Franco Nero makes it look so easy in Django, effortlessly embodying the title character with an impeccable level of swagger that few actors could manage as well. Sergio Corbucci must've known what kind of magnetism he was dealing with, opting to shoot Nero in close-up in most instances and letting the actor do the rest. No matter what he's doing, be it dragging a coffin through a muddy, nearly dead town or playing a card game, he manages to make it look so cool, all through a simple glare at the camera.
That's why it's a shame that the rest of the film is so messy in comparison, as Django feels a bit like someone rambling on and on about stuff they wanted to see in a western, rather than feeling like it was written and assembled like a normal script. Just when you think it's going to reveal some kind of grander plot, it wanders off and seems to forget about events that transpire earlier on in the film, particularly in the case of the on-again/off-again racism of a villain. Nothing makes a film feel longer than it actually is when you can tell that it's not sure of what it wants to do, and Django suffers greatly for it.
The film does have more going for it than Nero, though, which does ultimately help it come out ahead of its grievous narrative issues. Corbucci has a good eye for framing beyond pointing at Nero's visage, particularly in the more graphic moments. Luis Bacalov does a rather fine job with the score beyond the ridiculously catchy theme song, trying on a lot of hats without each track feeling too dissimilar from one another. The atmosphere is also quite thick and palpable, thanks to a more realistic setting that feels lived in and, more importantly, long abandoned by those with a bit more sense to get involved. And even though it never amounts to much more than people talking about it rather than being properly addressed, I did like how the film cared enough about the racism involved with a lot of the fighting between the US and Mexico to at least mention it. All in all, the script issues prevent it from being a true western classic, but even one stare-down from Franco Nero is enough to make me forget about them for just a little bit.
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