Charles Bronson led a decades long career in film and television and his tenure had several distinct chapters. Many people associate Bronson with his notable ensemble appearances in stone-cold 60s adventure classics such as The Great Escape or The Dirty Dozen. There's a dedicated following for Bronson's wild Cannon years that produced films like 10 to Midnight or Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects. However, for the majority of film watchers of the last few decades, Charles Bronson has become essentially synonymous with the Death Wish series. Bronson first played Paul Kersey - an even tempered architect turned into a grim specter of retribution by the murder of his wife and rape of his daughter - in 1974 and would go on to reprise the role four more times throughout the 80s and 90s. Though the quality of the sequels is debatable, the series undoubtedly cemented Bronson in the annals of great action movie stars. Bronson was already in his 50s when he acted in Death Wish and by that time he (or more probably his agent) was advertising himself as the "Top World Box Office Star" and claiming the mantle of the highest paid male movie actor in the world. However, not even ten years before that and after decades of acting in Hollywood, Bronson was doing walk-on parts for television and relegated almost exclusively to supporting roles. What happened between Charles Bronson as journeyman character actor and Charles Bronson as international superstar leading man was a body of European work that fundamentally altered Bronson's career trajectory. Before Death Wish or even The Mechanic, Bronson had become a massive draw - particularly in France and Italy but also throughout Europe - based on 4-5 years of work and 10 films that are very distinct from the movies he would become best known for. Bronson's virile physicality and remarkable countenance (fans named him Le Sacré Monstre in France and Il Bruto in Italy - the sacred monster and the brute, respectively) assuredly played a part in his rise to European prominence but he was also able to express a wider range of characters and genres, playing more than the taciturn angel of death he would later become so associated with. Bronson's European work presents a fascinating series of films and I would argue some of the most interesting work in his fifty year career.
Bronson's European odyssey largely began in 1967. It was the year that Charlie would appear in Robert Aldrich's absurdly stacked ensemble action epic, The Dirty Dozen. Dozen would prove to be a massive commercial success despite receiving criticism for its explicit violence from historically squeamish critics like Roger Ebert and Bosley Crowther. American audiences clearly had a taste for bloodshed and that would become increasingly apparent over the next decade. Success for The Dirty Dozen didn't necessarily translate into success for Bronson, though. While he made appearances in popular series like The Fugitive and The Virginian, film offers in Hollywood were not coming his way. Bronson liked the work but never felt like television was the right fit for him: "I decided that motion pictures were my game...but I guess I just wasn't the kind of actor they could put under contract" Bronson had been turning down offers from the foreign film market for some time, preferring to work domestically and wanting to be successful in Hollywood. However, his desire to work in films overcame his propensity to remain in California and he eventually acquiesced.
Bronson's first forays into the European film market were both co-productions to some degree - financed by European companies or shot in European locations but featuring other American stars. Guns for San Sebastian (1968) was a French/Italian/Mexican co-production starring Anthony Quinn as an outlaw who finds sanctuary from the Mexican authorities when the residents of a remote mountain village mistake him for their new priest. The village is subject to periodic raids by Yaqui natives and Bronson plays the role of Teclo, a half Yaqui vaquero who tries to convince the villagers to reject Christianity and embrace the Yaqui traditions so as to prevent further raids. Quinn's outlaw, unsurprisingly, isn't a tremendous asset for the spiritual health of the village but he is able to rally them to effectively fight the Yaqui; culminating in a massive battle scene finale. Despite gorgeous scope photography from the impeccable Armand Thirard (Diabolique, Wages of Fear), a killer score from Ennio Morricone, and production value that clearly made it onto the screen; Guns is not a particularly inspired take on the well-traveled tale of an exceptionally competent outsider helping a downtrodden village defend against an external threat. Helmed by Henri Verneuil, his buttery directorial style that serves him so well in elegant French crime pictures doesn't feel propulsive or muscular enough for a historical epic - though the action scenes are well composed when they do occur. The actors; Quinn, Bronson, Sam Jaffe, and Anajette Comer; are all charismatic enough but their characters aren't particularly interesting. Bronson was said to have enjoyed himself during the shoot but ultimately held a negative opinion of Guns. He felt that the picture came apart during the scriptwriting and seeing as that there are a half-dozen writing credits attached to the film, it's easy to agree with him. Still, Guns is notable as Bronson's first test of European waters.Bronson's second "European" film is primarily an American effort. Produced by Paramount and featuring big name American talent in front of (Yul Brynner, Bob Mitchum) and behind the camera (Buzz Kulik), Villa Rides was shot entirely in Spain and does utilize some international actors as well. Villa Rides is a later entry to the Zapata Western genre and while not a great film, it remains an interesting one. Sam Peckinpah had an early crack at the script and was potentially (along with Sergio Leone) offered the directorial chair. I don't know if he and Peckinpah collaborated or not but Robert Towne also has a writing revision. Since both Peckinpah and Towne were fascinated by violence, it's unsurprising that the final product is an extremely bloody affair. However where Peckinpah or Sergio Leone would have had something to say about the violence, Buzz Kulik's relatively straightforward direction and lack of political context renders the brutality totally incongruous with an otherwise standard western/adventure story. The characters we're supposed to be rooting for routinely execute dozens of people and at times it's even played for laughs. Notoriously, there is a scene where Charles Bronson's Fierro lines up three men (carefully adjusting their positions) so he can kill all three with a single bullet. This is meant as comedy(?) Still, The larger battle sequences are impressive and there's also a great deal of actual stunt airplane footage Brynner, Mitchum, and Bronson sharing the screen is fun even it none of them deliver stellar performances. Other notable cast members are Frank Wolff, Herbert Lom, Fernando Rey, and Italian model Maria Grazia Buccella. This is the first movie where Bronson wore his iconic mustache, his first with his new wife Jill Ireland, and one of the last movies where Bronson played a supporting role. Perhaps most importantly, it was during the shooting of Villa Rides that Bronson agreed to co-star in his first fully European production.
There are differing accounts of how Charles Bronson was eventually recruited to star alongside Alain Delon in Adieu l'Ami (known as either Farewell, Friend or Honor Among Thieves in the US). The director Jean Herman (later known as Jean Vautrin) claims that he, writer Sébastien Japrisot, and producer Serge Silberman spent a week in a Hollywood hotel seeking Americans to star in the picture. After striking out repeatedly they managed to sign Bronson on the final day they were in the country. I've also read that Delon was particularly impressed with Bronson in Machine Gun Kelly (1958) or that he became a fan of Bronson's paintings and wanted him specifically for the role. Contrastingly, I've heard the Silberman and Delon were pursuing Richard Widmark and only turned to Bronson as a last resort when Widmark was unavailable. Initial motivations aside, Bronson's then-agent Paul Kohner has provided the generally accepted version: that Serge Silberman made the trip out to Spain and offered Bronson the co-starring role, more money than he was used to, and the pitch that the European audiences were more attracted to characters than matinee idol looks (Alain Delon would seem to be the glaring exception). While Bronson's acceptance was a reluctant one, Kohner felt it was this decision that ultimately paved the way for Bronson's future ascent to superstardom.Adieu l'Ami is the story of two French Legionnaires, Delon and Bronson, returning to Marseilles after a deployment in Algeria. Propp (Bronson) attempts to lure Barran (Delon) to join him as a soldier of fortune in the Congo, but Barran insists on staying in Marseilles to repay the lover of a man who he accidentally killed. Barran's agreement involves breaking into a French corporation's safe to return some improperly taken bearer bonds and he works undercover as medical staff to perform the appropriate reconnaissance. Propp decides to stick around Marseilles and finds work pimping and running scams on his rich clientele (this results in a positively bizarre scene involving a rotating car park and a ventriloquist dummy). Barran commits to cracking the safe over a holiday weekend and Propp manages to insinuate himself into the job after overhearing millions could be held there. The two accidentally get themselves locked into the vault room with no food or water and while they are initially at complete odds with each other, they ultimately join forces to escape. The thriller set up continues to unfold in a convoluted fashion of reveals and betrayals ultimately erupting in a violent shootout.
Adieu l'Ami has an unorthodox structure and subverts many expectations one might have for what initially appears to be a heist picture. The robbery is not a work of slick professionalism but more of a test of endurance as the two men try to crack the safe code through brute repetition of number combinations. When the somewhat unsatisfactory heist concludes, there's another hour of film that supplies further tests of Propp and Barran's fidelity towards one another. The key to Adieu l'Ami is in the title as it's less of a strict crime picture and actually a film about the bonds of friendship forged between two men on the outskirts of society. It's the code of honor instantly recognizable in the films of Melville or Mann or Woo and it works beautifully here as Delon and Bronson have genuinely great chemistry together. Delon's coolness is to be expected and it pairs remarkably well with Bronson's playfulness and Cheshire cat grin (which may be more of a surprise to fans who only know him from his more dour, less animated roles). Of course, the physicality of both actors is also on display with extended sequences of them stripped to the waist, sweating, sometimes fighting, and sometimes embracing. Whether you consider this to be homosexual subtext or not, this is certainly a film squarely centered on male love. Bronson came away from l'Ami with an enduring respect for Delon but unfortunately didn't think much of the film or Jean Herman. Despite the somewhat awkward plot, l'Ami is an incredibly stylish picture and Herman's visual inventiveness is clearly evident. Working alongside cinematographer Jean-Jacques Tarbès (La Piscine, Borsalino, Two Men in Town), Herman does a great deal to reflect the psychology of the film and its principals visually even when things get hazy narratively. Regardless of Bronson's or critics' appraisals, Adieu l'Ami went on to become a massive hit in France, raking in $6 million (well over $50 million adjusted for inflation). Charles Bronson was officially a box office draw in Europe, joining the ranks of unconventional leading men like Jean Paul Belmondo, and he would go on to only play leading and co-leading roles for the rest of his career.