
Euro crime craze, this extremely violent Spanish-Italian co-production managed to drift around in
theaters and then on home video for years under a baffling array of titles. Initially produced under the title Rico which was then bastardized as Ricco and then christened on U.S. DVD and Blu-ray as Ricco: The Mean Machine, this one initially came out in Italy with the ridiculous title Un tipo con una faccia strana ti cerca per ucciderti (or "A Guy with a Strange Face Is Looking for You to Kill You"). Among its many aliases are the unforgettable Cauldron of Death (where it caught the eye of early The Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film readers), Gangland, Heavy Dues, and The Dirty Mob. In the process it was also heavily censored at times with many versions coming in well short of the original 93-minute running time (usually around 89 or so, almost all diluting or removing the infamous gory castration scene). The film was also a high point for actor and Robert Mitchum offspring Christopher Mitchum, part of a '70s wave of movie star kids headlining movies themselves, who was having a crazy run of projects in Europe including The Summertime Killer and Murder in a Blue World long before he became a legend starring in Arizal movies.
the beautiful confidence artist Scilla (giallo queen Bouchet), while the gangsters stay busy executing people and dumping them in a big vat of acid from their front soap
factory.
here (DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono) and sound solid, with optional English SDH or English-translated subtitles provided. The Mitchum interview is ported over here plus an HD English-language trailer (with the Italian title), plus three substantial new featurettes. In "Malisa of the Mob" (17m4s), Longo chats about her young days around Europe during the hippie
era, her modeling and socializing that put her on the scene in Milan, and some of her key roles including this one (whose Spanish title she hates). In "An Hombre and a Cult" (18m26s), frequent Jess Franco actor Antonio Mayans (who pops up in this film as a crime-connected bartender) discusses the international market targeted with the film, his pleasant memories of the director, and his experiences doing other Spanish-Italian co-productions around the time. Finally "Cauldron of Ricos" (9m40s) is video essay by Eugenio Ercolani covering the film's title change when it crossed the Atlantic, the background of the Argentine director, and the prurient aspects that have made it an object of fascination for decades. It's a fine and informative piece, apart from the dissing of Yeti and Cry of a Prostitute! A 3m9s gallery is also included, and Easter egg hunters will also find an alternate 94m9s clothed version of the film, pulled from a timecoded SD source that still looks fine and makes for an interesting, watered-down point of comparison. The limited edition comes with reversible cover art, a slipcover, and an insert booklet featuring a fun essay by Mike Malloy full of praise for this film and Summertime Killer while also laying out the baffling number of titles and distributors -- plus a cautionary tale about inviting relatives to stop by when you're presenting a film like this to the public.