It's Abilene, Kansas, the end of the cattle drive from Texas. (Cf., "Red River.") The town depends on the money the rough-hewn cowboys bring in. One side of Texas Street is all saloons; the other is all merchants or, as they're usually called, goods and mercantile shops. The town exists in a steady state, moderated at time by the town marshal, Scott, and the cowardly county sheriff, Buchanan. One day a flood of homesteaders plods through and takes up residence on farm lands just outside. They fence off the land and the cattlemen don't like it. (Cf., "Shane".) The head cattleman hires a gunfighter. (Loc. cit.) Conflict ensues. The farmers win and the cattlemen are tamed. Scott marries the right girl (Dvorak).
Edgar Buchanan, when we first see him, muses about "going back to dentistry." Before films, Buchanan was a dentist like his father. He was a graduate of what is now Oregon Health & Science University School of Dentistry. He moved his practice to California before entering films.
The moral calculus is confusing. I was never very good at calculus to begin with but I could usually come up with a decent gestalt. Not here. Let me see. The cattlemen discover their trail is fenced off by farmers, so they destroy the fence and several homesteaders. Everyone in town anticipates their coming to wreck the store that sold the barbed wire to the farmers. And, as expected, a horde of cowpunchers rides portentously into town. Do they attack the barbed wire store? No. They bust into the closed saloons. Dvorak owns one of the saloons. Why doesn't she try to stop the chaos? A young, headstrong farmer, Lloyd Bridges, leads the homesteaders onto the land and fences it in, claiming it's government land, we have a right to fence it off. If the government land is free, don't the cattlemen have a right to use the land, pari passu? Why are the farmers treated as the "good guys" when they could have avoided conflict by leaving an open path through their many acres for the drovers to use? They might have charged a small fee.
Scott is his usual taciturn self, but he smiles tolerantly more often. Buchanan is sometimes amusing. He loves to win card games, so when he runs into a redneck farmer he's eager to teach him how to play. When the hands are dealt, the tyro asks, "What did you say was higher -- a King or a Queen?" Buchanan leans over and examines the other guy's cards. "Mmmm. Let's deal another hand." It wouldn't have been funny if Buchanan had simply lied.
Dvorak is pretty in an unusual way. She has a great smile and her eyes are startling. And she did a memorable hootch-kootchie in "Scarface." Here she sings too much as a dance hall girl. And her name -- I never know how to pronounced it. Is it pronounced as it's spelled? Or is it pronounced "Dvor-zhak" like the Czech composer's? And what the hell was the matter with her real name, Anna McKim? Somebody's pulling the wool over somebody's eyes around here.
It occurred to me while watching this that three of the community forces involved here correspond rather neatly to three of the American regions described in Colin Woodard's book, "American Nation." The homesteaders are Woodard's "Yankees" who migrate as a cohesive community full of ambition. The rowdy cowboys are Woodard's "Appalachians" who reject regulations and believe a man is responsible for his own actions. Scott is a "Borderlander," like a Philadelphian, who is tolerant and peaceful and egalitarian.
There have been reviews claiming that this is some kind of hidden gem, a secret cinematic triumph, but it really isn't. It's a decent Western. Randolph Scott never offends. I kind of enjoyed it.
Edgar Buchanan, when we first see him, muses about "going back to dentistry." Before films, Buchanan was a dentist like his father. He was a graduate of what is now Oregon Health & Science University School of Dentistry. He moved his practice to California before entering films.
The moral calculus is confusing. I was never very good at calculus to begin with but I could usually come up with a decent gestalt. Not here. Let me see. The cattlemen discover their trail is fenced off by farmers, so they destroy the fence and several homesteaders. Everyone in town anticipates their coming to wreck the store that sold the barbed wire to the farmers. And, as expected, a horde of cowpunchers rides portentously into town. Do they attack the barbed wire store? No. They bust into the closed saloons. Dvorak owns one of the saloons. Why doesn't she try to stop the chaos? A young, headstrong farmer, Lloyd Bridges, leads the homesteaders onto the land and fences it in, claiming it's government land, we have a right to fence it off. If the government land is free, don't the cattlemen have a right to use the land, pari passu? Why are the farmers treated as the "good guys" when they could have avoided conflict by leaving an open path through their many acres for the drovers to use? They might have charged a small fee.
Scott is his usual taciturn self, but he smiles tolerantly more often. Buchanan is sometimes amusing. He loves to win card games, so when he runs into a redneck farmer he's eager to teach him how to play. When the hands are dealt, the tyro asks, "What did you say was higher -- a King or a Queen?" Buchanan leans over and examines the other guy's cards. "Mmmm. Let's deal another hand." It wouldn't have been funny if Buchanan had simply lied.
Dvorak is pretty in an unusual way. She has a great smile and her eyes are startling. And she did a memorable hootch-kootchie in "Scarface." Here she sings too much as a dance hall girl. And her name -- I never know how to pronounced it. Is it pronounced as it's spelled? Or is it pronounced "Dvor-zhak" like the Czech composer's? And what the hell was the matter with her real name, Anna McKim? Somebody's pulling the wool over somebody's eyes around here.
It occurred to me while watching this that three of the community forces involved here correspond rather neatly to three of the American regions described in Colin Woodard's book, "American Nation." The homesteaders are Woodard's "Yankees" who migrate as a cohesive community full of ambition. The rowdy cowboys are Woodard's "Appalachians" who reject regulations and believe a man is responsible for his own actions. Scott is a "Borderlander," like a Philadelphian, who is tolerant and peaceful and egalitarian.
There have been reviews claiming that this is some kind of hidden gem, a secret cinematic triumph, but it really isn't. It's a decent Western. Randolph Scott never offends. I kind of enjoyed it.