Last few western before the end of February.

Day of the Outlaw (1959), directed by Andre De Toth. This is De Toth’s final western and it is bleak. It is both of its time and ahead of its time. It is of its time in the cast of ne’er-do-well characters who brutalize and threaten a town, especially the town women. It is ahead of its time in its presentation of an anti-hero as the main character. This is a revisionary western before the term came into prominence. Shot in a snowy mountainous location (Wyoming), the film gives us characters at the extreme limits of emotion; they exhibit hate, lust, greed, anger, fear, and desire. The plot pits two men, Blaise Starrett (Robert Ryan) and Jack Bruhn (Burl Ives), against each other in a standoff that can only end in death. Starrett is a bitter rancher who pines after another man’s wife and who hates the coming of barbed wire to the range; Bruhn is a former military man who leads a gaggle of thieves and brutes, and whose control of these brutes is breaking down. De Toth’s camera moves slowly as it follows the activities, and it accentuates a stifling constraint even amid a sprawling landscape. The black and white photography, courtesy Russell Metty, nicely expresses the cold and the divisions among the various factions in town. The winter weather also underlines the starkness and iciness of things. The snowy conditions prefigure films such as Corbucci’s The Great Silence (1968), and Altman’s McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971). This is an impressive mood piece.

Apache Warrior (1957), directed by Elmo Williams. This low budget western purports to be a “true story.” It tells a story about the Apache Kid (Keith Larsen), a scout for the cavalry who finds himself outside the law and on the run. Trailing him is his one-time friend Ben Ziegler (Jim Davis). Then there is Marteen (Rudolfo Acosta) as a villainous Native American. None of this has much to do with actual history, and the action is largely played out on sets. The film tries to be sympathetic towards Native Americans, but really this is a film in which a white guy assists a Native guy to escape the authorities and the bounty hunters, after the white guy realizes the Native guy is really his friend. This film does not have a lot to recommend it, except perhaps for some historical interest as a 50s western trying to overcome the familiar stereotypes, and not quite managing to do so.

Westbound (1959), directed by Bud Boetticher. This is the least interesting of the Randolph Scott/Bud Boetticher films. Boetticher called it "mediocre." He directed it as a favour to Scott who had one more film on his contract with Warner Brothers. The main character, Scott of course, lacks the troubled backstory that most of the main characters in the other films in the so-called Ranown cycle have. And the antagonist also lacks the charm of Randy's adversaries in the other films. The film's lacklustre story is perhaps evidenced by the lack of screen shots available on Google. This lack is lamentable because the film does contain some lovely panoramas and the most colourful stagecoach I have seen in a western. The actors are amiable, and the story trots along at a brisk pace. If this is a lesser collaboration between Scott and Boetticher, it is not without interest. Give it a try.

True History of the Kelly Gang (2019), directed by Justin Kurzel. This film throws everything, including the kitchen sink, at us, from the opening overhead shot to the final shoot-out that outdoes Bonnie and Clyde by a long shot. The film is certainly not without interest, but I confess I found it somewhat less than fully engaging. We are to see the infamous outlaw as a product of poverty and abuse and strange affection when he was a boy. He has mentors whose motives are suspect, to say the least. He has a mother who drums into him his "destiny" as a child of Ireland. The Irish connection ticks the box of colonialism and colonial exploitation, but we have precious little awareness of the people who did indeed inhabit this terra nullius. Ned never does understand who he is or what he wants. The cross-dressing reminded me of another Arthur Penn movie, The Missouri Breaks, although here the cross-dressing does not have the delirious nuttiness that it has in Penn's film. And so what to conclude? When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.

The Power of the Dog (2021), directed by Jane Campion. This film has received much notice recently, and for good reason. The cinematography is superb, the acting fine, the pacing slow and burning, and the story clever and timely. Let’s take the story, for a moment. This is a western with nary a pistol nor a rifle. No fisticuffs here, no barroom brawl, and no racing hither and thither on horseback. Native people do appear, importantly but not prominently. Near the beginning of the film, we have a brief but magnificent cattle drive. Instead of branding of cattle, we have castrating of bulls. This last detail is telling. This western is interested in exploring life on a fairly isolated ranch in Montana in 1925. The memory, and saddle, of an old hand, Bronco Henry, and the presence of motor cars points both back to the old romanticized west and forward to the new west beginning to emerge. We are on the cusp of things both crepuscular and dawning. As the plentiful commentary on the film points out, this western explores and critiques the traditional masculinity of the western genre, and it does so with subtlety and intelligence. Also, as some have noted, this is a western in the vein of a film such as Meek’s Cutoff (directed by Kelly Reichardt, 2010). Way back in the days of Butch and Sundance and Pike Bishop commentators spoke of revisionary westerns; well, those westerns were hardly revisionary in any deep sense. The Power of the Dog is.

 And some more westerns.

The Tall Men (1955), directed by Raoul Walsh. This is a western in four acts: the opening snow-bound action in Montana, the interlude in San Antonio, the cattle drive north from Texas to Montana, and the final battle between Sioux and cattlemen. As this brief summary indicates, the film is sweeping, giving us a grand tour of the west. The cinematography is noteworthy, the scenes in snow especially exciting. As for plot, this is rather wan, giving us a love triangle. Col. Ben Allison (Clark Gable), a confederate veteran, riding north to Montana with his brother Clint (Cameron Mitchell), encounters Nathan Stark (Robert Ryan), a man on a mission, a mission to become wealthy and powerful. After the brothers try to rob Stark, he convinces them to join him in a cattle venture, taking some 4,000 cattle from Texas to Montana where they can be sold well above normal prices in the south. As they ride through the snow and blizzards of Montana, they come across a group of settlers, one of whom is Nella Turner (Jane Russell). Both Nathan and Ben have eyes for Nella. Thus begins a love triangle that travels south to Texas and then back to Montana with adventures along the way, especially adventures with Natives who are presented in the stereotypical way. They are simply the enemy – no characters, no motives, no lives beyond shooting at the white people. Such content is no longer fun, if it ever was. What makes the film attractive is the sweep of its action, the cinematography, the 300 horses and 4,000 long-horned cows. Walsh is an accomplished director of action, and he works well here.

 

William Castle westerns, Part 1. William Castle is perhaps best known for the 1959 horror flic, The Tingler. He did, however, make a series of westerns in the early to mid 1950s. Here I notice Klondike Kate (1943), Masterson of Kansas (1954), Conquest of Cochise (1953), Jesse James vs the Daltons (1953). As the titles indicate, the films deal with historical figures, but they do so in very unhistorical ways. For example, in Jesse James vs the Daltons, Bob Ford, alive and well, turns up to let everyone know that Jesse James is also alive and well. This specific bit of information comes some years after Jesse is supposed to have been shot by Ford. And so it goes, as these films play fast and loose with history. Cochise is played by blue-eyed John Hodiak. But rather than quibble over such things, I will note that these films have one thing that stands out: colour. Castle’s use of colour is striking, especially in Conquest of Cochise. Clearly Castle and his technicolour coordinator thought about colour patterns even down to the carefully dressed characters. The colours in these films rival MGM at its best. The studio here is Columbia. Then we have the rather wan attempts at redressing the presentation of Native peoples, a la Daves’s Broken Arrow (1950). As westerns go, these films are watchable, but do not expect anything above the average. Actors of note include George Montgomery, John Hodiak, Robert Stack, James Griffith, and Tom Neal. Female actors include Joy Page, Barbara Lawrence, Glenda Farrell, and Nancy Gates, none of whom are A-list actors. Same goes for the men.

 

William Castle westerns, Part 2: here we have The Gun That Won the West (1955), Battle of Rogue River (1954), Duel on the Mississippi (1955), and Uranium Boom (1956). The first two of these are bona fide westerns, while the second two are on the periphery of the western genre. Three are in colour, and exceptional colour as we saw in the first batch of Castle westerns, and one, the last one in 1956, is black and white. Again, we have an interest in historical events presented unhistorically, in native people, and feisty women. Actors include George Montgomery, Lex Barker, Dennis Morgan, Richard Denning, Martha Hyer, Patricia Medina, Paula Raymond, and William Talman. Once again, these films are watchable, if undistinguished. Uranium Boom is, I guess, a modern western that has something of the feel of The Treasure of Sierra Madre (1947). Duel on the Mississippi takes place in the late 18^th or early 19^th century. And yes, there are two duels, one with sabres and one with machetes! The Gun That Won the West takes place just prior to the Civil War and deals with the new Springfield rifle. Battle of Rogue River is about, well, the battle of Rogue River. George Montgomery here saves the lives of many Natives and non-Natives. Things in these films are pretty predictable.

 

The Walking Hills (1949), directed by John Sturges. Sturges can be relied on to deliver character-driven westerns. This one is one of his slighter films, but it does focus on greed for gold, a theme we see in more celebrated films such as The Treasure of Sierra Madre (1948) or Lust for Gold (1949). Location shooting in the Alabama Hills and Death Valley is fine, and the set piece finale, a furious wind storm, is impressively worked out. This is a modern day western where most of the action takes place in the desert. Randolph Scott as Jim Carey is at his stoical best. Ella Raines as Chris Jackson is the love interest, and in a twist, she fancies the fugitive Dave ‘Shep’ Wilson (William Bishop) rather than Jim. In any case, Jim seems more attached to his mare and her foal than to any people. Along for the adventure are such stalwarts as Edgar Buchanan, Arthur Kennedy, John Ireland, and Jerome Courtland. As usual in such ensemble pieces, everyone has a secret. My one disappointment is the way the film, and the characters, treat Jim’s Mexican helper Cleve (an uncredited Charles Stevens). He appears to perish in the sand storm, but no one seems to notice.

 

Jack McCall, Desperado (1953), directed by Sidney Salkow. This one has George Montgomery in the title role, and with Montgomery in the lead, you can bet that this film plays fast and loose with history. This Jack McCall, desperado, is the same one who turns up in Deadwood and shoots Wild Bill Hickock, only in this version Hickock is as bad as they come and McCall is an innocent fellow just trying to prove his innocence while seeking to avenge his parents who have been murdered by Hickock (Douglas Kennedy) and McCall’s cousin, Bay (James Seay). The film begins with McCall shooting Hickock, and then we learn all the intricate details in flashback, as McCall defends himself in court. This film has lots of action, including a nifty jail break when McCall manages to make a paper doll from a newspaper in his cell, and use this to project a shadow on a wall that looks like a man hanging. While this shadow dangles and wavers, McCall makes gagging sounds, as if he is choking. The sheriff comes running, opens the cell to save the hanging man, and - well you can guess the rest. Now you have to give the film makers credit for this novel jail break. We also have lots of riding and shooting and fisticuffs, so much that there is little time left for developing characters. The film is in colour, and has some good outdoor shooting. But, other than the strange twist to history, this film is not particularly memorable. Montgomery is his usual stoic figure, and Kennedy sports a hefty moustache. Sam Katzman is the producer, and we can depend on him to deliver entertainment.

 

Ten Wanted Men (1955), directed by Bruce Humberstone. Humberstone directed many B movies (e.g. Charlie Chan films, Tarzan films, and so on) before he tried his hand at westerns. This is the first of three westerns he directed, and it is not bad. It is also not great. It is middling. The plot has big rancher John Stewart (Randolph Scott) going up against shyster saloon owner and would-be cattle baron Wick Campbell (Richard Boone). The catalyst for their feud is the arrival of Stewart’s brother Adam (Lester Matthews) and young nephew Howie (Skip Homeier). Young Howie takes a fancy to Maria Segura (Donna Martell), and doing so raises the ire of Wick who wants Maria for himself. So begins a war of sorts between Wick and John, Wick bringing in a gaggle of baddies headed by Frank Scavo (Leo Gordon), and including Lee Van Cleef and Denver Pyle. One of my favourite actors, Clem Bevans, also makes a brief appearance. The action has its furious moments, but things work out predictably. None of the characters shows much in the way of development. We have good guys and bad guys. Men fight for women. Young Howie wins Maria, and John comes to appreciate his long- time friend Corinne Michaels (Jocelyn Brando – yes sister of Marlon), and marries her. Happy ending – full stop.

Young Billy Young (1969) directed by Burt Kennedy. Kennedy has made some agreeable westerns. This one, however, has a tired air about it. It is the familiar revenge story of a marshal out to get the man who killed his son, and along the way he meets a young fellow who becomes something of a stand-in for the son the marshal has lost. The marshal is Ben Kane (Robert Mitchum), whose name checks one box: High Noon. Even Ben’s costume is reminiscent of Will Kane’s in the latter film. Billy Young (Robert Walker) is the youngster who becomes Ben’s ally. Then we have saloon gal, Lily Beloit, played by Angie Dickinson reprising her role in Rio Bravo. Along for the ride are the likes of John Anderson as Boone the antagonist, David Carradine as Boone’s son, Paul Fix doing his best to imitate Walter Brennan’s Stumpy, Jack Kelly as saloon owner and woman abusing John Behan, and briefly Rodolpho Acosta as a Mexican bad guy. The locations are pleasant to look at, the action serviceable, and the performances all a wee bit tired, even sleepy. The set-up at the beginning implies that this is a coming-of-age story, but it is not. Young Billy is pretty much as mature as he will ever be right from the get-go. He, like the rest of the cast, is only slightly developed. The film is a good example of a genre wearing thin.

 

 February, time for a few westerns.

The Capture (1950), directed by John Sturges. Sturges is a reliably sturdy director, and The Capture manages to hold one’s interest despite a somewhat flabby middle. The story is told, mostly, in flashback as Lin Vanner (Lew Ayres) tells a Mexican priest (Victor Jory) how he got caught in the predicament in which he finds himself, a man on the run, wanted for murder. In other words, the film has the feel of film noir. Like Sturges’s Bad Day at Black Rock (1955), The Capture is a western set in a time of oil fields and automobiles. The plot has Lin Vanner killing a suspect in a robbery, unintentionally. Conscience takes hold and Lin suffers from acute feelings of guilt. Eventually, he makes his way to the ranch where the widow of the suspected thief lives. This is Ellen (Teresa Wright). She has a son, Mike (Jimmy Hunt). Soon we have a new family, but things go awry because Ellen learns that Lin is the person responsible for her husband’s death. Lin leaves to clear his name, and the name of Ellen’s deceased husband who was innocent of the robbery. Of course, we have known all along who the real culprit is. The action plays out neatly, and things end – need I say, well? Not as good as a host of other films by Sturges, but worth the time nevertheless.

The Maverick (1952), directed by Thomas Carr. William Elliott (aka 'Wild Bill' Elliott) plays no-nonsense Lieutenant Pete Devlin who, along with a few other soldiers, is charged with taking some overly zealous cattlemen from one fort to another fort for trial. In other words, this is one of those westerns that follows a group of people on a trail ride, a trail ride fraught with danger of one kind and another. One kind involves disgruntled Sergeant Frick (Myron Healey) who is handy with a knife. Then we have grandmother and granddaughter (Florence Lake and Phyllis Coates) who tag along with the soldiers and their prisoners. Granddaughter Della Watson proves to be a clear-eyed shot when the time comes for the shootout finale. As for Elliott, his stiffness as an actor serves him well in this role of a by-the-book humourless officer who eventually warms to the fetching Della; her shooting clearly impresses him. This is a small but efficient western with many familiar faces (e.g. Gene Roth, Rand Brooks, Denver Pyle, Terry Frost).

Hellgate (1952), directed by Charles Marquis Warren. For a Lippert Studio Production, this is an exceptional western. It tells a story reminiscent of Ford’s The Prisoner of Shark Island (1936). Sterling Hayden plays Gil Hanley, a veterinarian and former Confederate soldier who now lives quietly with his wife Ellen (Joan Leslie). One evening the Hanleys receive a visit from an outlaw named Brechene (James Anderson) and his gang. Brechene has somehow hurt himself and needs some patching up. Gil helps the man and the baddies depart. Before you can say ‘Jack Robinson’ Gil finds himself accused of being in cahoots with the bad guys. He has a brief trial and then is sent to the most terrible prison in the territory, Hellgate, named for the ugly wooden door or gate with huge spikes that covers the cave that contains the prison cells. The prison warden is Lt. Voorhees (Ward Bond), a hater of “guerillas.” You can imagine that Gil does not have a picnic here. He suffers in various ways before eventually managing to extricate himself from this painful situation. Made on a dime, Hellgate nevertheless impresses with its sets, costumes, and general griminess. The coffin-like “oven” where recalcitrant prisoners are punished is a nice touch. All in all this is an impressive little offbeat western.

Duel at Silver Creek (1952), directed by Don Siegel. This tight little oater has characters with names like Lightning Tyrone (Stephen McNally), the Silver Kid (Audie Murphy), Johnny Sombrero (Eugene Iglesias), Dan Muzic (Griff Barnett), Dusty Fargo (Susan Cabot), Tinhorn Burgess (Lee Marvin), and Rat Face Blake (James Anderson). Names like these might suggest a western parody. The film, however, has more in common with the noir films made at the time with its voice over, dark nighttime photography, femme fatale Opal Lacy, aka Brown Eyes (Faith Domergue), and compromised hero. The plot has claim jumpers opening an apparently legitimate business in Silver City. The business owners are Rod Lacy (Gerald Mohr) and his supposed sister Opal. On her first appearance in town, Opal murders a man who is being tended by the local doctor. This man could have identified the claim jumpers had he lived. On first viewing, this is a shocking scene. The film has a couple of other rather surprising scenes of violence, one of which involves Opal (enough said). Opal also seduces the local sheriff, Lightning Tyrone, who used to be the fastest gun around. Now he tries to disguise an inability to pull the trigger of his six-shooter because of a bullet wound that has ostensibly healed. Then we have two youngsters, the gambling Silver Kid and the girl who has attracted his attention, Dusty Fargo. Throw in the smiling, smirking Johnny Sombrero and you have a cast of characters straight out of the comic book world. Lee Marvin appears as a minor character. Don Siegel, who would go on to make Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and later a number of films with buddy Clint Eastwood, directs with briskness. I am quite fond of this modest entry into the westerns of the 1950s.

The Lonesome Trail (1955), directed by Richard Bartlett. This Lippert production has John Agar as Johnny Ruch, a Union soldier who returns from the war to find his place burned and his land taken by local bad guy, Hal Brecker (Earle Lyon). Curiously, Wayne Morris receives top billing, but he appears as a minor character, the saloon bartender, Dandy Dayton. The love interest is Pat Wells (Margia Dean) who agrees to marry Brecker to help her father, Dan (Edgar Buchanan) save his ranch. Of course, she really loves Johnny. The most memorable character is old codger and friend of Johnny’s, Crazy Charlie Bonesteel (Douglas Fowley). Fowley does his old codger act well; he was 45-years-old at the time. Fifties westerns delighted in gimmicks, perhaps the most memorable appearing when Sterling Hayden goes into a showdown using a harpoon in Joseph H. Lewis’s Terror in a Texas Town (1958). In The Lonesome Trail, Johnny goes into a showdown with a bow and arrow. The film offers nothing special. It also offers actor Ian MacDonald playing Apache Gonaga, one of the weaker aspects of a film that pretty much wanders through familiar territory.

The Broken Star (1956), directed by Leslie Selander. The first scene in this film has deputy Frank Smeed (Howard Duff) ride up to a cabin and shoot an unarmed man. He then takes something from the cabin and rides away. The “something” he took is money that belongs to the local ranch baron who wants it back. What follows is a tangled web of a tale in which Frank Smeed lies like the orange menace we know today. He interacts with saloon singer Conchita (Lita Baron) and her fiance deputy Bill Gentry (Bill Williams), and with his boss Marshal Wayne Forrester (Addison Richards). Marshal Forrester wants all the facts of the shooting before he will forget about Smeed’s actions. Smeed claims he acted in self-defence. Meanwhile the Apache Nachez (Joe Dominguez) has seen what transpired and knows Smeed is a murderer and thief. Nachez does not speak English, but he writes what he saw in Spanish, and he also confides in Conchita. Then Smeed shoots him. Smeed is very bad. This film may be low budget, but it is nifty in its plotting and its script: “What the heck kind of a fandango was that?” One might say this of the film itself. Selander is the director of many westerns, and he knows how to keep things moving. 

Domino Kid (1957), directed by Ray Nazarro. This is a western that looks like an extended television programme, with Rory Calhoun as the eponymous hero dressed like Calhoun’s character in the television series The Texan that played at the same time in the late fifties. The plot is familiar. Domino, as he is known, returns after the Civil War to find his father has been murdered by five men and his ranch abandoned. Domino sets out to deliver justice to the five men because the law has failed to capture them. Predictable. The one twist here concerns a smooth character, Wade Harrington (Andrew Duggan), who is buying up real estate in the region and wants Domino’s ranch. Harrington is also romancing Barbara Ellison (Kristine Miller). Since Domino does not know the identity of the fifth man, the viewer assumes it is Harrington. Anyway, all this plays out efficiently and we have several showdowns and some painted sets. By no means is this a distinguished film, but for western afficionados, it might well satisfy. I guess I ought to explain the ‘Domino’ bit. The ranch that Domino and his father own has a six-dotted domino for its identifying sign. The film has a number of familiar faces, some uncredited: Roy Barcroft, James Griffith, Ray ‘Crash’ Corrigan, for example. Eugene Iglesias also turns up; he is perhaps best know as Johnny Sombrero in Don Siegel’s Duel at Silver Creek.

Ride Out for Revenge (1957), directed by Bernard Girard. Rory Calhoun plays Tate, town marshal of Sand Creek and friend of the nearby Cheyenne. In fact, Tate is in love with Willow (Joanne Gilbert) who is the daughter of Chief Yellow Wolff (Frank DeKova). Yellow Wolff is murdered early in the film, and the murder proves the catalyst for trouble between the town and the Cheyenne, now led by Yellow Wolff’s son, Little Woff (Vince Edwards). You can see by the actors I name here that the Cheyenne are played by white actors, alas. Despite this, the film does set out to criticize white racism. The most despicable of the characters is Captain George (Lloyd Bridges), although the rest of the townspeople are not much better, including the widow Amy Porter (a miscast Gloria Grahame). The young boy, Billy (Michael Winkelman) is learning to hate the native people like all the adults around him, with the exception of Tate. The film has some strong moments: Billy’s death, the death of Yellow Wolff, the vitriol of some of the characters, especially Amy Porter. The film follows the more famous Delmer Daves film, Broken Arrow (1950), although here the hero, Calhoun’s Tate, and the Native woman manage to survive and make a life together. The name of the town here resonates, although the well-known historical event we know by the same name does not occur here. This is a worthy low budget western from the 50s. The cinematography by Floyd Crosby, who also photographed High Noon, is excellent.

Four Fast Guns (1960), directed by William J. Hole, Jr. Narrated by crusty old Edgar Buchanan who plays Dipper, the town inebriate, Four Fast Guns tells the story of Tom Sabin (James Craig), who is mistaken for the Town Tamer when he arrives in a place called Purgatory. A sign at the town’s entrance reads: “When You Ride into Purgatory, Say Goodbye to God.” The bad guy here is saloon owner Hoag (Paul Richards), who plays a mean piano and who is confined to a wheelchair. Hoag has a habit of banging on the piano keys when he is frustrated or angry. Hoag also hires three fast guns to eliminate the Town Tamer. One of these hired guns is Johnny Naco (Brett Halsey), who also happens to be Tom’s brother. Talk about a moral dilemma. Another moral dilemma concerns Hoag’s wife Mary (Martha Vickers), who takes a shine to Tom, but who also asserts that she will be faithful to her husband. What’s a girl to do; she takes Tom for a walk to the wishing stone. This low budget western does offer sharp wide screen cinematography from John M. Nickolaus, Jr., and several clever set-ups. The screenplay is also amusing. For a low budget sleeper, this one has its charms.

The Rare Breed (1966), directed by Andrew V. McLaglen. McLaglen is the son of John Ford regular, Victor McLaglen, and Andrew’s films are notable for having members of Ford’s stock company. Here the Ford regulars include: James Stewart, Maureen O’Hara, Ben Johnson, Harry Carey, Jr. The cinematographer is William H. Clothier who worked with Ford on such films as Cheyenne Autumn (1964), Donovan’s Reef (1963), The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962), and The Horse Soldiers (1959). In short, The Rare Breed is a Fordian light film. The plot involves the bringing of Hereford cattle from England to Texas in the late 19^th century. Martha Evans (Maureen O'Hara) and her daughter Hilary (Juliet Mills) bring the Hereford bull Vindicator to America; on the ocean journey Martha’s husband has died. In America, the two women find obstacles to their plan to breed Vindicator in America, but they eventually find help from a cowpoke named Burnett (James Stewart), and later Burnett’s friend, the Scotsman, Bowen (Brian Keith). As Bowen, Brian Keith chews the scenery in an over-the-top performance that has him playing bagpipes in one scene. Bowen and Burnett become rivals for the affections of Martha. The big set piece comes near the end in the cold Texas winter which offers a test of Vindicator’s ability to survive in a hostile environment. Along the way, we have plenty of fisticuffs (a trademark of McLaglen’s work). All in all, this is an amiable romp with a number of likeable performers who are nearing the end of their careers.

Ulzana’s Raid (1972), directed by Robert Aldrich. Aldrich has made several excellent films, including westerns. Ulzana’s Raid is one of these. The film is clearly a Vietnam-era work that examines the moral complexity of a clash between two cultures. Burt Lancaster as the scout McIntosh understands this situation in which two peoples are hell bent on killing each other. He understands that the conflict has little or nothing to do with individuals, and everything to do with culture and race. The young Lieutenant DeBuin, recently graduated from West Point and the son of a clergyman, does not. DeBuin sees everything through his Christianity. Between these two men is Ke-Ni-Tay (Jorge Luke), an Apache who has joined the army. Ke-Ni-Tay happens to be the brother-in-law of Ulzana (Joachin Martinez), and also the person who kills and them buries Ulzana. The film is brutal and uncompromising in its examination of the viciousness of war and the violence perpetrated by both sides. Lancaster’s performance nicely brings together both resolve and weariness. He understands the world is broken. The young Lieutenant just cannot grasp the reality of a world in which people – men – go about unfeelingly killing each other. Early in the film there are clear echoes of Ford’s The Searchers, and both films give us a dark vision of the American west, and hence a dark vision of America, a land where killing has become stitched into the fabric of the country. The killing may have begun as a result of imperial expansion, but it has become just the way things are. In this film the distance between right and wrong has broken down. The cinematographer here is the great Joseph Biroc.