A Second Time Around for Defending a Town

 

My second favorite John Wayne film is Rio Bravo (1959), directed by Howard Hawks. So for years, I was reluctant to watch El Dorado (made in 1966, released in 1967), the loose remake also directed by Hawks and starring Wayne. I figured it couldn't help but be an inferior rehash of the original, despite a strong cast and the same great director. 

But I finally gave in a few years ago and now curse myself for waiting so long. It's not as good as Rio Bravo, but you really don't need to compare them. The later film does hit many of the same plot beats, but it has a personality of its own.

Leigh Brackett, who wrote the screenplays for both films, started by loosely adapting the 1960 novel The Stars in Their Courses, by Harry Brown. At first, she was really happy with it, calling it "the best script I had ever done in my life." But as things moved along, the story morphed into the Rio Bravo remake, which Brackett disliked "because I hate doing things over again." Hawks, though, ran with it and the end result (with all respect to the brilliant Brackett) is pretty darn nifty. He told Robert Mitchum that the film had "No story, just characters." That isn't entirely true. There is a fun, solid storyline running through the movie. But it is the characters that sell it. 

John Wayne is Cole Thornton, a professional gunfighter, who teams with an old friend named J.P. Harrah. Harrah is the sheriff of El Dorado, but he's also fallen into severe alcoholism after an unhappy affair with a woman.

Mitchum's character parallels Dean Martin's character in Rio Bravo. The difference is that Martin's character arc was subordinate to the main plot of defending the town against an evil, powerful rancher. In El Dorado, the plot is almost incidental to the character moments. So Hawks' comment was true to a large extent.

And the supporting cast is wonderful. James Caan played Mississippi, a protege' of Thornton who carries a sawed-off shotgun because he's a lousy shot. Arthur Hunnicutt is the old-time Bull Harris, another ally to the good guys who announces his arrival in town by blaring away on a bugle. Charlene Holt is Maudie, a lady who has eyes for Thornton. Michele Carey is Josephine "Joey" MacDonald, a fiery young lady who is good with a rifle and, during the movie's extended prologue to the main story, shot Thornton. This causes long-term problems, because Thornton still carries around that bullet inside him and it occasionally causes him bouts of crippling pain that paralyzes his gun arm.

Joey, by the way, thought she had good reason to shoot Thornton, but later ends up as another ally.

The villains are Ed Asner as evil rancher Bart Jason. Christopher George, sporting an ugly facial scar and a fast gun, is Jason's main enforcer Nelse McLeod. Together the two actors generate several mega-watts of quiet menace.

There's a lot of humor in the character interactions among the good guys, but Mitchum's arc of pulling himself out of an alcoholic haze and becoming useful again is handled believably. And the action scenes are great. The good guys in this film can be ruthlessly pragmatic--not worried at all about giving their opponents an even chance. There's a scene in which two men attempt to lure Thornton and Mississippi out the back door of a saloon into an ambush. Realizing their intentions, Thornton forces one of the two men out the door to be shot by his own guys. 

There's a shootout in an old church, with the bells being rung by bullet hits, that's fantastic. And the final scene, with Jason holding a hostage inside a saloon while McLeod and Thornton (with a paralyzed gun arm) get ready to face off just outside that saloon, is a wonderful finale. 

Sidenote: Is Wayne's character having a paralyzed arm a metaphor for the fact that both the star and the genre were aging and more fragile than they used to be? Something to think about. 

In the 1960s and the early 1970s, Wayne was experienced enough in making Westerns to turn out one solidly entertaining movie after another. 1969 brought us his third best movie with True Grit, but we also got El Dorado, Big Jake, Cahill U.S. Marshall, The War Wagon, The Train Robbers, Chisum, and The Sons of Katie Elder. These movies aren't among the classics, but the world would be a poorer place without them.

Short Story Genre Survey, Part 6

 

cover artist unidentified

Today, we ride out to the Wild West.

Sports

Adventure

Mystery

Crime

Horror

Science Fiction

Fantasy

Western

War

Elmore Leonard's sparse, powerful prose made just about every short story he wrote a fascinating and engrossing read. He dived right into a story, pulling the reader in with him and not letting that reader go until the story ended,

For example, there's "Apache Medicine" (originally titled "Medicine"). Published in the May 1952 issue of Dime Western Magazine, it starts with an army scout named Kleecan meeting a drunken Indian while out on the trail.

The Indian is Juan Pony, the beloved son of Pondichay. Pondichay is a skilled warrior and leader who has only recently been brought back to the reservation at the cost of 41 dead soldiers and civilians, so getting him mad again would not be a good idea.

But Juan is drunk and feeling bloodthirsty. Kleecan, defending himself, has no choice but to kill him.

He buries the body, but knows it's likely that Pondichay will eventually find the grave and want vengeance. Kleecan, though, doesn't have that much time to worry about it before he's taken hostage by four outlaws who force him to be their guide.

This, though, might be a good thing. Kleecan has two problems--Pondichay and the outlaws. But, if can work things correctly, he might be able to use the latter problem to solve the former.

It's a short story--only 10 pages as reprinted in The Complete Western Stories of Elmore Leonard. But it doesn't feel rushed or abrupt. Leonard was a master of picking the exact right words to tell a story without picking too many words. In these ten pages, he tells a story that properly introduces the characters and gives us a proper beginning, middle, and very satisfying ending.

You can read the story yourself HERE.

Dutchman's Flat

cover art by Sam Cherry

 

Louis L'Amour was at least as skilled in writing short stories as he was writing novels.

For instance, "Dutchman's Flat" (published in the Fall 1948 issue of Giant Western) is about five six men chasing another into the desert. The man they are chasing, Chet Lock, apparently back-shot someone. There's no formal law in the area, so the men include a rope on which to hang Lock when they catch him.

But Lock isn't easy to catch. At one point, he keeps them pinned down with rifle fire. But he doesn't kill any of them, even though he could easily have done so.

Later, he leaves marks on cliff walls to point them towards water or towards a shady area to rest their horses. He even leaves wood for a fire, salt and coffee in one location.

Is he taunting them? Or have they misjudged him? He's not acting like a killer who would shoot a man in the back. 

The story is set up to allow the men to learn about Lock's character, even though they don't actually meet him until the end of the tale. The idea L'Amour brings across is that you can get a feel for who a man is by what he does. Would a man who acts like Lock does, even when being pursued by men who want to kill him, be someone who would commit cold-blooded murder?

"Dutchman's Flat" benefits from L'Amour's vivid description of the desert, presenting the landscape as oppressive and deadly, and his straightforward account of the pursuit. It's a Western adventure story, but its also a solid character study. It's worth reading.

You can find it online HERE.

A Fake Baron and a Jealous Cowhand

 

1940's The Showdown is yet another entertaining entry in the long-running series of B-movies, with William Boyd's boisterous and authoritative portrayal of Hoppy giving the story a firm anchor to build upon.

Hoppy is asked by a ranch owner to pay a visit. The owner is hard up for cash and wants Hoppy to take the horses to San Francisco for auction. But then a European baron shows up who might want to buy them himself.

Hoppy's not sure about the Baron. And he has reason to be suspicious. The "Baron" is indeed a fake. He simply wants to find out when the horses are being taken to Frisco, so he can have his band of outlaws intercept and steal them.

Hoppy seems to foil this plan and expose the Baron in a clever way starting by foiling an attempt to cheat at a poker game. But the Baron is persistent, convincing Hoppy's friend Lucky that Hoppy is making a play for Lucky's gal. Because of this, Lucky unwittingly gives away where the horses will be initially taken after leaving the ranch. This results in Hoppy being captured and tied up in a burning barn.

Hoppy will, of course, win through in the end. This movie ends with a nifty action scene, but the real pleasure of this one is watching Hoppy stay one step ahead of the Baron and carry out that clever reverse con to expose the Baron's scheme.

Here's the movie on Youtube, but a print with better sound quality is available on the free streaming service Tubi.

Gun Fury (1953)

 

Gun Fury, made in 1953, is a solid, entertaining Western. Expertly directed by Raoul Walsh, it tells the story of a man (Rock Hudson) pursing the outlaws who have taken his gal.

Ben Warren is taking Jennifer (Donna Reed) to his California ranch to marry her and pretty much ignore the rest of the world while he works his land. A veteran of the Civil War, he's tired of killing and just wants to be left alone with his soon-to-be wife.

But the Slayton Gang has other plans. Slayton (Philip Carey) is a very, very unreconstructed Southerner. He and his partner Jess Burgess have a sort-of Jesse and Frank James vibe going on--bitter from the war and striking back at society by becoming outlaws.

Well, this goes for Slayton. Jess (Leo Gordon) is less brutal in his outlook. When a stagecoach robbery results in Jennifer being taken hostage, Jess insists the girl not be harmed and be left behind. This results in JESS being left behind, tied to a post for the vultures to eventually feast upon.

Warren saves Jess and the two team up. Soon, they are joined by an Indian named Johash, who wants vengeance for a sister than Slayton killed. 

So a good guy, a bad guy and a vengeful Indian take up the pursuit of Slayton and his gang as the outlaws ride for the Mexican border. Eventually, they are joined by a Mexican woman whom Slayton spurned.

Raoul Walsh always makes a movie look great. Gun Fury was originally released in 3D, so there's a few camera shots you can tell were there just for the 3D effect, but its not enough to be a distraction. 

And the story is great. There's tension involving the pursuit, while some members of Slayton's gang begin to wonder why Slayton is so determined to slow them down by bringing the woman along. And we gradually realized the Slayton has taken up permanent residence in Crazy Town--convinced that he and Jennifer can use stolen gold to recreate a Antebellum South home in Mexico and live as if the South did indeed rise again. There are shootouts, hostage negotiations, betrayals and some nifty sniper work by Johash.

Slayton's gang includes characters played by Lee Marvin (not yet a star) and Neville Brand. Along with Leo Gordon, that makes this movie a haven for tough guy character actors. Another blogger I ran across while researching this film joked "Where was Jack Elam when they cast this film?" I would add Lee Van Cleef to that list. But, heck, adding Elam and Van Cleef to the movie might have lead to Tough Guy Overload. Marvin and Brand were hard-core combat vets in real life, while Gordon did time in San Quentin before  straightening out his life and turning to acting. Those three alone bring the Tough Guy Rating to about 97 out of 100. 

Here's a clip:

"Northwest Passage" doesn't involve the Northwest Passage!

 

Robert Rogers led an adventurous life. Born in Massachusetts in 1731, he joined a local militia at age 15 to fight in King George's War. He continued to serve and--when the French and Indian War began--recruited his own band of rangers.

He fought for the British during the Revolution, moved to England when that didn't work out, and died a pauper in 1795.

There's no question that Rogers' was brave and had leadership ability. There is some question among historians over whether his own accounts of his wartime activities are always accurate. He could also be pretty ruthless, with accusations that his men often killed civilians during guerilla raids. (Though this was also an all-too-common practice with the French and their Native American allies.)  After the war, while as royal governor of a territory that would eventually become Michigan, he did send out expeditions to find the fabled Northwest Passage.

Let's now jump ahead to 1936. An historical novel titled Northwest Passage, by Kenneth Roberts is serialized in the Saturday Evening Post in that year and into 1937. It's published as a book in '37 and is a bestseller. The book follows Rogers and his rangers during an expedition to attack a hostile Indian tribe in 1759 and a later search for a Northwest Passage--a water route that would take merchants across North America. 

Roberts' historical fiction, including this book, was meant to reexamine historical figures who had become unpopular in America. So when MGM began to make a movie based on the novel in 1940, they had a protagonist who was being remodeled into a hero.

Despite the movie retaining Northwest Passage as its title, it adapts just the first part of the book--the raid on the Abenaki Indians living on a French outpost called St. Francis. Filtered through Roger's unreliable reports and then through a work of fiction, the movie is not historically accurate.

But looked at as a work of fiction, it's often magnificent. Directed by King Vidor on location in Idaho. Vidor makes beautiful use of the scenery, all the while emphasizing just how difficult the journey to AND from St. Francis was. Spencer Tracy brings charm and authority to his role as Rogers.

The journey there involves avoiding the French, portaging boats from one waterway to another, crossing rapids and eventually marching through hellishly difficult terrain. They are forced to leave the sick and injured behind and reach St. Francis with a significantly reduced force.

The attack on the fort--one of the best battle scenes ever put on film--is succesful. But Rogers was hoping to find food at the fort. There's none to be had and the long trip back to British territory is one of constant hunger, danger from the French and some of the men beginning to teeter on the brink of madness. 

It really is a great film--removed far enough from real history to be enjoyable as fiction. The acting is great (with Robert Young and Walter Brennan both giving strong supporting performances) and the entire movie looks fantastic in terms of scenery and cinematography.

A Ghostly? Killer and a Fun Saloon Brawl

 

Rimfire (1949) is a noir Western directed by B. Reeves Easton. Easton is not exactly a famous figure in movie history--he was best known as a second-unit director and action specialist. He does a fine job here as the primary director, though, and his action-specialist background shows through in an exceptionally well-choreographed saloon brawl.

The main plot involves an undercover agent named Tom Harvey (played by James Millican) searching for some stolen government gold. He takes a job as deputy in a small New Mexican town, as he suspects the gold is hidden somewhere nearby. 

But other stuff is going on in town. The owner of the local saloon is the secret leader of a band of stagecoach robbers. A gambler (Reed Hadley) is falsely accused of cheating at cards and hanged, though Harvey believed he was innocent. And then someone begins killing off those involved in the hanging--has the gambler come back from the dead? Harvey doesn't think so and also thinks the killings might relate to the stolen gold. But the only clue is that the killer is using rimfire cartridges (bullets in which the primer is along the edge of the cartridge rather than the center). Who else uses such a gun?

Aside from the pretty awesome saloon brawl, another stand-out scene is the gambler's trial, which hits just the right note of grimness and effectively reminds us that a man's life is at stake. The revelation of the killer's identity is honestly surprising and acting is quite good.

I found a quote HERE from an interview with Margie Dean, who plays a saloon girl in the movie:  

“James Millican was polite and pleasant, but again I knew Reed Hadley better. It was a good little picture. Some of them I made were corny, but this was pretty well done. These films were done fast with last minute script changes. If you hit your spot and said the dialogue, it was printed. To be pretty good in something like that is more of an achievement than being good in a big picture where you do it over and over.”

I've always championed B-movies on my blog and Margie's quote about being good in a B-movie just makes me appreciate them more.

Here's the movie in its entirety. You know, I have a little over 7,000 subscribers to my YouTube channel (hardly an earth-shaking number, I realize) but I've never been sure why most of them have subscribed--whether its for the clips from movies I've reviewed or the ERB podcast or what have you. The increasing prevalence of old movies in their entirety on YouTube means I'm posting fewer clips--since I can more often post the entire film. I hope my subscribers don't show up as an angry mob outside my home because of this. Torch and pitchfork damage isn't covered by my insurance.

Wild Mustang (1935)

 

Ajax Pictures was one of the Poverty Row studios able to churn out inexpensive B-movies to inhabit the bottom half of double features, In 1935, they produced Wild Mustang, starring Harry Carey as former sheriff Joe "Wild Mustang" Norton. 

As is the case with many of the B-movies, it's a fun little movie. The story certainly unfolds quickly. It pretty much has to--the movie has a mere 58-minute run time.

Veteran Western villain Bob Kortman is Utah Evans, an escaped convict that "Wild Mustang" Norton sent up the river years ago. He puts together a gang, robs a bank and commits a couple of murders. The murder victims include the current sheriff.

So Norton comes out of retirement and soon has his own son Reno going undercover, joining the gang as an outlaw. Reno's cover is quickly blown, but he's learned of the gang's plan to raid the town.

In the meantime, old "Wild Mustang" gets himself captured. With the help of his horse, he escapes, but then soon gets captured again. This leads to him being tied up and gagged in a cabin that his own son is about to blow up with dynamite. Harry Carey was a good actor with a real screen presence, but his character this time can be said to have an over-confidence problem. 

In the end, of course, the good guys win. Utah is caught by the hero (who does manage to escape again) and, though we don't see the rest of the gang caught, its implied that are. The story does indeed move quickly and I think it's worth an hour of your time if you are in the mood for an old-fashioned oater. 

A Hard-Boiled Western

 

Harry Whittington was a prolific writer. He penned a Man from U.N.C.L.E. that became a best-seller. He wrote a number of hard-boiled, often brutal crime novels. So it's not surprising that his Westerns were also brutal and hard-boiled. Desert Stake-Out (1961) is perhaps the best example of this.

 

Blade Merrick, a sometimes scout for the army, is tasked with bringing a wagon-full of medicine to a epidemic-ridden mission. This means a trip across a bleak desert controlled by the Apaches. Merrick has past experience with the Apaches--the exact nature of which isn't revealed to us until later in the novel--that makes sending him alone a worthwhile idea.

 

 

He doesn't stay alone, though. Along the way, he picks up a badly-wounded man and his wife, along with three outlaws whom he immediately realizes he can not trust. Soon, the party is at a waterhole, threatened by Apache and unable to trust one another.

 

 

It's a great set-up, generating a lot of tension. Whittington's characterizations are strong as well. Each person in the story, even the mostly despicable bad guys, have real dimension to their personalities. Merrick's past, including his history with the Apaches, is effectively foreshadowed so that when that past plays a key role in the novel's resolution, events play out in an unexpected and satisfying manner.

 

 

Much of the novel is Merrick and the outlaws playing cat-and-mouse with one another, with the situation eventually exploding into violence. When the Apaches show up, the novel comes to a brutal and tension-filled climax. At least we think its the climax, because when that situation is resolved, events spill into a SECOND brutal and tension-filled climax.

 

 

This may be my favorite Whittington Western.

What Could Have Been

 The last episode of the TV Western The Rebel aired on June 12, 1960. Titled "The Earl of Durango," it presents us with a murder mystery and two wonderfully realized characters helping Johnny Yuma investigate that murder. It's obvious that this episode was meant to be a backdoor pilot for a new series. It's a tragedy that the pilot wasn't picked up. Provided the writing remained sharp, it would have made a great mystery show. The Wild West setting would have made it all the more interesting.

Johnny Yuma arrives in a Western town to take a job as bodyguard. But the guy he's supposed to guard is murdered before Johnny can begin that job. Johnny wants to find out who did it, but everyone in town is happy the guy is dead.

But Johnny soon has a couple of allies in his investigation. C. Spencer Scott is an Englishman who gave up writing philosophy texts to make lots of money writing dime novels. He's become known as the Earl of Durango. Now, with the help of an ex-Texas Ranger named Otis Rumph, he solves murders. 

Scott is played with a suave wittiness by John Sutton and Otis is played by the great character actor L.Q. Jones. The mystery is a good one, with both Scott and Johnny Yuma contributing ideas to solving the murder. The guest cast playing the citizens of the town include more always-entertaining actors such as George Tobias and Victor Buono.

I love some of the dialogue, especially Otis' brief summary of why he partnered up with the Earl:

"Well, Reb, I'll tell yer. I misspent my youth getting saddle sores on somebody else's cattle drive. I spent two years on $20 a month as a Texas Ranger. And two years shooting people I wasn't mad at during the war. Now you put it all together and I figure I don't have such a bad break with the Earl. Besides that, I admire him. Besdies that, he saved my hide once."

It really is too bad this didn't become a series. Otis and the Earl were a unique crime-solving duo. 

Here's the entire episode on YouTube:

The Education of Ben Cartwright

 

In the early 1990s, twenty years after the TV series Bonanza had ended, a writer named Stephen Calder (well, actually that's a pen name for Frank Roderus and Preston Lewis) wrote a half-dozen novels set in the Bonanza universe. I've recently acquired three of them at used book stores, including The Pioneer Spirit--the first in the series.

This book picks up in the 1840s, with young Ben Cartwright serving as an officer on a merchant sailing ship. The first few chapters effectively introduce us to Ben, showing that he's already developed the rigid moral code he would have in later years and that he's already tough-as-nails. In fact, over the course of those introductory chapter, he deals with a sailor who murdered a shipmate and attempts to murder Ben. The ensuing brawl does not go well for the killer.

We learn that Ben has quite a reputation, becoming known as "The Devil of Boston" because of his accomplisments. I actually found myself wishing this book had been more focused on his career as a sailor, since some of the adventures that are merely mentioned in passing would have been pretty awesome to read about in detail. For instance, when the crew of a ship on which Ben was serving were arrested on trumped-up charges in a Central American port, Ben broke them out of jail and--to make sure the ship could escape the harbor--blew up the powder magazine in the local fort. THAT would have made a fun chapter in the book.

But the story moves on. Ben falls in love with the daughter of his captain and opens a chandler's shop in Boston. The story drags a bit while we learn how deliriously happy he is, especially after his son Adam is born. But this serves a purpose in highlighting the tragedy of his wife's death when Adam is still a toddler. Ben becomes so detached from life emotionally that he allows his business to fail and eventually decides to move west with Adam to start fresh.

The TV series covered much of this ground in a flashback episode early in its run. The details are different enough to place the events of the novel in an alternate Bonanza universe, but the author catches the strength of Ben's basic character and I can easily imagine the story of the novel as a legitimate path that eventually brings Ben to be the loving patriarch of his family and a successful rancher. He's got stuff to learn about life--particularly in dealing with loss. But he'll get there.

While heading west, he meets a Swedish woman named Inger, saving her from being beaten by her brother. They get married, though Ben does so at first to protect her and because Adam likes her. But eventually, he falls for her. Their relationship strengthens Ben to the point where, when Inger dies after the birth of Hoss, he's able to accept that life moves on after we mourn our dead. After Elizabeth died, he had allowed his sorrow to turn into self-pity. Now he has learned better.

But before he can move on with his life, he needs to survive a blizzard while alone in the mountains and separated from his sons. 

Once again, the details of his marriage to Inger are different from the two flashback episodes involving her, but the personalities are spot-on. I especially like the way Adam is portrayed. As an adult, he was the most thoughtful and well-educated of the three Cartwright brothers. So, when we see him as an intelligent and perpetually curious kid, it fits perfectly.

As I said, there are a few points in which the prose drags a little. And, of course, I'm not worried about giving away spoilers because if you are reading a Bonanza novels, you know what happens to his wives. It's the beginning of the Cartwright Curse, which was the one aspect of the TV show that annoyed me. The tragedy of losing (eventually) three wives was appropriate to Ben's background. But over the course of the 14 seasons the show was on, Adam, Hoss and Little Joe each seemed to fall in love about 12, 864, 937 times apiece and the girl ALWAYS ends up dead. If you turn on a Bonanza show and they are doing a Western drama, watch it because it will be at least good and quite likely excellent. If they are doing one of their occasional comedy episodes, watch it because it will be gut-bustingly funny. If one of the Cartwrights falls in love, turn the channel and find an episode of Gunsmoke or Maverick to watch instead. The flashback episodes about Ben are an exception to this rule--those are good. But if Adam, Hoss or Little Joe falls for a gal, give up on it. It'll be filled with manipulative, treacly emotion and you know that the girl might just as well have a target pinned to her back. She's doomed.

But I digress. The Pioneer Spirit is an excellent Bonanza novel and gives us a strong and appropriate-to-the-character version of Ben's early life. It's worth reading. 

Cover Cavalcade

 

May is DRAMATIC WILD WEST ENTRANCES month!

This 1941 cover is uncredited.

Border Cafe (1937)

 

Last week, we looked at the short story "In the Mexican Quarter," by Tom Gill. Today, we'll look at the movie based on that story, 1937's Border Cafe.

The original story is indeed short and fairly straightforward. Billy Whitney is driven to drink and runs away to Texas because he feels he can't live up to his family's expectations. He redeems himself at the end by single-handedly pursuing rustlers.

Well, the movie is only 67 minutes long, but still needed to expand upon the original story. Billy's name is changed to Keith--I have no idea why--and we get a few scenes back East to see how badly he's messing up his life. When he gets to Texas, he takes up residence just across the border in a cafe, playing piano in exchange for a room and drinking money.

Movie Keith is initially a bit more of a rotter than story Billy. Both versions of the character wrote home to falsely claim becoming partners in a ranch, but Keith actually asks for money from his Dad to finance this. He then blows the money on drinks and gambling.

The two biggest changes are:

1. Introducing a love interest for Keith, the fiery tempered Domingo. She's played with charm by Armida. She's at first revolted by Keith, but then gradually warms to him after both go to work at the ranch. She's a great character. I'll admit I fast-forwarded through her brief musical numbers--but that's more a matter of personal taste rather than a commentary on her talents as a singer. Otherwise, Armida gives her character a strong personality and brings a lot of humor into her role.

2. In the story, the rustlers just show up at the end with no foreshadowing. The movie introduces them pretty much right away--converting them into Chicago gangsters who are organizing a combination rustling/protection racket. The big boss is played by the great character actor J. Carrol Naish, whose performance overcomes his cliche-storm dialogue to bring a real sense of menace to the role.

Keith, by the way, is played by John Beal. The rancher he eventually teams up with is named Tex Stevens and played by Harry Carey, who is in full surrogate-dad role. This is the sort of role Carey could pull off, making his efforts to encourage Keith to man up believable if still predictable.

When Keith's parents and his old girlfriend come to visit, the various plot elements come together. Keith's dad disapproves of Domingo, but Keith impresses us when he doesn't even briefly consider buckling under. This foreshadows that the time he's spent working on the ranch really has manned hin up.

And that's a good thing. When the gangsters, whose racket has been busted, kidnap Keith's dad and Domingo while they try to flee the state, Tex and Keith are going to have to work together to save them.

The movie also benefits from its humor. Keith and Domingo play nicely off each other to get some laughs. Keith's attempts to catch and saddle a horse on his first day at the ranch are hilarious, as is a later scene when Tex and Keith's dad (both a bit drunk) trade increasingly unlikely tales about how awesome their respective ancestors were.

One criticism I have of the movie is that the final shootout, though mostly fun, suffers from severe Red Shirt Syndrome. Several ranch hands are killed along with the gangsters, but their deaths are immediately forgotten, allowing for the heroes to immediately joke with each other after the shooting is over.  Oh, well. 

The extent to which Border Cafe expands on the original story makes each its own thing and it's not really fair to say one is better than the other. Both serve their own purposes and do so quite well. 

In the Mexican Quarter

 

"In the Mexican Quarter," by Tom Gill, was published in the June 1930 issue of Cosmopolitan. Normally, I don't jump from the pulp magazines to the more elite "slicks" for my 1930s fiction fix, but there was a time when the slicks occasionally published some worthwhile  fiction.

How did I end up searching out this particular story? I started watching a 1937 film called Border Cafe on the TCM app. The opening credits said it was based on this story, which I was able to locate online. Immediately, my innate genius grasped the possibilities. I could review the original prose story this week, then take a look at the movie next week. That is, if the story is worth reviewing.

Well, it is. It's narrated by an unnamed rancher who lives in Verde, TX, near the Mexican border. He meets a young man named Billy Whitney. Billy is from back East, the son of a senator and the scion of an influencial family that has churned out soldiers and statesmen for generations.

Well, Billy didn't want to be an important person. "I object to being forced into molds that don't fit," he explains. So he's come to Verde to essentially waste his life away.

But, though Billy may be a little resentful of his family, he still loves them. He writes back home, telling his parents that he's gone partners on a big ranch and that things are going well. He doesn't want them to worry. 

This comes back to bite him, though, when his parents write that they are coming for a visit. The narrator agrees to help Billy pretend that they are partners. But this plan goes partially awry when Billy's former girlfriend Claire arrives with Billy's parents. She's not fooled for a minute, though she goes along with it for the parents' sake. 

To a large extent, the story is predictable, up to the ending where Billy single-handedly chases after rustlers, proving his manhood and winning Claire's love. Pretty much as soon as Billy goes to work at the ranch as part of the con his running on his parents, we can predict that the hard work involved will be good for him and that redemption is right around the corner. 

But the prose reads very smoothly and the author presents the emotions involved effectively. Billy is shown to us in a way that causes us to empathize with him, even as we also realize he needs to buckle down and man up. Though his character arc is predictable, it is also engaging.

Next week, we'll see if the movie version manages to capture the same emotions. In the meantime, you can read the story online HERE. 

Apache Territory (1958)

 

Louis L'Amour's 1957 novel Last Stand at Papago Wells is a favorite of mine, since I'm a sucker for "last stand" stories. Wandering cowboy Logan Cates takes refuge at the titular water hole and soon finds himself in charge of several other groups of men and women trying to escape Apache warriors. The group finds themselves besieged.

Toss a shipment of gold into the midst of this and Logan finds that potential conflict among the whites can be as dangerous as the Apaches.

I didn't know until I recently ran across it on Crackle TV that this book had been made into a movie in 1958, with the title changed to Apache Territory. Rory Calhoun plays Logan Cates.

The movie is a reasonably faithful adaptation of the book, though the number of characters is reduced a little and some of their relationships are shifted about. But the main action beats are pretty much the same. The Apaches send fusilades of bullets and arrows into the defenders, but are never seen. Cates has to sneak out one night to hunt for food. Slowly, the defenders are picked off. There seems to be no escape.

It's a good Western that generates a tense atmosphere throughout. Calhoun is quite good as Cates and the supporting cast is fine. John Dehner (one of my favorite character actors) is especially good as a man you just KNOW will turn out to be rotten even before he does anything to show us he's rotten. When Dehner played bad guys, he had a subtle talent for making himself ooze just a touch of venom in everything he does or says.

As is usually the case, the movie isn't quite as good as the original book. But it's still good and worth watching. 

Vaudevillian Goes West, part 2

 

cover artist unidentified

Read/Watch 'em In Order #144

"With the Help of Henry" is W.C.Tuttle's second yarn about Henry Harrison Conroy, a vaudeville comedian who moves to Arizona after buying a ranch. It was published in the March 23, 1935 issue of Argosy. 

The story begins with Henry and the Judge--Henry's legal advisor--getting drunk. This is a usual activity for the two, but Henry has a reason to do so this time. It's election night and Henry is running for sheriff. And he's worried he might win.

In the first story, Henry had proved to have Sherlockian deductive skills and solved a murder. This, combined with his inherant likeability, has led a friend to nominate him for sheriff. Henry is starting to get on in years, doesn't consider himself brave and can barely ride a horse. He doesn't want to be sheriff.

Sadly for Henry, he wins. But then a murder takes place and a friend of Henry looks guilty. So, while still trying to figure out what to do about the election results, he finds himself investigating another crime.

As with the first story, W.C. Tuttle perfectly balances often laugh-out-loud humor with a solid mystery plot. Adding to the humor is Henry's possibly unwise decision to move the body off his friend's ranch to stave off hasty murder accusations. But while he's doing this, his friend is dutifully reporting to the current sheriff that he found the body on his ranch. 

When the body is found, Henry and the Judge move it a second time before the coroner can be brought to the scene. This odd game of "Who's got the body" continues until it leads in a bizarre way to Henry geting thrown from a buckboard and having most of his clothes torn off in a cactus brush.

But Henry, though often more drunk that sober, is able to follow up a clue (a torn and only partially legible letter found on the corpse) until he figures out who the real killer is.

By the way, the exact year this story is set in doesn't really matter, but I can't help but try to figure it out. In the previous tale, Sherlock Holmes is mentioned, so he's a household name. In this story, Henry mentions Houdini (who began performing in 1891) and a stage show called "The Squaw Man" starring William Faversham, which was performed in 1905 and 1906. So, despite the absense of early automobiles and telephones (which might make sense in the remote Arizona location), the story must be set early in the 20th Century, perhaps around 1910. 

But the year doesn't matter. "With the Help of Henry" is yet another excellent blend of comedy, western and mystery.

Click HERE to read the story online.

Vaudevillian Goes West, Part 1

 

cover art by Paul Stahr

Read/Watch 'em In Order #142

Each time I've written about one of Philip Ketchum's Bretwalda stories, I search to see if the issue of Argosy in which is was originally printed is available online, so I can link to it in the post. While doing so, I noticed one issue contained the first part of a serial about an aging former Vaudeville comedian who moves West and has a series of adventures there. That's something I just gotta read.

The character is named Henry Harrison Conroy and his adventures are chronicled by W.C. Tuttle, one of the most popular Western scribes of the pulp era. Henry appeared in nearly two dozen short stories, novellas and serials through the 1930s and 1940s. I'm supposed to know about the pulps, so I'm a little embarrassed that I didn't know about him. 

Anyway, I found the first story and like it so much that I'm going to cover them on the blog as well. I'll still finish up the last four Bretwalda stories as well as part of the In Order posts, but they will be interspersed with Henry's adventures.

"Henry Goes Arizona" (Argosy, February 23, 1935) is the premiere tale in the series. Henry is 55 years old and sports a huge, red nose. He's putting on weight, balding and coming to the end of his career as a vaudeville comedian. Things look bleak for him.

Until he gets a telegram informing him that he's inherited a cattle ranch in Arizona. Henry briefly assumes he's rich, but when arrives in Tonto City, he discovers the ranch is deeply in debt. He also learns his uncle (the ranch's previous owner) was murdered. And perhaps that's just as well, since Jim Conroy had been ruthlessly working to put the small ranchers in the area out of business.

Henry, though, is a different sort of Conroy. He wonders about the lack of financial records and where cash from recent cattle sales have gone. He hires the man who was initially suspected of killing his uncle because he's a good judge of character. He knows young Danny Regan is innocent and he doesn't trust the current ranch's foreman. 

He also befriends an elderly lawyer named "Judge" Cornelius Van Treece. The Judge drinks too much, but he's a sharp attorney and soon proves to be a solid ally of Henry's.

And Henry will need allies. There's an attempt on his life. Danny is framed for yet another murder. Inexplicably, the body of the murdered man is stolen. Other odd things happen in and around Tonto City.

The plot is a solid, well-contructed Western/Mystery hybrid. Henry is a witty and clever protagonist. Tuttle seeds the story with many truly funny moments and several great supporting characters. His prose is simply fun to read.

An example:

"Frijole Bill" Cullison had been the cook and housekeeper for the J Bar C many years. Frijole was sixty years of age and admitted forty. He was five feet three inches tall, would not weigh over a hundred pounds, made his own whiskey from prunes, and would fight a wild cat. He wore a pair of huge mustaches, which gave him the appearance, as Slim Pickins said, of a walrus disappointed in love.

In the end, Henry demonstates Sherlockian skills as he puts together the available clues, recovers stolen money, and proves who murdered whom. He's an unusual and appealing hero and--since his adventures are reprinted in afforable ebooks by Altus Press--I'll be able to enjoy them all.

You can read this story online HERE

Gold and a Machine Gun

 

It's 1913 and a mercenary named Tom Bryan (Rory Calhoun) is making good money working for Pancho Villa, using his Lewis machine gun as his weapon of choice while robbing banks. Working with Bryan is Juan Castro (Gilbert Roland), a tough and smart soldier who is also loyal to the revolution.

This is the situation we are introduced to as The Treasure of Pancho Villa (1955) opens. Directed by George Stevens, the movie makes great use of location photography and tells its story in a very effective manner. The opening scenes immediately tell us that the revolution in Mexico is a violent and dirty business. Men like Castro believe they are fighting for freedom from tyranny, but have no illusions about the methods that must be used to win that freedom. A lot of people are going to die along the way. A lot of those in the revolution eventually going to toss away their ideals for their own self-interest before the fighting is done.

Bryan and Castro have a big job coming up. They, along with a score of men under their command, are going to rob a train and steal of fortune in government gold. Castro wants the gold for Pancho Villa. Bryan starts thinking he might want the gold for himself. The outfit's mule drive, Pablo Morales, definitely wants the gold for themselves.

                          

Also along for the ride is a former American school teacher named Ruth Harris (Shelly Winters), who joined the revolution after her father's murder. She's also tough and willing to fight, soon earning Castro's respect. Bryan doesn't want her along at all, but soon starts to feel attracted to her.

That part of the movie is a bit contrived--Ruth is disgusted by Bryan's mercenary attitude towards life and he thinks her idealistic outlook is absurd, but they still (because movie conventions require it) fall for each other.

But Shelly Winters is quite good as Ruth and the rest of the movie is a lot of fun. Several action scenes, including the train robbery and a rear-guard action against pursuing soldiers, effectively puncuate the story. The tension involved in who is going to double-cross whom builds nicely. And the climax, with Bryan, Castro and the machine gun doing a last stand behind a wall of  money bags filled with gold, is fantastic. 

It should also be noted that this is one of the few movies ever made that takes into account just how heavy gold is. It takes a train of mules to haul it over the countryside and anyone lifting one of the bags is obviously making an effort to do so. It's a nice touch that adds a bit of verisimilitude to an already good movie. 

A Shakespearean Western

I recently grabbed the 1959 Western novel Catch and Saddle, by L.P. Holmes off the public library shelf pretty much at random. I knew Holmes' name as a Western writer, but really had no idea about him otherwise. I'd never read any of his stuff and I didn't immediately recall reading anything about him either.

But, gee whiz, was I impressed. The plot of the novel hits a common Western trope--small rancher clashing with the big land baron. Clay Hanford buys a track of land in Fandango Basin from someone who had been driven out by big-time rancher King Morgan. Hanford, who legally owns that small patch of land now, is determined to make a go as a ranch owner himself, regardless of any opposition he encounters.

We've seen variations of this before. But Holmes contructs a strong story out of the cliches, moves the story along rapidly and--most importantly--succeeds in giving both major and minor characters three-dimensional personalities. 

He also throws sincere moral dilemmas at us. For instance, after the buildings on Clay's land are burned by Morgan's men, he decides to strike back at a ranch owned by one of Morgan's toadies. He burns the buildings there. But he doesn't feel right about it. He figures its an "eye for an eye" situation and that--outnumbered as he is--he has to fight this way. But it rubs him the wrong way. 

"I never did a think like this before," he said soberly. "And I'm not proud of it... But some things seem to be thrust upon a man; he uses the weapons at hand or he loses the fight."

That scene also gives us an example of just how effectively Holmes sketches out even minor characters. When Hanford and an ally arrive at the ranch they intend to burn, there is only one guy (Pikey Stent) there. They let him take his few personal belongings and leave before setting fire to the buildings. Here's what we soon learn about him:

Uncertainty still gripped Pikey. Up to a very few minutes ago his world had been fairly stable. To be sure, it was a slovenly, uninspiring, meagrely frugal one. Yet it was a world which Pikey thoroughly understood and was satisfied with. Now it had come apart right before his eyes. Pikey hadn't been half a mile from this spot in the past six months. He was like a bird finding the door of its cage suddenly opened, and was fearful over leaving. But leave he did, finally, as flame broke through the roof of the feed shed and began to tower. There was a trail leading east and south. Pikey Stent took it.

Even a minor, almost unnoticed character like Pikey is given a personality. To use a Star Trek metaphor, there are no Red Shirts here. Good guy, bad guy or somewhere inbetween--everyone matters.

What makes this novel seem just a little bit Shakespearean to me is how Holmes uses the story as a sort of morality play. (In itself, not unusual in many Westerns.) Various characters are faced with pretty much the same choice throughout the novel. Either cave in to King Morgan and become his toadie or stand up to him. Though another rancher in the area tries to remain neutral, in the end, everyone has to make a clear moral choice.

And King himself is an interesting villain. We see him at a point where he's now driven by an uninhibited lust for power, but it's made clear there was a time when he was more fair-minded. He's chosen to set moral standards aside and has reached a point where he might not even understand the concept of morality anymore. The tragedy inherit in this is the influence he is having on his three adult children, whose individual character arcs are keyed on whether they can break free of him or knuckle under themselves.

If we look at the novel as a morality play, one thing we see Holmes pulling off is how he gives his characters dialogue in which they essentially pontificate on the morality of their situation. But this never seems contrived or stilted. Though we probably get a few more off-the-cuff speeches than we would be likely to hear in real life, Holmes' dialogue flows naturally, neatly fitting into the story and helping to build upon the action rather than slowing it down. Here's an example, from when the man who had been King Morgan's foreman for years explains why he has quit:

"King, a man has only so many really good years of life--the years when he gives of his strength and will to climb the mountain, the years before he passes the crest and begins coasting down the other side. Those are the rich years, when a man builds either for himself, or for someone else.

"Well, I built for someone else. I built for you. I gave those good years to [your ranch]. I ran your ranch for you, King--and I made it a good ranch. I was faithful to your every interest. I watched your kids grow up, and having none of my own, knew a fondness for them. Even when you began the big change, from a stern, but just man, into a power crazy unjust one, I still stayed faithful, hoping you'd come back to your senses. Instead, you got worse..."

I don't know if Holmes was deliberately trying to emulate the soliloquies of Shakespeare's characters, but I was reminded of the Bard several times when reading this novel. I supposed it really just shows the universality of good storytelling. No matter what the setting or the genre, a well-written story can really dig itself into a reader and leave its mark.

Catch and Saddle appears to be out of print at the time of this writing, but there is a copy to read on the Internet Archives. You can find it HERE.