Trinity Is Still My Name
Directed by Enzo Barboni
- comedy
- western
The story
The two brothers Trinity and Bambino are exchanged by two federal agents and take advantage of the situation to steal a huge booty hidden in a monastery by a gang of outlaws.
What it’s like
Bright, sun-blasted Western daylight: dusty mesas, wide open desert and whitewashed mission walls under a hard blue sky, shot in saturated 1970s Technicolor with a bounce of warm yellow in every frame. The camera stays mostly loose and wide, letting slapstick and standoffs play out in full view rather than cutting tight, and the pacing is brisk but unhurried, with long comic beats broken by sudden bursts of bar-room brawling. Its sound is a jaunty, whistling western score with tinkling honky-tonk piano, and the fights come with exaggerated thwacks and bellowing laughter rather than anything real. Vibe: sunny, scruffy, good-natured roguishness. It suits a lazy Saturday afternoon, a comfort rewatch, or a night when you want to laugh without thinking. The emotional register is warm and playful, with a shaggy-dog affection between the two brothers, one quick-witted and one an amiable giant, who bicker, scheme and look out for each other. Intensity is moderate: plenty of punch-ups, pistol-whipping and gunfire, all cartoonish and bloodless, with little menace and no gore, sexual content or real cruelty. Made for viewers who love easygoing buddy comedy, spaghetti-Western spoofs and gentle, slapstick-driven fun.
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