It takes place in Kansas a few years before the Civil War began in 1861, and it outlines the attempt of the nattily dressed Jeff Chandler to change Kansas from a territory to his own empire, town by town. The routine goes like this. Chandler sends his band of masked men into town dressed as "Redlegs" to hurrah the place and break windows and commit pillage and outrage the local gals. Then he and his men later ride into town as themselves, the "Jayhawkers", and promise to protect the good folk, who will have nothing more to fear from the Redlegs. When the Mafia do this, it's called extortion.
Who were the Jayhawkers, you ask, and well you might. They were supposedly free-staters as opposed to the pro-slavery faction. The Redlegs were a violent splinter group of the Jayhawkers. But these are just names. In fact, Kansas was a mess. The war between slavery and freedom deteriorated into a series of bloody raids back and forth -- one of them led by John Brown. So it's not necessary to try to figure out who Chandler represented historically. He's a fiction. Besides, who wants to remember all those slang names -- Jayhawkers, Redlegs, Border Ruffians (eg., Jesse James), Carpetbaggers, and Copperheads? You can forget all of that. This is the story of a man whose reach exceeded his grasp.
According to this tale, though, Chandler might have made it if it hadn't been for Fess Parker as the Army's undercover agent who finally undoes Chandler. Parker is the main character. It's too bad because his is a complex role. He has to change from hating Chandler, to admiring and protecting him, to betraying him. And he simply mopes his way through the part, not convincing for a second.
Chandler's role is, if anything, even more complex, a little like Wolf Larson in "The Sea Wolf" but without the sadism. He's delicately brutal -- about others, about himself, and about life in general -- and not devoid of brotherly feelings towards the secret traitor in their midst. (If that's what those sentiments represent; and let's have no remarks about homoeroticism.)
Chandler is very suave. He teaches Parker to read the classics. "Ya done taught me about fellers like that Frenchman Alexander." Chandler smiles condescendingly as if speaking to a kindergartener, "He was a Greek." (Well, almost; he was Macedonian.) Chandler drinks only wine, and only GOOD wine.
You get the picture. When Jeff Chandler finally establishes his empire, his idea of governance is simple. There will be peace. I decide what "peace" means. Anybody who disobeys in the slightest will be summarily shot. He will unquestionably govern his empire from Chandler City, in Chandler County, in the Republic of Chandlerstan.
Jeff Chandler handles this complicated and ambiguous role as best he can. It's easy to imagine lesser actors in the role. Fess Parker, for one. But Chandler always seems to carry a tentative, wounded quality around with him. His smiles don't seem real. And his proclamations sound earnest, passionate, but neither confident nor boastful. There's little of Little Caesar in his Little Napoleon.
The photography and locations will suffice and the musical score has been lauded. Elmer Bernstein probably heard it before scoring "The Magnificent Seven."
Who were the Jayhawkers, you ask, and well you might. They were supposedly free-staters as opposed to the pro-slavery faction. The Redlegs were a violent splinter group of the Jayhawkers. But these are just names. In fact, Kansas was a mess. The war between slavery and freedom deteriorated into a series of bloody raids back and forth -- one of them led by John Brown. So it's not necessary to try to figure out who Chandler represented historically. He's a fiction. Besides, who wants to remember all those slang names -- Jayhawkers, Redlegs, Border Ruffians (eg., Jesse James), Carpetbaggers, and Copperheads? You can forget all of that. This is the story of a man whose reach exceeded his grasp.
According to this tale, though, Chandler might have made it if it hadn't been for Fess Parker as the Army's undercover agent who finally undoes Chandler. Parker is the main character. It's too bad because his is a complex role. He has to change from hating Chandler, to admiring and protecting him, to betraying him. And he simply mopes his way through the part, not convincing for a second.
Chandler's role is, if anything, even more complex, a little like Wolf Larson in "The Sea Wolf" but without the sadism. He's delicately brutal -- about others, about himself, and about life in general -- and not devoid of brotherly feelings towards the secret traitor in their midst. (If that's what those sentiments represent; and let's have no remarks about homoeroticism.)
Chandler is very suave. He teaches Parker to read the classics. "Ya done taught me about fellers like that Frenchman Alexander." Chandler smiles condescendingly as if speaking to a kindergartener, "He was a Greek." (Well, almost; he was Macedonian.) Chandler drinks only wine, and only GOOD wine.
You get the picture. When Jeff Chandler finally establishes his empire, his idea of governance is simple. There will be peace. I decide what "peace" means. Anybody who disobeys in the slightest will be summarily shot. He will unquestionably govern his empire from Chandler City, in Chandler County, in the Republic of Chandlerstan.
Jeff Chandler handles this complicated and ambiguous role as best he can. It's easy to imagine lesser actors in the role. Fess Parker, for one. But Chandler always seems to carry a tentative, wounded quality around with him. His smiles don't seem real. And his proclamations sound earnest, passionate, but neither confident nor boastful. There's little of Little Caesar in his Little Napoleon.
The photography and locations will suffice and the musical score has been lauded. Elmer Bernstein probably heard it before scoring "The Magnificent Seven."