Let the Corpses Tan

Borderline incoherent.

That’s how The Hollywood Reporter described this all-guns-blazin’ modern-day mash-up of spaghetti westerns and ’70s Italian crime thrillers.

And they’re probably right, not that it really matters.

Let your brain go take a vacation, sink down into the cushiest part of your recliner, hit play, then wallow in the glitz, grunge, and (stylish) gore.

A pack of desperate hoodlums land at the home of a lovesick artist, and before you can say, “Dang, look at that lush Mediterranean scenery!,” the bullets are flying in every direction.

Stolen gold is the reward, but cold death haunts the countryside.

800 Balas

It’s a shootout at 2 PM.

It would have been conducted at high noon, but, frankly, everyone was drunk and still passed out cold then.

Following a merry, though sometimes morose, band of broken-down stuntmen who fill their days by staging Wild West shows to increasingly-smaller crowds, this Spanish lark expertly mixes humor with occasional pathos.

The gunfighters and brawlers in camp used to work on Spaghetti Western films, until Hollywood pulled up stakes and went back home.

Now, they pass the time by crashing through roofs for a few bucks, and a few more drinks.

Hey, it’s a living.