Tough, up-right, and by-the-book Marshal Len Merrick (Kirk Douglas) is forced to transport a murder suspect (Walter Brennen) across an unforgiving desert with a lynch mob in pursuit. Whatever tension the film builds is wasted as Merrick repeatedly does foolish things (spending a night in the accused's house, allowing the potential killer's daughter to tag along (after she's pulled a gun on him), taking the pistol but not the cartridges from a potential threat etc.) but the biggest weakness is the blatantly obvious 'real killer', which makes the ending painfully predictable and unrewarding. Raoul Walsh was a great director but this oater, while beautifully filmed, suffers from a cliched script, unbelievable characters, and a lack of attention to detail. I'm not a huge fan of Douglas's clenched-tooth style of toughness but he's OK (as is Walter Brennen) but John Agar (who later would dominate the goofy world of low-budget '50s sci-fi) is out of his depth and Virginia Mayo is completely unconvincing as Brennen's tough ranch-girl daughter (and half of a contrived shoe-horned-in love story). All in all, a weak start to Douglass's extensive career in westerns.
Review of Along the Great Divide
