A wronged widow wreaks a trail of revenge across the prairie in the retro horror/spaghetti western They Call Her Death, now streaming on Shudder and in limited roadshow screenings via Vinegar Syndrome.
Look, I’m a sucker for well-presented retro cinema. Filmmakers putting the work in to replicate the style and feel of a specific era of film, moreso when delving into Italian genre flicks of the 70s, will go a long way to smooth over any issues (even if said presentation is often the issue). The 70s Italian western retro of They Call Her Death is an earnest flight of fanciful filmmaking. Like the myriad of bloody shootouts, writer-director Austin Snell hits the target most of the time.
They Call Her Death could almost make me believe I just cracked open a new restoration on 4k of an Italian western from Arrow Video. From the astounding, and pitch-perfect, tone-setting opening song and the credits to match (had me cheering), to the bloody swatch of deep red blood over-the-top violence in the climax, They Call Her Death could easily sit on the shelves next to the endless Django sequels.
It is a bloody revenge western after all (btw, not a rape revenge if that’s a concern). Molly & Thomas Prey are trying to live a simple life outside a prairie town. After a lawyer is murdered, the blame is pointed at reformed criminal Thomas, leaving him with a hole in his head and a blood-splattered widow. Not one to just take the killing, Molly tears through the town, blowing the head off a conspiracy… and its actors. It’s a spaghetti western, but there’s a through line of the supernatural to give further life (and deaths). Visions of the decaying corpse of her husband and a beautiful, grotesque Death (sythe and all) add an eerie otherworldly quality. These, and other horror elements, give a little tint (heh) of supernatural giallo. This I appreciated greatly, right up my alley.
Snell shoots the film on 16mm to great effect. The stock gives a grainy, often-washed-out, lived-in texture. As noted above, simply doing this and keeping it up will continue to keep a smile on my face. It deepens the darkness and gives the copious amount of blood the vibrant reds you’d expect. It’s a film that is all in on the experience, with a gleeful, violent streak a mile wide. Snell has an obvious love of the genre, and it shines through. Everyone gives an earnest go, even if it doesn’t always work.
It doesn’t always keep up the ruse. A few moments here and there look clear and digital; the sort that feels like unrefined dailies. Pick up shots? Running out of film that day, but need the shot? For whatever reason, these shifts break the reality of the film ever so slightly. Mix in the obvious artificiality of the locations can break the belief suspenders for many. I note it was filmed at Old Cowtown in Wichita, a well-regarded and accredited museum. My note is not against those who run it; they do a fine job per my research, but the film often screams, “This is an open-air museum.” But I also get it, Snell has a minuscule budget and a big vision, and if that’s what’s needed, you gotta take what you got. Additionally, a handful of lines or even line-readings show the modernity, which might be more to the amateur end of acting than Snell. Some may check out of the film when the world is broken, but for me, it’s a shrug as I liked the rest.
However, for whatever issues are elsewhere, Sheri Rippel, as Molly, is an absolute firecracker. She embodies her righteous anger and spirit of vengeance both emotionally and physically. Whether battling with words while chipping away at the truth or with a variety of weapons, she holds the film in her hands. A standout has her take on a pair of masked men rushing her homestead (might be my favorite sequence). She has a burning intensity that drives the film across any speed bumps.
Her Name is Death makes the most of a tight budget, selling a retro Italian giallo-horror Western ninety percent of the time from the truly perfect opening credits to the ultra-violent concussion of a conclusion (as if the rest wasn’t violent enough). Sheri Rippels shines with a fierce command of the screen, leading the audience to cheer on her vengeance-fueled mayhem. Kudos to Austin Snell for making a lofty idea work with brutal aplomb. They Call Her Death is currently traveling the country with special showings via Vinegar Syndrome. If not available theatrically around you, it’s also streaming on Shudder.