Enzo Barboni’s *Crime Busters* (1977) is a kinetic blend of Italian bravado and Miami sun, a film that thrives on the improbable chemistry of Terence Hill and Bud Spencer as two drifters stumbling into police badges. The direction, by Barboni (credited as E.B. Clucher), is less about precision than exuberance, leaning heavily on the duo’s physicality to propel a narrative that’s equal parts absurd and endearing. Barboni, a veteran of spaghetti westerns, trades dusty plains for Miami’s vibrant docks and bowling alleys, using the city’s pastel palette as a playful backdrop to the duo’s cartoonish brawls. His camera lingers on the chaos car doors knocked off in a meticulously timed sequence, a pub fight where Hill’s feigned disability and Spencer’s mock deafness spark hilarity channeling the silent-comedy spirit of Buster Keaton. Yet, the direction falters when the pacing sags, particularly in the second act, where repetitive fistfights dilute the momentum. The screenplay, also by Barboni, is a loose scaffolding, prioritizing gags over coherence. The plot two unemployed men mistakenly joining the police after a botched robbery embraces its own ridiculousness, but the dialogue occasionally stumbles into dated stereotypes, particularly in the treatment of Laura Gemser’s character, whose exoticized role feels like a relic of 1970s cinema. Hill and Spencer’s performances are the film’s heartbeat. Hill’s sly, boyish charm contrasts Spencer’s gruff, bear-like presence, their love-hate dynamic evoking a lived-in camaraderie that transcends the script’s limitations. Their fight scenes, choreographed with balletic excess, are less about violence than vaudevillian spectacle no blood, just exaggerated punches that land with a comedic thud. The music by Guido and Maurizio De Angelis is a standout, its infectious, whistling theme embedding itself in the viewer’s memory, a sonic signature that elevates every chase and scuffle. Miami’s locations, from canals to neon-lit streets, are shot with a sun-drenched clarity by cinematographer Claudio Cirillo, grounding the absurdity in a tangible world. While *Crime Busters* lacks the narrative depth of Barboni’s *Trinity* series, its unapologetic embrace of silliness and the duo’s magnetic interplay make it a joyous artifact of a bygone era, best savored for its nostalgic exuberance.