The Lone Star westerns John Wayne made for Monogram Pictures became his cut-rate purgatory before stardom. Some go down easier than others; "Texas Terror" mostly just goes down.
Sheriff John Higgins (Wayne) is fooled into believing he shot his best friend in a gunfight with robbers. It's decided the friend, an old man who happened to be carrying a wad of dough, was part of the robber gang, so Higgins is off the hook. He turns in his badge anyway.
"When duty makes it necessary to take the life of a man like Old Dan Matthews, then I'm through with duty," Higgins declares.
"Texas Terror" is the kind of movie where things happen abruptly. Coincidences abound unexplained. People deliver long exposition in the form of conversation, stiffly and at one point, staring directly at the camera: "I'll be so happy to get home. You see, I'm Bess Matthews, and I own the Lazy M," a woman tells a driver after he has presumably been driving her awhile.
Bess (Lucile Browne) is the daughter of the slain man, and for some reason new sheriff Ed Williams (George Hayes, not yet going by his better-known moniker "Gabby") decides Higgins is just the man to help Bess get Pa's ranch up and running. Never mind the fact he supposedly killed her father. Is this sort of thing supposed to be a secret forever, or does Ed think they will laugh it off when she finds out?
Wayne's Lone Star pictures were mostly sub-par films, often worse than that. But most of them do feature Wayne coming into his own as a solid anchor performer. Here, however, he seems flustered and bored. At one point, when talking to the second male lead, villain Joe Dickson (LeRoy Mason), he seems to forget the character's name, awkwardly stopping mid-line.
Director Robert N. Bradbury plays with spatial reality a lot here. In the beginning, we see Higgins right behind the robbers, even shooting one off his horse. The wounded man stumbles into a house where Dickson shoots Dan Matthews. This would have been heard by Higgins, you'd think, except somehow now the guy is ten minutes behind, so he can be led to believe he shot Matthews himself in a later battle, never mind the corpse is lying in the middle of a room, not near a window.
The film does have some grace notes. A milking contest brings some country charm, with lovable Fern Emmett as Bess's Aunt Martha going toe-to-toe with a competitive but amiable old coot. You also have a scene where rustlers threatening the Lazy M are set upon by local Indians who act at the behest of their friend, Higgins. The Lone Star productions were death on stunt horses, but nobody in the 21st century can fault them on their handling of Native Americans. Throughout Wayne's run there Indians are depicted as his wise and loyal friends.
Whatever the intentions on view, the movie is so draggy, unbelievable, and lifeless I struggled to sit through it, short as it was. Even Hayes seems less invested in his character this time around. Wayne looks formidably scruffy for a while after leaving the sheriff's job, even sporting a beard for a while, but he is hemmed in by the same exposition-laden dialogue that does in everyone else. "Texas Terror" wound up more like Texas Tedium to me.
Sheriff John Higgins (Wayne) is fooled into believing he shot his best friend in a gunfight with robbers. It's decided the friend, an old man who happened to be carrying a wad of dough, was part of the robber gang, so Higgins is off the hook. He turns in his badge anyway.
"When duty makes it necessary to take the life of a man like Old Dan Matthews, then I'm through with duty," Higgins declares.
"Texas Terror" is the kind of movie where things happen abruptly. Coincidences abound unexplained. People deliver long exposition in the form of conversation, stiffly and at one point, staring directly at the camera: "I'll be so happy to get home. You see, I'm Bess Matthews, and I own the Lazy M," a woman tells a driver after he has presumably been driving her awhile.
Bess (Lucile Browne) is the daughter of the slain man, and for some reason new sheriff Ed Williams (George Hayes, not yet going by his better-known moniker "Gabby") decides Higgins is just the man to help Bess get Pa's ranch up and running. Never mind the fact he supposedly killed her father. Is this sort of thing supposed to be a secret forever, or does Ed think they will laugh it off when she finds out?
Wayne's Lone Star pictures were mostly sub-par films, often worse than that. But most of them do feature Wayne coming into his own as a solid anchor performer. Here, however, he seems flustered and bored. At one point, when talking to the second male lead, villain Joe Dickson (LeRoy Mason), he seems to forget the character's name, awkwardly stopping mid-line.
Director Robert N. Bradbury plays with spatial reality a lot here. In the beginning, we see Higgins right behind the robbers, even shooting one off his horse. The wounded man stumbles into a house where Dickson shoots Dan Matthews. This would have been heard by Higgins, you'd think, except somehow now the guy is ten minutes behind, so he can be led to believe he shot Matthews himself in a later battle, never mind the corpse is lying in the middle of a room, not near a window.
The film does have some grace notes. A milking contest brings some country charm, with lovable Fern Emmett as Bess's Aunt Martha going toe-to-toe with a competitive but amiable old coot. You also have a scene where rustlers threatening the Lazy M are set upon by local Indians who act at the behest of their friend, Higgins. The Lone Star productions were death on stunt horses, but nobody in the 21st century can fault them on their handling of Native Americans. Throughout Wayne's run there Indians are depicted as his wise and loyal friends.
Whatever the intentions on view, the movie is so draggy, unbelievable, and lifeless I struggled to sit through it, short as it was. Even Hayes seems less invested in his character this time around. Wayne looks formidably scruffy for a while after leaving the sheriff's job, even sporting a beard for a while, but he is hemmed in by the same exposition-laden dialogue that does in everyone else. "Texas Terror" wound up more like Texas Tedium to me.