Usually this Italian Charles Bronson outing gets torn to shreds, but I found this sturdy, vigorous and taut crime feature to be modestly well-done in what it sets out to achieve with its modest budget. This would be the first international production (the others to follow 'Red Sun (1971)' and 'The Valachi Papers (1972)') and the weakest of three films, which director Terence Young would have Bronson in the leading role. Bronson is reliable and looks in good shape. Along side him there are recognizable faces in James Mason, Liv Ullmann, Jill Ireland, Luigi Pistilli, Michel Constantin and Jean Topart. The lesser support cast do an admirable job, but the likes of Mason, Ullmann and especially Ireland hit the bottom. Mason basically chews on his lines. Ullmann doesn't look all that comfortable and Ireland just makes you cringe. The former two are wasted. Other than Bronson, it's the villainous side-kicks Pistilli, Constantin and the cold-blooded Topart that are the life of the party. The script falls on the flimsy side. A tightly drilled and violently gritty story, but elementary straight-laced all-the-same. A former soldier/drug smuggler attempts to start a new life in the south of France with his family, but some of his ex-comrades return to settle a score. What begins as slow-grinding, laying out the premise's predicament would gradually unfold into a collection of grit-your-teeth, cat-and-mouse set-pieces. Thrillingly fast, long-winded and twisty-turny cars chase being the pick of the lot. It's not until the last half of the story when the raw, brutal explosiveness kicks in. The pace moves well enough, and the scenic photography of the European locations is fittingly captured. The bravura camera-work solidly gets amongst the action and the swirling music score is penetratingly overstated in a gusty fashion. Durable action joint.
Review of Cold Sweat
