DEATH OF A SNOWMAN

(A.k.a. BLACK TRASH; SOUL PATROL; THE HUNT FOR MR CLEAN)

It's Soweto, in the late 1970s. In the tone-setting opening scenes, a cigar-chomping black gangster meets a grisly end when his pink Cadillac is repeatedly rammed into by a speeding truck - and the driver then gets out and shoots him to pieces.

Enter Deel (Nigel Davenport), a seasoned police Lieutenant who arrives on the scene at the same time as journalist Steve (Ken Gambu). Steve asks Deel if he has any ideas as to who was behind the killing. "A gangland hit" is Deel's guess.

But Steve then receives a typed note at the newspaper office where he works, signed by a supposed vigilante group called 'War On Crime' and claiming to be behind the mobster's demise.

Steve dutifully takes the note to the police. Deel is compelled to show the letter to his cynical Captain (Pete Dyneley). But the Captain suspects that Steve is implicated to a deeper extent than he cares to admit - especially when the vigilantes later call him to forewarn of the murder of a local pimp named Styles.

Undeterred by the Captain's suspicions, Deel is determined to bring the culprits to a halt and is prepared to work with Steve - who for some reason they've taken to communicating with - in order to do so. It's sort of like Gibson and Glover in LETHAL WEAPON ... only, it isn't. At all.

Steve proves to be even more integral to the nailing of War On Crime when he's thrown into a car and whisked away for a chat with their boss. Although the boss remains in silhouette, he openly discusses his motivations and plans with the scribe ... and gives Steve just enough of a glimpse of his visage to enable a later police sketch.

Steve faxes the sketch to a detective friend in a bid to uncover the group leader's identity. Who is it - a militant? A gangster wanting the streets of South Africa for his own gains?

That's something I've already found out and I encourage all readers with a similar penchant for trashy, briskly-paced 70s grindhouse action thrillers to discover for themselves.

DEATH OF A SNOWMAN dabbles in South African politics, takes a critical look at the crime in the country and touches upon issues of racial division. But it does all of this without ever compromising Christopher Rowley's nifty direction and a script that seems hell-bent on racing from one schlocky scene to the next.

Although the plot is hokum (and familiar, without giving any spoilers) and the performances are rum, SNOWMAN impresses by virtue of its sheer cheesy B-movie absurdities.

The hairstyles alone are works of wonder, while shoe fashions impress from the very first scene onwards and huge collars are a dead cert throughout. And this is all before we even meet the character called Snowman (Madala Mphahlele)!

Marvellous, funky dialogue punctuates each scene (even peppered with ironically laughable displays of piss-poor humour on occasion), and the odd disco diva performance thrown in to pad out the running time thrilled me.

What more could you hope for? How about posh British people clumsily dubbing South African criminals, a pace that literally never rests, bloody but crude violence and some of the most jarringly unpredictable editing this side of Jesus Franco's 80s output.

Amazingly, it all works in a manner than no contemporary film could ever hope to get away with. This is the type of thing Tarantino was hoping to ape with DEATH PROOF. And of course, he didn't come anywhere close.

DEATH OF A SNOWMAN is presented in its original 1.66:1 aspect ratio and has been enhanced for 16x9 television sets. The picture exhibits specks and the occasional vertical line from the offset, while blacks and colours are a tad worn-looking, but this all aids in the transfer retaining a natural film feel to it. It's a good offering.

Likewise, the English mono audio (with most characters dubbed) is a solid, unspoiled affair.

Synapse's disc is region-free and opens with a static main menu page. From there, you can access the film via 12 chapters by way of an equally static scene-selection menu.

The only extra on the disc is a theatrical trailer, just over 3 minutes in length, baring the title DEATH OF A SNOWMAN. Nicely scratchy and paced at break-neck speed, this is a joy in itself.

Worth seeing purely for the scene where the bloke out of CHARIOTS IN FIRE acts tough in a tight jumper that accentuates his nipples and pot belly (about halfway through), DEATH OF A SNOWMAN is cheap and shit in many respects - but very, very entertaining nevertheless.

I commend Synapse for giving this film a new lease of life on DVD, and urge any like-minded fans of 70s trash to seek it out.

Review by Stuart Willis