Initially the film reprises Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, with its hero Lulu at his lathe, churning out the maximum number of gizmos (he's not sure what they're for), contemptuous of bosses, unions and student agitators alike, simply trying to earn enough to maintain a chaotic personal life. Then he loses a finger in an accident. Anticipating the school of Loach, its committed social analysis is leavened with humour and arresting anecdote. What you don't get in Loach is Morricone's aggressive score or Volonté's star turn as the archetype of capitalism's poor bloody infantry. Petri unflinchingly reproduces Lulu's world of earsplitting sound and nothing pleasing to look at.