Given a free reign in New Chacos, the town in which he was born and where his Mexican parents were murdered when he was a child, Jose Sanchez (Tomas Milian) does what he knows best - breaks the law. But like anyone who has received love, affection and moral guidelines in their infancy, Jose has moments of lucidity when he realises that he is doing wrong. The problem is that crime and the inherent ease with which Jose can take whatever he wants have become an addiction; an addiction which has eaten away at his moral fibres so much that even the townsfolk who have helped to free him from the gun of bounty killer Luke Chiltern (Richard Wyler) are treated by Jose with contempt.
If there is one scene which compounds the extraordinary acting range of Tomas Milian into its unique whole, it occurs in this movie. Much of the action in The Ugly Ones takes place in the tavern of New Chacos owned by ex-gunman Novak whose niece Anna Eton (Ella Karin) helped free Jose from the law. In an intensely studied scene Milian portrays Jose as torn between obvious glee and tears as he contemplates robbing a young drifter who has just left the tavern. As he is emotionally torn in two his henchmen watch him. He is obviously a strong and charismatic leader to this gang of thuggish cut-throats, but there is a definite hint of caution among his gang in dealing with his schizoid personality. Finally, as if to put his mind at peace before their collective act of violence, Jose caresses, then cradles his head, on the butt of one of the gang member's guns before uttering his name, "Senor Gomez", a confirmation of his power and status.
The Ugly Ones is a very classy western indeed which transcends its black hat/white hat scenario with finesse. It's a classic "siege" western but this time the enemy is within; Jose and his amoral gang of desperadoes as one enemy and the guilt and cowardice of the townsfolk as another. "Only the rich have to fear men like Jose Gomez, not the poor. He's one of us." Their voicing of sympathy for outlaw gangs often forced into delinquency by social circumstance is countered by Chiltern's simplistic view of the situation, "Today, that child's a murderer." The film is loaded with interesting notions of why Jose has become a killer. We hear of his parents' deaths and his family's land being stolen and also that he killed a Yankee soldier in a brawl following a barrage of racist taunts. So with all this prejudice heaped on him solely because of his Mexican nationality, is it any wonder that Jose is forced to become a ruthless criminal? Why should Jose pull rank and behave himself? The answer is simply because the people of New Chacos still care for him and still remember the innocent child who used to play with Ethan the blacksmith (Mario Brega). For this reason they helped him to escape Chiltern and for this reason Jose holds the bounty killer captive.
But Jose spurns their affections and pathetic pleas for the violence to stop, preferring instead to drink himself into a stupor while his brutish friends engage in a particularly wild version of the "shooting and drinking" games which are as familiar to the spaghetti western as laughing Mexicans. When finally Jose and his men have stripped the town's businesses and caused as much destruction as possible it is Anna, Jose's childhood friend (and possibly sweetheart) who is brave enough to free Chiltern so that he can face Jose in a surprisingly vigorous showdown.
The exceptional location work and baroque visual touches can be attributed to Enzo Barboni who lensed Sergio Corbucci's ferocious Django in the same year while the complex analysis of Jose's criminality can probably be credited to co-script writers Don Prindle and Jose Maesso as well as Eugenio Martin. The film also boasts some of the finest supporting performances in the genre, particularly Ella Karin who, uniquely for a female in a rampantly macho genre, is the only one who will stand up to Jose's violence while it is implied throughout that their emotional ties are the strongest. But the most phenomenal aspect of The Ugly Ones is Tomas Milian, staking his claim in his genre debut as a formidable western leading man and delivering what is in retrospect, the spaghetti western's most complex and most electrifying performance, equally tormented, resentful and vicious right down to his final gasping breath.
If there is one scene which compounds the extraordinary acting range of Tomas Milian into its unique whole, it occurs in this movie. Much of the action in The Ugly Ones takes place in the tavern of New Chacos owned by ex-gunman Novak whose niece Anna Eton (Ella Karin) helped free Jose from the law. In an intensely studied scene Milian portrays Jose as torn between obvious glee and tears as he contemplates robbing a young drifter who has just left the tavern. As he is emotionally torn in two his henchmen watch him. He is obviously a strong and charismatic leader to this gang of thuggish cut-throats, but there is a definite hint of caution among his gang in dealing with his schizoid personality. Finally, as if to put his mind at peace before their collective act of violence, Jose caresses, then cradles his head, on the butt of one of the gang member's guns before uttering his name, "Senor Gomez", a confirmation of his power and status.
The Ugly Ones is a very classy western indeed which transcends its black hat/white hat scenario with finesse. It's a classic "siege" western but this time the enemy is within; Jose and his amoral gang of desperadoes as one enemy and the guilt and cowardice of the townsfolk as another. "Only the rich have to fear men like Jose Gomez, not the poor. He's one of us." Their voicing of sympathy for outlaw gangs often forced into delinquency by social circumstance is countered by Chiltern's simplistic view of the situation, "Today, that child's a murderer." The film is loaded with interesting notions of why Jose has become a killer. We hear of his parents' deaths and his family's land being stolen and also that he killed a Yankee soldier in a brawl following a barrage of racist taunts. So with all this prejudice heaped on him solely because of his Mexican nationality, is it any wonder that Jose is forced to become a ruthless criminal? Why should Jose pull rank and behave himself? The answer is simply because the people of New Chacos still care for him and still remember the innocent child who used to play with Ethan the blacksmith (Mario Brega). For this reason they helped him to escape Chiltern and for this reason Jose holds the bounty killer captive.
But Jose spurns their affections and pathetic pleas for the violence to stop, preferring instead to drink himself into a stupor while his brutish friends engage in a particularly wild version of the "shooting and drinking" games which are as familiar to the spaghetti western as laughing Mexicans. When finally Jose and his men have stripped the town's businesses and caused as much destruction as possible it is Anna, Jose's childhood friend (and possibly sweetheart) who is brave enough to free Chiltern so that he can face Jose in a surprisingly vigorous showdown.
The exceptional location work and baroque visual touches can be attributed to Enzo Barboni who lensed Sergio Corbucci's ferocious Django in the same year while the complex analysis of Jose's criminality can probably be credited to co-script writers Don Prindle and Jose Maesso as well as Eugenio Martin. The film also boasts some of the finest supporting performances in the genre, particularly Ella Karin who, uniquely for a female in a rampantly macho genre, is the only one who will stand up to Jose's violence while it is implied throughout that their emotional ties are the strongest. But the most phenomenal aspect of The Ugly Ones is Tomas Milian, staking his claim in his genre debut as a formidable western leading man and delivering what is in retrospect, the spaghetti western's most complex and most electrifying performance, equally tormented, resentful and vicious right down to his final gasping breath.