop) belong to a special squad of law enforcement goons dedicating to taking out the really odious bad dudes. This team pretty much operates with a blank check as far as their methods of "correction" go. There are no consequences for these men. In fact, I feel confident in saying these two gents are so far gone morally the very idea of consequences is a far away, hazy fairy tale. Most men fear them. All women want to bone them. Children flee from the screeching of their tires in terror. Through it all, you kind of find yourself rooting for them.

Then you have to look at yourself in the mirror afterward and ask yourself … am I a Tony? Am I a Fred?

Overall rating: 8 out of 10