HANNIE CAULDER  lasts only 85 minutes, but that’s 84 too many to spend with this idiotic rape-revenge western, 1971 nonsense that has Raquel Welch, outfitted like a frontier sex-bomb, becoming a gunfighter to avenge the messy murder of her husband and her disgusting assault by the stupid, vile and filthy Ernest Borgnine, Strother Martin and Jack Elam. Robert Culp helps her, while Christopher Lee, Diana Dors and Stephen Boyd show up in cameos.

Bluntly directed by Burt Kennedy, the script mixes coarse comedy with bloody mayhem.  Again, already, with the Spanish locations! Which is more barren, the Almeria desert or the screenplay by David Haft, credited as Z.X. Jones? Welch’s husband produced it for $1,000,000, and it made $4,500,000 in the States, (66th place) continuing the beauteous Raquel’s string of misfires. That a number of critics actually like this is sufficient reason to question veracity as a concept. We liked looking at her as much as the next caveman, but Hannie Caulder tests the boundaries of desire. It does boast a decent cinematographer in Edward Scaife, whose more digestible assignments include Night Of The Demon, 633 Squadron, Khartoum, and Dark Of The Sun.

The rape scene is foul: 1971 had more than it’s share—A Clockwork Orange, Billy Jack, Straw Dogs, The Hunting Party, The Animals.