There are so many subplots in this large-scale Western that with a little finagling here and there it might have been set in Omsk in 1841.
Let me see. Proud former Confederate veteran John Breckenridge (Cotten) is now a drunk who owns a vast herd of cattle in Mexico and is married to his staunchly supportive wife (Malone). A criminal on the lam (Douglas) shows up at the hacienda. He's safe from the law in Mexico and he once had a fling with Malone years ago and still is interested in her, though she cares nothing now for him. Malone has a teen aged daughter (Lynley) who develops an adolescent crush on the charming and poetic Douglas. Trouble arrives -- if it hasn't already -- in the form of a Texas sheriff (Hudson) with a warrant for Douglas. The warrant can't be served in Mexico.
The more general problem facing this disparate group is getting the herd across Mexico and into the town of Crazy Horse, Texas, where it can be sold. It's a BIG herd too, don't kid yourself. We see every head of cattle. But where to find the hands to herd the cattle? Malone and Lynley will be along, of course, and Douglas and Hudson both sign on but that's not enough. Cotten hires a trio of local muchachos who always seem to be singing at the camp fire or crossing themselves solemnly during moments of suspense. Three other raggedy Americans show up and volunteer but we know at once they can't be trusted because one is Jack Elam, whose eyes look in different directions like a chameleon's, and another is the nasty-faced Neville Brand, who has never played anything but a treacherous scalawag. There's a third guy but he's an oily cholo with a toothy smile and his eyes are always glued to the women.
The drive begins, but it's so full of confrontations and intrigues that it would take too long to explain. It's full of action but some of the incidents hardly seem related to one another and the motivations are often as murky as the river that hides the quicksand that engulfs Hudson's dumb horse. For instance, I don't know why Douglas's devotion to Malone suddenly switches to her daughter, Lynley, who is only fifteen. Okay, Lynley has always been short-haired and dressed in sloppy work clothes until she shows up in a dress. But we've been here before and anybody with half an eye could have seen immediately that Lynley, whatever she had on, if anything, was as succulent as an overripe peach.
Here's another incident, and it's a real shocker. Lynley follows Douglas around, mooning over him like a faithful dog, until finally he's won over, presumably by her innocence as well as that warm red sensuality. He tries to convince her that, after all, she should find another man because he's old enough to be her father. She's unyielding in her attraction to Douglas's animal magnetism and the dimple in his chin. So they do it in the woods. Here's the shocker. You remember when he said he was old enough to be her father? Well, as Malone informs him, he really IS her father -- and he's been doing her! This is a serious business. You can throw out all his other crimes -- the thievery, the murders, the betrayals, the grand theft auto. This is incest we're talking about. It's a universal taboo. Of the roughly 4,000 cultures we know something about, none of them allowed for marriage or intercourse within the family, with a handful of exceptions (eg., the royal Inca, the royal Hawaiians -- the family not the hotel -- and the ancient Pharaohs). Cousins are usually okay, but not anybody in the nuclear family. Douglas's violation of the taboo is handled lightly. The word "incest" is never mentioned. When he learns that he has just balled his daughter, Douglas looks stricken, but only because it means he can't marry Lynley. It's treated as a strictly legal matter of marriage.
For all the money that must have gone into this production, it all comes out as rather slapdash. The three raggedy Americans are only there to provide an action sequence in which they are killed. No cowboy ever wore anything like Douglas's color-coordinate outfit. A black hat, black form-fitted shirt, black gun belt, black leotards, and glossy black boots by Gucci Pucci -- all accessorized by a canary yellow neckerchief. He's the same color as a bumblebee and a bicycle I once owned. His hair is never less than exquisitely trimmed and gelled by the studio barber.
I'm going to run out of space so let me just add that Rock Hudson's role as the grim avenger is dull, and that Cotten, as the Confederate officer Breckenridge, is not the same character as John Cabell Breckenridge, the Confederate general from Kentucky who fought in the Battle of New Market, of which you may see a facsimile in "the little boys' charge" in John Ford's "The Horse Soldiers."
Let me see. Proud former Confederate veteran John Breckenridge (Cotten) is now a drunk who owns a vast herd of cattle in Mexico and is married to his staunchly supportive wife (Malone). A criminal on the lam (Douglas) shows up at the hacienda. He's safe from the law in Mexico and he once had a fling with Malone years ago and still is interested in her, though she cares nothing now for him. Malone has a teen aged daughter (Lynley) who develops an adolescent crush on the charming and poetic Douglas. Trouble arrives -- if it hasn't already -- in the form of a Texas sheriff (Hudson) with a warrant for Douglas. The warrant can't be served in Mexico.
The more general problem facing this disparate group is getting the herd across Mexico and into the town of Crazy Horse, Texas, where it can be sold. It's a BIG herd too, don't kid yourself. We see every head of cattle. But where to find the hands to herd the cattle? Malone and Lynley will be along, of course, and Douglas and Hudson both sign on but that's not enough. Cotten hires a trio of local muchachos who always seem to be singing at the camp fire or crossing themselves solemnly during moments of suspense. Three other raggedy Americans show up and volunteer but we know at once they can't be trusted because one is Jack Elam, whose eyes look in different directions like a chameleon's, and another is the nasty-faced Neville Brand, who has never played anything but a treacherous scalawag. There's a third guy but he's an oily cholo with a toothy smile and his eyes are always glued to the women.
The drive begins, but it's so full of confrontations and intrigues that it would take too long to explain. It's full of action but some of the incidents hardly seem related to one another and the motivations are often as murky as the river that hides the quicksand that engulfs Hudson's dumb horse. For instance, I don't know why Douglas's devotion to Malone suddenly switches to her daughter, Lynley, who is only fifteen. Okay, Lynley has always been short-haired and dressed in sloppy work clothes until she shows up in a dress. But we've been here before and anybody with half an eye could have seen immediately that Lynley, whatever she had on, if anything, was as succulent as an overripe peach.
Here's another incident, and it's a real shocker. Lynley follows Douglas around, mooning over him like a faithful dog, until finally he's won over, presumably by her innocence as well as that warm red sensuality. He tries to convince her that, after all, she should find another man because he's old enough to be her father. She's unyielding in her attraction to Douglas's animal magnetism and the dimple in his chin. So they do it in the woods. Here's the shocker. You remember when he said he was old enough to be her father? Well, as Malone informs him, he really IS her father -- and he's been doing her! This is a serious business. You can throw out all his other crimes -- the thievery, the murders, the betrayals, the grand theft auto. This is incest we're talking about. It's a universal taboo. Of the roughly 4,000 cultures we know something about, none of them allowed for marriage or intercourse within the family, with a handful of exceptions (eg., the royal Inca, the royal Hawaiians -- the family not the hotel -- and the ancient Pharaohs). Cousins are usually okay, but not anybody in the nuclear family. Douglas's violation of the taboo is handled lightly. The word "incest" is never mentioned. When he learns that he has just balled his daughter, Douglas looks stricken, but only because it means he can't marry Lynley. It's treated as a strictly legal matter of marriage.
For all the money that must have gone into this production, it all comes out as rather slapdash. The three raggedy Americans are only there to provide an action sequence in which they are killed. No cowboy ever wore anything like Douglas's color-coordinate outfit. A black hat, black form-fitted shirt, black gun belt, black leotards, and glossy black boots by Gucci Pucci -- all accessorized by a canary yellow neckerchief. He's the same color as a bumblebee and a bicycle I once owned. His hair is never less than exquisitely trimmed and gelled by the studio barber.
I'm going to run out of space so let me just add that Rock Hudson's role as the grim avenger is dull, and that Cotten, as the Confederate officer Breckenridge, is not the same character as John Cabell Breckenridge, the Confederate general from Kentucky who fought in the Battle of New Market, of which you may see a facsimile in "the little boys' charge" in John Ford's "The Horse Soldiers."