HAIL, MAFIA (1965)

This low-budget, eighty-eight-minute film is indicative of mafia film "prototypes" leading up to the subject’s peak in The Godfather. It took no less than three production companies to put this in the can. I think the studio's janitor came up with the title. The film has a distinct “French-Italian” vibe with some dubbed dialogue to confirm it. The dominant element in the film is not acting. It is a period-specific jazz score that was apparently recorded in a parking garage. Without Hubert Rostaing’s score, however, this would be an extremely dull movie. Yet it almost intrudes some scenes as if there was an LP record playing in the same room you are watching television and you wish someone would turn it down a bit. Expect some abrupt film edits. One, in particular, has the camera jumping from a train to a city street to an arcade in a mere two seconds. Superimposed sporadically are titles to identify the location or the time of day. This film has been rightfully forgotten since its premiere. Discovering it in a new century does not make it a lost classic. For your approval, here are the main characters.

It is a rare occasion when two left-handed actors are in the same mafia film. Eddie Constantine, at the peak of European popularity, provides the cryptic opening voice-over narration describing his lot in life as the viewer watches him outwit an assassin in a Paris parking garage...er...recording studio. His single voice-over is rather meaningless, only acting as a device to introduce his persona. There are no additional voice-overs to help carry his character or the story along. Henry Silva found his niche in gangster films. His facial structure may give the impression of possible reconstructive surgery. Anyone familiar with him at this stage in his career knows he was essentially a supporting B-movie or television actor. Celebrating him in recent years does not make him one of the greats because he is still alive—as of this writing. Not to say he is uninteresting to watch. He and fellow mafia club member, the right-handed Jack Klugman, have never been on an “assassination run” before. Klugman was adept at displaying pessimistic or disgruntled characters. So he makes a believable hitman with a lot of angst. Silva tells him to relax and do what he tells him to do. Their road trip is a psychological study of how paid assassins' friendships can be so fleeting. Both are off to Paris to assassinate Constantine before he can testify against a mob boss indicted in America.

Minor characters are confusingly introduced, initially without a name. Elsa Martinelli has an insignificant role as a secretary or love assistant to Constantine. Micheline Presle is a French informer for Silva, who drives a 1965 Plymouth Fury through the streets of Paris. It becomes Silva’s loaner as he travels conspicuously “undercover” among Citroens and Volkswagens. Do not expect any action or suspense until the very end—which extends a bit too long. Expect a twist or two as the truth is revealed about Constantine.

Note: Providing a bit of detailed confusion is a poorly shot sequence as the duo head toward Constantine’s hideout. Silva pulls the “SS Plymouth” into a service station for petrol. As Silva walks to the pump Klugman gets out and informs him he will be right back. With seemingly no time elapsing, Silva gets behind the wheel and drives away. There is no definitive evidence that Klugman ever returned. What might be missed, in reality, is the slight bounce of the car as Klugman gets seated and his partial silhouette is visible in the passenger seat. This entire snippet takes about two seconds.