The studios were grinding out these B Westerns like SuperSonicBurgers all during the 30s and 40s. El Cheapo Studios produced nothing BUT low budget Westerns, often with the same cast and crew. In the period preceding television, if one can imagine that distance back into history, audiences had nothing else to watch except movies. There was an A feature, a B feature, a cartoon, a newsreel, and often a short documentary.
"Nevada" was clearly meant to fit into the B category. They were done quickly, recklessly, and minutes of shooting counted. Under the watchful eyes of hack directors like Lesley Selander or, here, Edward Killy, if an actor flubbed a line or his gun didn't fire when it should have, the cameras rolled philosophically on.
Mitchum's career was just past its beginning. He was graduating from supporting roles, sometimes as a bearded henchman, to leads, and he was emerging from cheap Westerns. But he was ordered back to Lone Pine by the studio with which he'd sign a contract. He didn't care for the location, although it's rather pleasant. The landscape is filled with varied textures; the sun always shines; Mount Whitney in the background has veins of snow all year round. So many other features have been filmed there that the huge stucco rocks still show the cement and steel of previous sets. It's just off route 395. Visit it at once.
Oh, the movie? Forget it. Mitchum is interchangeable with any other Western star of the period, except bigger than most. I must have missed the "smoldering sexuality" that some others noticed. The movie is plot driven. The values of the characters are made obvious at the beginning and they don't change. Any complexity or ambiguity is accidental. It's supposed to be from a Zane Grey novel but evidently the only element the writers borrowed was the author's name.
"Nevada" was clearly meant to fit into the B category. They were done quickly, recklessly, and minutes of shooting counted. Under the watchful eyes of hack directors like Lesley Selander or, here, Edward Killy, if an actor flubbed a line or his gun didn't fire when it should have, the cameras rolled philosophically on.
Mitchum's career was just past its beginning. He was graduating from supporting roles, sometimes as a bearded henchman, to leads, and he was emerging from cheap Westerns. But he was ordered back to Lone Pine by the studio with which he'd sign a contract. He didn't care for the location, although it's rather pleasant. The landscape is filled with varied textures; the sun always shines; Mount Whitney in the background has veins of snow all year round. So many other features have been filmed there that the huge stucco rocks still show the cement and steel of previous sets. It's just off route 395. Visit it at once.
Oh, the movie? Forget it. Mitchum is interchangeable with any other Western star of the period, except bigger than most. I must have missed the "smoldering sexuality" that some others noticed. The movie is plot driven. The values of the characters are made obvious at the beginning and they don't change. Any complexity or ambiguity is accidental. It's supposed to be from a Zane Grey novel but evidently the only element the writers borrowed was the author's name.