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.