50's WESTERNS: MY TOP GUNS

                People hooked on vintage westerns tend to have their own favorite cowboy stars. For me, William S. Hart has the silent era sewn up.  A stark, iconic presence casting an imposing shadow over all the westerns to come.  For the 30’s I’d pick Bob Steele (uniquely intense, whether projecting vulnerability or scrappiness).  My 40’s choice would be Roy Rogers, solid in the early part of the decade and  unbeatable once Dale Evans joined the party in ’44.  The 50’s offer an intriguing range of possibilities.

Joel McCrea always registered as righteous, without ever coming across as self righteous - unlike Gregory Peck or Charlton Heston, who sometimes seemed bent on engraving their own images onto Mount Rushmore with each word.  McCrea had occasionally donned western garb in the 30’s. But it was the big post-war hit “The Virginian” that really established his brand as a sagebrush hero.

Raoul Walsh’s “Colorado Territory” (‘49) was a western remake of the same director’s “High Sierra” – and great in its own right.  McCrea  had already displayed expertise in all sorts of films. In 30’s romances, he held his own with the likes of Barbara Stanwyck, Irene Dunne, Loretta Young, Merle Oberon and Constance Bennett.  And he made an admirable Hitchcock hero in the exciting “Foreign Correspondent” (’40). Plus was there ever a more appealingly perplexed straight man at the center of Preston Sturges’ dizzy universe?   McCrea’s  work in both “Sullivan’s Travels” and “The Palm Beach Story” deserved Oscar attention.  But after the 40’s, the actor settled almost exclusively into westerns, a genre in which he was supremely comfortable.  He loved horses – and raised them on his own 3000 acre spread in California.  In “Stars in My Crown” (’50) McCrea played a western preacher and it’s a film that still generates critical  enthusiasm  60 some years later . But I especially like “Cattle Drive” (’51) where he’s beautifully cast as the patient,  resourceful  trail boss/mentor to a young city boy stranded out west.  It’s a part only McCrea could’ve delivered with such quietly expressive eloquence. 

                                   

“Gunsight Ridge”(’57) was a genuine out of left field gem, with McCrea in measured but relentless pursuit of charismatic outlaw Mark Stevens. The ambience was convincing, the script terse and compelling.  It wasn’t the last great western McCrea made (that would be ‘62’s “Ride the High Country”), but it may be the most unsung. Check it out.

George Montgomery radiated a kind of frontier authenticity. Not that surprising since he was born in Montana and raised on a ranch.  He was always active, agile and a natural around horses. While still in his teens, Montgomery headed to Hollywood to try his luck. And within weeks was working as a stuntman. The guy was tall, handsome and gifted with a great speaking voice, so  it wasn’t long before producers promoted him to speaking parts. 20^th Century Fox  signed him in 1939 and within two or three  years  Montgomery was an established  leading man opposite some of the era’s top movie beauties – Betty Grable, Gene Tierney, Maureen O’Hara, Ginger Rogers.  For a time he and Hedy Lamarr were a much photographed twosome on the Hollywood social circuit - arguably the era’s most sublimely photogenic couple. In 1943 he married singer Dinah Shore, a union that endured for twenty years.   Montgomery  joined the Air Force that same year. Neither he nor Fox were enthusiastic about his first few postwar assignments.  He yearned for more independence and - parting company with the studio - began freelancing, at the same time getting involved in the production end of things.  Westerns were cost-effective and – pretty much on all levels – a comfortable fit for him. Although he’d made a few medium budget oaters in the 40’s, it wasn’t till the end of the decade that westerns  became pretty much his exclusive focus. He made twenty-three of them in the 50’s, establishing himself as one of the genre’s stalwart marquee attractions.

                                   

But his gifts extended well beyond those he displayed onscreen. A genuine lover of all things western, he eventually established a reputation (and a successful second career) as a painter and sculptor, mainly of western subjects. His work found its way into museums and private collections all over the world. Like Randolph Scott, Montgomery retained the leanness of his youth throughout his career. He also projected  a refreshing  honesty, a straight from the shoulder quality, that gave even his less substantial vehicles a kind of dramatic backbone. The early 50’s were busy and successful years for him.  In ’53, Montgomery took full advantage of the current 3D craze; his stereoscopic “Fort Ti” generated phenomenal profits.  Montgomery westerns I especially like  from the period  include “Indian Uprising” and “The Battle of Rogue River”.  But his best,  both complex and elemental, is probably 1957’s “Black Patch”’ a stark and moody western noir. 

 

Over the years, George Montgomery developed and perfected a singular screen presence; using his straight-talking style, a highly personal brand of dramatic short-hand, to build characters - sometimes romantic, sometimes remote - but always compellingly watchable. And it was inevitably in westerns that his finely honed talents achieved their fullest resonance.

Dale Robertson never lost his distinctive Oklahoma twang. But that was just one of the things that made him special. Movie cowboys often had sidekicks, on hand to supply a level of geniality while the hero functioned as straight arrow, spearheading the plot, handling the lion’s share of the action, settling whatever scores had to be settled. Robertson projected a geniality of his own, with a good-natured twinkle in his eye, even in his voice. Here was a man never reliant on sidekicks to inject fun into the proceedings. He projected plenty of that all on his own.  The thing was that he also possessed exceptional  leading  man good looks plus complete outdoor credibility –great with guns, horses and full-on action. And though naturally good-natured, Robertson was quite capable – at any given moment - of  leveling a gaze steely enough to unsettle the meanest of bad guys. In other words, Dale Robertson was the complete package. Studio publicity would have it that he was discovered when, as a WW2 serviceman, he had a photo of himself taken in LA for his mother. The photographer included the impressive portrait in his shop window display, where it was seen by film agents immediately eager to represent the budding Adonis. After the war, now a highly decorated veteran of 21, he took the Hollywood plunge. By the late 40’s, he’d already had small roles in several films. He was Jesse James in Randolph Scott’s “Fighting Man of the Plains”; it was just a supporting part, but he was noticed. Fox signed him and proceeded to develop him as a rising star. He played in lots of non-westerns including “O. Henry’s Full House”( nicely paired with Richard Widmark), the socially progressive swashbuckler “Lydia Bailey” and – on loan out to Howard Hughes and RKO – an entertaining Arabian Nights adventure, “Son of Sinbad”. He was also leading man in “The Farmer Takes a Wife” the best musical Betty Grable ever made (yes, he sang, too). Filmed outdoors, it glowed with the airy freshness of wide open spaces. A welcome antidote to those garish assembly line vehicles from Grable’s 40’s heyday, so many of them little more than parades of tired Tony Pastor era vaudeville routines.  Songs in “The Farmer Takes a Wife” were beautifully and imaginatively integrated into the action. Sadly, the public didn’t embrace this one- their loss. Dale Robertson worked – and worked well – in a variety of genres. But westerns were an especially good fit for him. He was just one of an especially large leading man contingent (Joseph Cotten, Cornel Wilde, Jeff Chandler) in Robert Wise’s excellent (and splendidly photographed) “Two Flags West”. But was more prominently spotlighted in “The Silver Whip” (an adroitly  fashioned vehicle for Fox’s then up and coming male heartthrobs Robertson, Rory Calhoun and Robert Wagner.

 

“City of Bad Men” with Jeanne Crain was another standout – a smart script, expertly executed.  As the old studio system floundered, Robertson became a freelancer – but westerns remained his preferred genre.  “Dakota Incident” is hands down my favorite Republic film of the 50’s. Notable for , among other things, superlative, award-worthy work from Linda Darnell and Ward Bond. Cast and crew stubbornly refused to just phone it in. Director Lewis R. Foster took the old disparate group of strangers on a stagecoach journey and made it fresh and vivid again. And the whole enterprise was anchored by Robertson’s bedrock-solid work at its center. 

 

TV extended his career nicely, especially with the hit series “Tales of Wells Fargo”(1957-62. Decades later, he was also one of the stars of “Dynasty”’s  debut season. Blessed with all the qualities required for western stardom, Robertson had a little something extra too.  A buoyant courtliness, amiable, engaging  and quite unique among his peers. According to the fond memories of colleagues and friends, it was  something he projected  off-screen too - for all his life.

Rory Calhoun always seemed like the coolest guy in town.  Radiating a confidence balanced neatly on the appealing edge of cockiness.  You always got the feeling he was trailing an interesting past behind him.  The man was also strikingly photogenic. He had a couple of brief bits at Fox in ’45 - playing a toreador in Laurel  & Hardy’s “The Bullfighters” and a boxer in “Nob Hill”, a kind of cut-and-paste Alice Faye musical without Alice Faye. But he stood out - and it was enough to start the fan mail rolling in.  “The Red House”(1947) was an arty, portentous jumble, with the spotlight more or less  trained on Edward G. Robinson and a backwoods Romeo and Juliet played with Actors Studio fervor by Lon McCallister and Allene Roberts. And most of it’s heavy going.  But Rory Calhoun and Julie London play a secondary pair of youngsters and they’re terrific, stealing the picture by dint of sheer animal magnetism, both performances  bristling  with a kind of reckless realism.  After that it was mainly leads for Calhoun. And in ’49 “Massacre River”, a terrific Sepia-tone  sagebrush saga  in which he, Guy Madison and Johnny Sands made as camera-ready a trio as ever top-lined a western.  The film clearly demonstrated the man’s affinity for the genre that was to keep him busy for years to come.  His 50’s career is studded with excellent movies. Jacques Tourneur’s splendid “Way of a Gaucho”(’52) , a kind of South American western, was set – and largely filmed – in Argentina. Its virtues included a poetic, affecting atmosphere and strong work from Calhoun, Gene Tierney and Richard Boone. “Powder River” was one of ‘53’s most entertaining westerns and matched Calhoun effectively against psychotic (but not unsympathetic) villain, Cameron Mitchell. With marquee powerhouses like Marilyn Monroe and Robert Mitchum  plus wonderful child actor Tommy Rettig on hand, Calhoun was relegated to caddish background in Otto Preminger’s box-office smash  “River of No Return”(’54). But he made his moments count.  He was definitely  front and center, though, in “Dawn at Socorro” and “Red Sundown”. 

 

 Universal was nothing if not prolific when it came to 50’s westerns; but these two definitely ranked among the studio’s best. In 1958 Calhoun successfully made the transition to TV with a popular western series called “The Texan” .  In the mid-60’s independent producer A.C. Lyles mounted a string of mini- budget westerns destined for double bills and drive-ins. He populated them with fading names from the past. Some observers dismissed the old-fashioned films as work therapy for aging performers. But where else in the Beatles era were you likely to see Dana Andrews, Terry Moore, Pat O’Brien, Lon Chaney Jr., Bruce Cabot, Lyle Bettger, Richard Arlen, Coleen Gray, Sonny Tufts, Don “Red” Barry and Bob Steele all in one picture? (That would be “Town Tamer” (1965).  Rory Calhoun starred in Lyles’ “Apache Uprising” (also ’65) and darned if it wasn’t the best of the bunch.  Much of that down to Calhoun,  just as good (and just as cool) as ever.  Maybe Rory Calhoun never found his “Shane”   But it wasn’t because he didn’t deserve it.  His track record remains a splendid one. And going to westerns in the 50’s wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun without him. 

Randolph Scott 

At his onscreen best –which he frequently was – Randolph Scott felt much but said little.  At the peak of his western stardom, he seemed to be some sort of distillation of the west itself.  His face a craggy, eloquent  road-map of experience and hard-won wisdom. Tall, slim, impossibly lithe, effortlessly athletic, he moved with melancholy, ageless grace across the western landscapes of his films. In essence, Scott was the spiritual and physical successor to William S. Hart. He came from an upper-crust Virginia family and perhaps that secure social background helped develop the aura of composure he radiated.  Few western stars – and it’s as such that Scott is generally celebrated – have had such a wide ranging career.  He’d achieved stardom by 1932, then built up an incredibly varied filmography . Over the years he played leading man to – among others - Carole Lombard, Margaret Sullavan, Irene Dunne, Mae West, Joan Bennett and Gene Tierney. He wooed the beguiling Nancy Carroll in one of the great pre-codes “Hot Saturday” ( that’s also the film where Scott met lifelong friend Cary Grant). He co-starred in not one but two of the Astaire-Rogers musicals, also two of Shirley Temple’s.  He led the cast of “She”, one of the 30’s most fondly remembered adventure fantasies. And was a serious contender for the role of Ashley Wilkes in “Gone With the Wind”. He sparkled alongside Irene Dunne and Cary Grant in one of the nimblest classic comedies, “My Favorite Wife”. Several of his early 40’s films were  flag-waving war pictures. But westerns were a constant with him. In the early days of is career, Paramount built a whole series of Zane Grey inspired B’s around him.  Bigger budget western showcases followed regularly ,“Last of the Mohicans” “Jesse James”, “Frontier Marshal” (as Wyatt Earp), “When the Daltons Rode”, “Western Union” – all high quality items.  After the war, Scott turned pretty much exclusively to westerns. He enjoyed making them and was undeniably excellent in them. A great businessman, he soon becoming active in the packaging and production of his own films. Aside from its great title, “Gunfighters”(1947) opened with a then revolutionary pre-credits sequence. Colorful and action-packed, the whole picture fairly popped off the screen. The late 40’s also saw terrific Scott movies like  “Albuquerque” and “Return of the Badmen”. Many of the Scotts used Cinecolor, a lower cost alternative to Technicolor. Used right – as it invariably was in Scott westerns - the process, rich in greens and browns, proved a beautiful match for western vistas. Randolph Scott's cowboy pictures became known for their consistent high quality.  Fans could rely on solid entertainment and often, as in the superb “Hangman’s Knot”, considerably more. As a top Saturday matinee attraction of the era, Scott inevitably made a 3D film (“The Stranger Wore a Gun”). And – in typical Scott style – it ranked as one of the best. Exhibitors loved him. In the early 50’s he was regularly among the top 10 box office stars. By the mid-fifties he’d enjoyed almost two and a half decades of sustained success. But artistically, the best was yet to come. He’d established a solid, working relationship with producer Harry Joe Brown starting with “Western Union”, way back in ’41.  They collaborated many times in the years that followed. But that relationship entered a new and remarkable phase when they joined forces with director Budd Boetticher and writer Burt Kennedy. The styles and temperaments of all four men just seemed to mesh magically. Together they produced a series of memorable westerns eventually known as the Ranown (Randolph and Brown) Cycle. First out of the gate was “Seven Men from Now”, a startling upgrade to the already high standards Scott’s films had established. It, “The Tall T” “Ride Lonesome” and “Comanche Station” are all considered classics. And “Decision at Sundown” and “Buchanan Rides Alone” are only a whisper behind. Like Scott himself, the films were lean yet magisterial.  Bristling with frankness, grit, psychological credibility and complexity.  The 50’s had seen the rise of the psychological western. And the best of the Scotts expanded and transcended the limits of the genre.  Just great pure cinema.  Packing an emotional wallop that matched the scope of the surroundings. No other movie cowboy rode out on such a high note. The last two Boettichers, “Ride Lonesome”(’59) and “Comanche Station” (’60) were perhaps the greatest of the lot.
                      
 In 1961 Scott was off the screen for the first time in over thirty years. But he came back for a last hurrah in ’62, teaming with Joel McCrea in “Ride the High Country”; the two played aging cowboys trying to maintain their relevance in a changing world. And working with another exciting director on the way up, Sam Peckinpah, both stars delivered performances that can only be described as perfectly polished diamonds. Lending autumnal poignancy and power to a film remarkable on all levels for its matter of fact magnificence. At which stratospheric height, Scott gracefully bowed out and quietly left the movies, subsequently enjoying 25 years of well-earned, comfortable and very private retirement. With each passing year, Scott becomes a firmer critical favorite, his best films – of which there are many – regularly rated among the finest ever made. He stands as one of the western’s iconic symbols. And like the genre itself, Randolph Scott wears very, very well.