Exploito All’Italiana: Poliziotto Sprint / ‘Highway Racer’ (Stelvio Massi, 1977)

Stelvio Massi’s appealingly titled ‘Poliziotto Sprint’ [less attractively/ accurately released as ‘Highway Racer’ in English-speaking territories] stands out as a real oddity in the canon of late ‘70s poliziottesci.

Entirely bypassing the mean-spirited narratives of violent crime, institutional corruption and bloody vengeance which usually define the sub-genre, this weirdly ambitious tilt toward the ‘car action’ dollar is instead built around the framework of an uplifting martial arts/sports movie in the ‘Rocky’/‘Karate Kid’ mould… only with driving cars around Rome in place of fighting.

Euro-crime fans will recognise that something is up with this one the moment Maurizio Merli turns up for business without his trademark moustache. I know - WTF, right? As far as sartorial faux pas in the world of screen tough guys goes, this one takes some getting used to.

In fairness however, it soon becomes evident that the two-fisted star of Violent Rome (1975) and ‘Rome Armed to the Teeth’ (1976) has resorted to the razor with clear purpose here - specifically, to signal a clean break from the indefatigable “iron commissioner” archetype he embodied in pretty much all of his other crime films. Indeed, perhaps uniquely in his catalogue, Merli is actually called upon to do some acting here, playing Inspector Marco Palma, a feckless young hothead who dreams of one day becoming the champion interceptor driver of Rome’s equivalent of the Flying Squad.

Always first to hit the asphalt when one of the those pesky, balaclava-clad bank robbery gangs are making a getaway, the single-minded Palma soon proves himself to be utterly incapable of realising his ambitions, disregarding orders, endangering his colleagues, wrecking cars and letting the baddies get away at every screeching turn - much to the chagrin of the hard-bitten Commissario Tagliaferri (Giancarlo Sbragia - scruffy, balding, cardigan), who stubbornly refuses to allow him access to the faster, souped up roadster he repeatedly demands to better compete with the crooks.

The relationship between Palma and Tagliaferri is complicated by the fact that, before retreating to a desk job, the latter actually was the previous generation’s equivalent of the the legendary, super-star police driver Palma aspires to become, lauded by the popular press for running down villains in his special issue Ferrari. As such, Palma (whose bedroom is still decked out with grand prix posters and model cars, as if he were a 13-year-old boy) hero worships his commanding officer to a frankly embarrassing degree, even as Tagliaferri wearily plods through the familiar routine of telling him yet again to shut up, obey orders and pay attention to the bloody road signs.

Before long, Palma (and we along with him) suffers a blunt moment of pathos when his latest high speed antics result in the death of his mild-mannered partner (Orazio Orlando) - an incident which understandably leads him to offer his resignation from the force in conventionally dramatic Merli fashion following a climactic bust up with Tagliaferri.

But, after being given a dressing down by his own superior officer vis-à-vis the need to apprehend the robbery gang led by charismatic Italio-French wheelman ‘Il Nazzardo’ (Angelo Infanti), Tagliaferri decides that planting an undercover man posing as a crack driver in the gang is the way to go…. and wouldn’t you know it, he knows a certain disgraced young petrol-head who’d be just perfect for the job. Heck, he’ll even dig up his old Ferrari for the occasion and give it new paint job and some go-faster stripes. Do you feel a training montage coming on, readers..? To the race track!

Simple-minded to the point of idiocy though its story may be, taken on its own terms, within the context of its genre and era, ‘Poliziotto Sprint’ soon becomes a rather enjoyable and refreshing prospect.

An underrated cinematic stylist, crime movie specialist Stelvio Massi tackles the material with pace, polish and, well, style, keeping things fast-moving and visually interesting at all times. (Like Joseph H. Lewis before him, Massi clearly never met a shot he couldn’t improve by moving the camera to really low angle and sticking some picturesque obstruction in the foreground.)

A low key, alternately hard-driving and wistful, score from Stelvio Cipriani helps matters too, whilst Massi & co clearly worked closely with acclaimed stunt co-ordinator Rémy Julienne to ensure that the obligatory chase and stunt sequences which make up much of the run time, if not always world-beating, are never less than thoroughly satisfactory.

Delivering all the hair-raising screeching through heavy traffic on open / non-permitted streets you could possibly ask for, the film incorporates some daring, hold-on-for-dear-life camera placements which seem to anticipate the innovations of George Miller’s ‘Mad Max’ by several years, with safety and good sense clearly slipping way down the priority list.

(Very much the highlight in this regard is a frankly jaw-dropping slo-mo sequence - framed as a flashback to Tagliaferri’s adventures of yesteryear - which clearly shows two cars careening at full pelt down Rome’s Spanish Steps, colliding and spinning mid-way down, with zero fucks apparently given for the famed historical landmarks which surround them on all sides; an effect only slightly marred by the fact we can see in the new blu-ray transfer that the totalled car is empty as it crashes down the steps.)

More surprising however is how well the film works as a character piece. Merli’s screen persona always had a vain, preening side to it, with sits well with the more vulnerable, self-conscious character he plays here, allowing Palma to emerge as a surprisingly sympathetic presence, in spite of his oft knuckleheaded behaviour. (By way of Characterisation 101, we learn that he grew up in an orphanage, lending a degree of heart string-tugging empathy to his otherwise rather crazed desire to prove himself a Big Man by excelling in his chosen field.)

A stalwart TV and theatre actor whose sparse genre credits include ‘The Blood-Stained Butterfly’ (1971), Sbragia meanwhile manages to bring real gravitas to his potentially clichéd role here, whilst Infanti (an Italio-exploitation regular, perhaps best known for appearing in the Sicilian segment of ‘The Godfather’) is charismatic as hell as our louche antagonist. If the ability to care, at least distantly, about the fate of our characters is key to success within the “triumph against all odds” framework within which ‘Poliziotto Sprint’ positions itself, then safe to say, Massi and his cast pass the test with aplomb.

What sets ‘Poliziotto Sprint’ apart above all though is its spirted rejection of the all-consuming cynicism which defined the polizziotesci sub-genre. Entirely devoid of sleaze or sexual content, the film also features remarkably little violence, to the point where it could almost count as family friendly viewing - a circumstance which perhaps accounts for its low standing amongst Euro-crime fans.

Indeed, not only do we get to marvel here at the unique-within-the-genre sight of a machine gun-toting bank robbery gang NOT flipping out and massacring civilians, but I believe that the only death which occurs prior to the film’s conclusion is actually that of Merli’s aforementioned partner, killed solely as a result of our hero’s stupidity!

As startling as this avoidance of bloodshed may seem however, there is of course narrative purpose behind the film’s restraint. In stark contrast to the slavering, animalistic bastards who usually serve as the villains in these movies, Infanti’s Il Nazzardo, rocking a series of variations on ‘70s coke dealer chic, cuts a suave, even attractive, figure. A stylish, morally equivocal rogue, he has that whole “honour among thieves” thing down pat, even reprimanding his gang members at one point for showing insufficient respect to the Police Commissioner by calling him rude names. (“He too is a man… he’s just on the other side from us,” Il Nazzardo insists.)

By ensuring that Infanti and his gang never do anything really bad, the filmmakers allow him to retain a degree of sympathy, allowing his inevitable confrontation with Merli at the film’s conclusion to play out as a sporting contest between mutually respectful equals, rather than as the desperate, self-destructive fight for survival more commonly encountered in the final feel of a poliziottesco.

A notion which owes more to tales of Arthurian chivalry, or to traditional judai geki samurai films, than to anything you’d expect to find in a modern crime drama, it is this very yearning for a more old-fashioned, good-natured approach to cinematic masculinity - perversely crow-barred into the middle of one of the most nihilistic sub-genres known to man - which ultimately makes ‘Poliziotto Sprint’ so memorable, and, in its own weird way, so infinitely charming. Oh, and, yeah - nice car chases too.

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