Lonesome Trail, The (1955)

March 14, 2007

by Nathan Shumate

Directed by Richard Bartlett
Written by Richard Bartlett and Ian McDonald, based on the story “Silent Reckoning” by Gordon Shirreffs
Starring
- Wayne Morris
- John Agar
- Margia Dean
- Edgar Buchanan
- Adele Jergens
Produced by Earle Lyon

The great thing about some genres is that they present a full selection of ready-made elements for story construction. By the fifties, the great heyday of the all-American western, the tropes were well established and understood: The setting (in terms of both historical milieu and the specifics of the backdrops), the character types, and even the patterns of conflict. The boundaries of the genre were wide enough that not every tales was a retelling of the same story, but narrow enough that a filmmaker could simply drop a quarter into the machine and watch the pinball bounce off enough requisite elements to create a perfectly serviceable B-grade western. If this is a paean to mediocrity, so be it; as I’ve found in the movies I’ve reviewed around this place, even mediocre adequacy is not something that can be taken for granted.

Among the elements available to us is B-movie workhorse John Agar, a leading man who managed to display simultaneous weariness and fortitude like few of his contemporaries. Agar here is Johnny Rush, a man just back to the town of Tyrone after a stint for the Army against the Apaches. Unfortunately, things have gone downhill in his absence. Rush’s homestead, along with several others, had been shown by survey prior to his departure to be within the holdings of Mr. Brecker, the area’s largest landowner. Brecker had promised to have the survey corrected, and that satisfied Rush. But in Rush’s absence, Brecker Senior had died, leaving his conniving son Hal (producer Earle Lyon) in charge of the family holdings. Hal has no intention of honoring his father’s word about corrected surveys; not only does he declare the disputed land his, but pretty much takes possession of the entire town of Tyrone, right down to owning all of the deputies. So when Rush rides back to his cabin, still in his Cavalry trousers, he finds his property sign lying face down, barbed wire with a surveyor’s tag strung across his spread, and his cabin a smoldering ruin, the fire having apparently been set when word of his soon return reached town.

Hey! This barbed wire buggers up my feng shui!”

Rush stops in on his nearest neighbors, who’s land was also in dispute, to find out most of what I already told you. Neighbor #1 is Old Charley (Douglas Fowley), a fuzzy-faced mountain man who walks like he has a combination of a slipped disc and elephantitis. Charley’s irascible, as his type inevitably is, but he knows he has no chance against the likes of Brecker, and has made plans to move into a dugout up on the border of the Indian reservation. Neighbor #2 is Dan Wells (Edgar Buchanan), a wheelchair-bound gentleman with a sour wife (Betty Blythe) and a pretty daughter Patricia (Margia Dean). It seems that Wells will be keeping his land, though he’s not especially proud of it; the arrangement only came about because Patricia volunteered to marry Brecker for her family’s sake. (Even though it’s pretty apparent, despite through her proper reserve, that she and Rush have eyes for each other.)

“First rule of Hollywood Indian: Speak like Incredible Hulk.”

So you’ve got the setup: unscrupulous land baron vs. good-hearted and patriotic homesteader, with a woman’s honor hanging in the balance. And all that we need to set this off is… Yep, you know it: a run-in at the saloon. Rush heads into town to show his mettle to Brecker, even though the whole area’s scared to stand up to him. As Brecker’s pet deputy Baker (director Richard Bartlett) says, “You’re not from around here no more, Rush.” After Rush gets into it with Brecker, there’s a firefight outside the saloon (minor fleshwounds galore!) and Rush rides off, only to be ambushed and shot down by Baker.

And that would be the end of it, except for the kindly old Indian Gonaja (co-writer Ian MacDonald — despite several Native American roles in his career, the single worst Hollywood Indian I’ve ever encountered), who finds the fallen Rush. Even though Rush has just come back from helping the government herd his fellow Apaches, Gonaja recognizes the brooch in Rush’s possession as an Indian one, which Rush’s mother had once owned, and the only thing he rescued from the burned cabin. That makes him kin enough for Gonaja, so he trundles Rush off to Old Charley’s place to recuperate from the wound in his shoulder.

“Gosh, Charley, your hands… so surprisingly gentle…”

That’s his right shoulder, by the way. His shooting shoulder. Even after the indeterminate length of time that it takes him to heal (apparently we couldn’t afford fake whiskers for John Agar’s chin to indicate the time frame), his arm remains too stiff to draw and fire a gun, despite his former skill. At Charley’s urging, Rush starts practicing with Charley’s hunting bow to strengthen his arm, and comes to realize that a strong bow can be just as formidable a weapon as a six-shooter…

I don’t think I need to spell out to you the rest of it; it pretty much proceeds exactly as you would expect, right down to the gun vs. bow showdown. It is, after all, a standard western B-movie, and had neither the resources for nor the intention of challenging audience expectations. Even for its 73-minute running time, the pace seems lackadaisical, as if no one wanted to cut their feature too short by tightening things up. This despite the fact that so many of the plot elements which are sketched in (or even merely indicated) could have easily been fleshed out. Rush’s own half-Indian heritage, for instance; it appears that his mother was a full-blood Apache, but there’s no indication of this until Brecker raises Rush’s ire by calling him “half-breed.” Even then, the ambivalence of a part-Apache working for the Cavalry and then being rescued by an old Apache is dealt with as softly as possible, to the point of not even being there. The crisis over Patricia’s marital fate never really comes to a head (Rush doesn’t swoop in to save her from a wedding and a fate worse than death, for instance), except for a single catfight with Brecker’s girlfriend Mae (Adele Jergens), who doesn’t like the competition.

MrrrrOWRRR!

But despite the missed opportunities, it’s still a professional and entertaining movie, if not particularly memorable. Complimenting the actors seems a bit out of step, as they’re not called upon to portray roles beyond the necessities of type, but everyone (with the sole exception of the World’s Worst Hollywood Indian) earns their wages. (Special note must be made of fading B-western star Wayne Morris as Dandy, the even-handed bartender who plays referee in his establishment; his uncanny resemblance to Mike Nelson of MST3K gives the unwarranted expression that he’s always setting up a straight line.) Similarly, the production is professional, though hampered by some bad minor continuity, and by some atrocious day-for-night shooting in a story that’s set at least half at night. (Well into the first scene, I belatedly realized that it was supposed to be late in the evening only because Rush lights a match to read a sign that’s already clearly visible. It would have helped if the camera hadn’t always been at a low angle, silhouetting almost every character against a clearly bright sky.)

“I hope no one saw me, here in the pitch-black dead of night…”

But this is the kind of movie that’s made for unambitious staging; a couple of cabins, a standing Western Main Street set, a couple of horses, and two dozen supporting actors and extras in period costume — and presto, you’ve got a western!