text: The director was probably still in his early learning stages when he tried his hand at westerns. Have a look at the outfits. Everybody looks well-scrubbed, well-brushed, well-dressed and well-ironed as though ready for church. Even the horses look well-groomed and shiny. This is a WESTERN, for crying out loud! It's supposed to look dusty, nasty and sweaty. And then there's the amateurish acting of the females in this bird. The whole lot, a dozen or so, all pretty and well-endowed, were just freshly raped and widowed, but hardly a tear flows. Instead they all look with great interest (if not downright lust) at the newly arrived magnificent seven who they subsequently feed, bandage and comfort with love during their battles with the bandits. The same directing criticism goes for Lee van Cleef, who does a reasonable good acting job. Our Lee, playing the law, just lost his dear wife. But Lee, hard as organic rock, shows no emotion whatsoever and finds himself within days of his spouse's demise in the arms of a juicy widow with whom he, together with her brood, walks off into the future. The cad. And then there's another thing that always kind of bothers me with this type of films: it doesn't matter how many dynamite-induced explosions take place in the middle of a pack of some 50 horses, never mind how many shots are being fired at the rabble on top of them, only the crooks get killed and the nags always go their way rejoicing in one piece. (I know...silly moi...it's just a movie...). It's not the worst western ever made, but prepare for some serious yawning.