In this rather routine-plotted Western, the men keep referring to Audie Murphy as "the boy" or "the kid." It seemed to fit. He was almost thirty but didn't look it. He wasn't big, like John Wayne, or deep of voice. He was self effacing. His acting talents were modest. He gave one memorable performance in "The Red Badge of Courage," a flawed movie, but not flawed because of him. And all his life suffered from what we would now call PTSD. It practically wrecked him. He slept with a pistol under his pillow and had recurring dreams of being attacked by Germans while his M-1 fell apart, piece by piece, in his hands. He really earned those decorations.
In "Ride Clear of Diablo," a mid-career movie, he's the good guy whose father and younger brother have been killed while trying to prevent their cattle from being rustled. He comes to town from Denver, where he's been working as a railroad dispatcher or something equally clerical. The local sheriff and lawyer, being particeps criminis themselves, send him after Whitey Kinkaid, the gunslinger in a nearby town, played by Dan Duryea, thinking that the kid will draw on Whitey and get his head shot off. Murphy outdraws Whitey, shoots the gun out of his hand, and takes him captive. It's the kind of movie where no one bothers to explain how a railroad bureaucrat has learned to shoot so well.
It gets kind of interesting because a bond of wary friendship develops between Duryea, who happens to be innocent of this particular crime, and Murphy. Not that they hug each other and take showers together, but Duryea shows his respect for Murphy by doing him little favors, such as not shooting him in the back when he has the chance to do it.
Duryea is his usual wisecracking self, all smiles. He laughs a lot. He laughs so much that sometimes he seems like a maniac and the director should have reined him in. But, okay. He's one of those likable rogues. It's a familiar enough figure in movies. The relationship is complex enough to keep the viewer interested. Without it, you're just watching another Audie Murphy Western.
Susan Cabot is the good girl. She's as innocent and well behaved as Audie Murphy. Murphy has one drink in the movie, except for a lot of water and milk and coffee. Cabot may have been mentally unbalanced and met a bad death. Abbe Lane is the naughty girl. She has hair the color of a tangerine and sings in a saloon, so we know she's bad. But, though she may have slept with her boyfriend or something, she's not evil. Both women are made up like mannequins and sport false eyelashes the size of tarpaulins.
I won't give the ending away except to reveal what the experienced viewer must already know -- Murphy and Cabot live happily ever after.
In "Ride Clear of Diablo," a mid-career movie, he's the good guy whose father and younger brother have been killed while trying to prevent their cattle from being rustled. He comes to town from Denver, where he's been working as a railroad dispatcher or something equally clerical. The local sheriff and lawyer, being particeps criminis themselves, send him after Whitey Kinkaid, the gunslinger in a nearby town, played by Dan Duryea, thinking that the kid will draw on Whitey and get his head shot off. Murphy outdraws Whitey, shoots the gun out of his hand, and takes him captive. It's the kind of movie where no one bothers to explain how a railroad bureaucrat has learned to shoot so well.
It gets kind of interesting because a bond of wary friendship develops between Duryea, who happens to be innocent of this particular crime, and Murphy. Not that they hug each other and take showers together, but Duryea shows his respect for Murphy by doing him little favors, such as not shooting him in the back when he has the chance to do it.
Duryea is his usual wisecracking self, all smiles. He laughs a lot. He laughs so much that sometimes he seems like a maniac and the director should have reined him in. But, okay. He's one of those likable rogues. It's a familiar enough figure in movies. The relationship is complex enough to keep the viewer interested. Without it, you're just watching another Audie Murphy Western.
Susan Cabot is the good girl. She's as innocent and well behaved as Audie Murphy. Murphy has one drink in the movie, except for a lot of water and milk and coffee. Cabot may have been mentally unbalanced and met a bad death. Abbe Lane is the naughty girl. She has hair the color of a tangerine and sings in a saloon, so we know she's bad. But, though she may have slept with her boyfriend or something, she's not evil. Both women are made up like mannequins and sport false eyelashes the size of tarpaulins.
I won't give the ending away except to reveal what the experienced viewer must already know -- Murphy and Cabot live happily ever after.