No, they don't do movies like this anymore. A tough one about self-hatred, mayhem and self- destruction: Franco Nero as a down-&-out reporter, Corinne Clery as his sexy, completely hollow spouse, plus David Hess doing his usual good- humored-and-mean-as-hell thing. "Autostop Rosso Sangue" is sleazy, sexist, ultra-violent, but not without some unforgettable moments: The naked Clery in front of a trailer holding a huge rifle in the middle of the night is like a hastily written, edgy but brilliant poem found in a tattered paperback left in a cheap motel. For a few short hours in his life, Pasquale Festa Campanile, creator of some of the worst Euro comedies ever, turned into a poète maudit of the most cynical kind. This is the kind of grindhouse cinema nobody can embrace with seventies nostalgia: mature, brutal, knowing, never "cool", always cold, gripping and utterly nihilistic. Anything else you would ask for?