Consensus holds that Django, Kill--more properly, If You Live, Shoot!--is the most depraved, decadent, and altogether delirious spaghetti Western of that definitively depraved, decadent, and delirious genre. Tomas Milian plays a Mexican outlaw brought back from the dead to wreak vengeance on his former gringo colleagues. Too late: the gang has already fallen afoul of the most thoroughly corrupt town in Euro-trash history. Where to begin describing this twisted tarantella? It starts with so many crisscrossed flashbacks that you could mistake it for a sequel. One story pretty much ends, to be succeeded by another, like an old silent feature by people who used to making one-reelers. Then there's Mr. Sorrow and his pet army of black-shirted, teeth-flashing gay gunslingers. And the naked Milian, crucified and left to be ravished by rats, bats, and an iguana. Director Giulio Questi intended certain political overtones. Discuss among yourselves. P.S.: This is the uncut version. --Richard T. Jameson