The Lone Rider Rides On (1941, directed by Sam Newfield)


In the days of the wild west, Tom Cameron (George Houston) rides the range alone, seeking vengeance for the murder of his family.  They were killed when their wagon train was ambushed by the same outlaws who has previously sold them a plot of land.  Tom was a child at the time and he only remembers that the leader of the outlaws had a distinctive facial scar.  Tom Cameron is The Lone Rider.

No, not the Long Ranger.  The Lone Rider!  George Houston was an opera star who made for a surprisingly convincing gunslinger and the movie opens with him singing I Am The Lone Rider, just to make sure that it was understood that his vengeance-driven vigilante was a completely different character from that other vengeance-driven vigilante.  The Lone Rider is looking to avenge his family and, with the help of store keeper “Fuzzy” Jones (professional sidekick Al St. John), the Lone Rider does just that.  Though this is a standard B-western, the plot is a little more serious than most other B-movies.  This was the first of several Lone Rider movies and, despite the obviously low budget, there’s some emotional heft to its story.  Tom discovers that his brother (Lee Powell), who he thought had died in the attack, actually survived and joined up with the gang.  The story is about both Tom’s vengeance and his brother’s redemption.  Fans of the genre will enjoy the film’s classic western story and George Houston’s convincing performance as a gunslinger on a mission.

The Lone Rider would ride on for 16 more movies, the last one being released in 1944.  In 1942, George Houston was replaced in the lead role by Robert Livingston.  Houston went from starring in westerns to becoming one of Hollywood’s most respected vocal coaches.  (Howard Keel was one of his students.)  Shortly after the Lone Rider road for the last time, George Houston died while planning his musical comeback.  He had a heart attack and the police, thinking he was just intoxicated, tossed him in the drunk tank where he subsequently died.  He was only 48 years old.

Billy The Kid’s Range War (1941, directed by Sam Newfield)


Billy the Kid was a big damn hero.

At least that’s the claim of Billy The Kid’s Range War, in which Billy (played by middle-aged Bob Steele) is a do-gooder with a comedic sidekick named Fuzzy (Al St. John) and a hankering to help Ellen Gorman (Joan Barclay) bring a new stagecoach line to town.  Williams (Karl Hackett) does want to the Gorman family to success so he hires Buck (Rex Lease) to dress up like Billy the Kid and ride a horse that looks like Billy the Kid’s and commit crimes, like killing Ellen’s father.  Framed for all those crimes that he didn’t commit and with his best friend (Carleton Young) ordered to arrest him, Billy decides to go under cover so that he can clear his good name.  Someone pretending to be Billy the Kid got him into this mess.  Now, Billy’s going to get out of it by pretending to be someone else.

The action is pretty standard for a B-western.  Mostly, it’s interesting to see a movie where Billy the Kid is actually a nice guy who gets framed.  No wonder a whole generation grew up with no idea about true history of the American frontier.  Sam Newfield directed a handful of Billy the Kid films and the capable Bob Steele starred in most of them but this is the only one that I’ve sat down and watched and it actually left me missing the production values of the Johnny Mack Brown films.  For fans of these type of westerns, there’s the promise of seeing familiar actors like George Cheseboro and Ted Adams doing there thing.  Even the outstanding character actor Milton Kibbee makes an appearance.  For those who do not like westerns, this film is not going to change their minds.

Despite the promise of the title, there is no range war in this movie.  There’s just Billy the Kid, trying to clear his good name.

Boothill Brigade (1937, directed by Sam Newfield)


Rancher Jeff Reynolds (Frank LaRue) used to be one of the good guys on the frontier but he’s recently changed.  He fired all of his loyal ranch hands and instead hired a motely crew of outlaws.  He’s buying up land and evicting the squatters who have been living there.  About the only good thing he does is hire Lon Cardigan (Johnny Mack Brown) to be his new herd boss.  Lon is engaged to Reynolds’s daughter, Bobbie (Claire Rochelle).  With the help of Bobbie and comic relief cook Calico Haynes (Horace Murphy), Lon tries to figure out why Reynolds is now doing the bidding of the evil John Porter (Ed Cassidy).

The title is the most exciting thing about this movie, which is one of those old B-movies that puts the “creak” in creaky.  There’s surprisingly little gunplay but there is a lot of horse riding.  For a film that runs less than an hour, a surprising amount of it is just shots of people riding from one location to another.  The horses’ hooves sound impressive on the soundtrack but it’s not exactly exciting.  As always, Johnny Mack Brown is a convincing cowboy.  It’s a good thing he looks like he knows what he’s doing when he’s riding a horse!  The plot was standard B-western fluff.  Johnny Mack Brown appeared in a ton of westerns and almost all of them seemed to feature the same range war.  There are better Johnny Mack Brown movies out there.  This one is for completists only.

Guns In The Dark (1937, directed by Sam Newfield)


In Mexico, two American cowboys, Johnny Darrel (Johnny Mack Brown) and Dick Martin (Julian Madison) join a poker game to try to win some money and help out their buddy, Oscar (Sid Saylor).  When they discover that cantina owner Manuel Mendez (Ted Adams) has rigged the game, a fight breaks out.  The lights turn off.  In the darkness, several guns are fired.  When the lights come back up, Dick is dead.  Mendez convinces Johnny that he accidentally shot his friend in the fight.  Guilt-stricken, Johnny tosses aside his guns and returns to Texas.

Johnny has sworn that he will never shoot another gun but when he’s hired to work at a ranch owned by Joan Williams (Claire Rochelle), he finds himself in the middle of a range war between Joan and Brace Stevens (Dick Curtis), with Mendez also making an unwelcome return to Johnny’s life.  Even after Johnny discovers the truth about what happened that night at the cantina, he doesn’t pick up a gun.  Instead, Johnny fights the bad guys with lassos and plates.

Guns In The Dark is only 54 minutes long and it features actors who will be familiar to any fan of the old B-westerns.  Sidekcick Sid Saylor’s stuttering schtick gets old quickly but Johnny Mack Brown is as likable as always in Guns In The Dark and he comes across as being an authentic cowboy even when he’s not carrying a gun  Given that this film features even more horse chases than the typical Johnny Mack Brown b-western, it’s good that Brown is so convincing.  What isn’t convincing is how stupid Johnny Darrel is required to be in order for him to fall for Mendez’s lie in the first place.  I appreciated the change of pace from Brown just using a gun to stop the bad guys but I wish the reason behind it had been more convincing.  This isn’t one of Johnny Mack Brown’s more memorable westerns though, as always, it’s easy to see why he was one of the early stars of the genre.

 

Bar-Z Bad Men (1937, directed by Sam Newfield)


After getting kicked out of town for shooting the place up during a night of friendly fun, cowboy Jim Waters (Johnny Mack Brown) drops in on his old friend, rancher Ed Parks (Jack Rothwell).  Ed has got a strange problem.  There are cattle rustlers about but instead of stealing Ed’s cattle, they’re adding cattle to Ed’s herd.  It’s an obvious scheme to try to create a feud between Ed and his neighbor, rancher Hamp Harvey (Frank LaRue).  Before Jim and Ed can solve the problem, Ed is gunned down.  Harvey is the number one suspect but Jim figures out the truth, that Harvey has been betrayed by one of his own employees and that all of this is a part of a scheme by Sig Bostell (Tom London) to take control of both ranches.

Bar-Z Bad Man is a B-western with a notably twisty plot as Bostell plays both sides against each other for his own benefit.  As usual, Johnny Mack Brown makes for a good and convincing western hero.  Whether he’s chasing someone on his horse or drawing his guns, Brown is always a convincing cowboy.  What makes this film interesting is that it opens with Johnny Mack Brown engaging in the type of behavior that most B-western heroes would never think of doing.  Shooting up the town and then getting exiled for his actions adds an element of redemption to Jim’s efforts to get to the bottom of Bostell’s schemes.  Or it would if Jim ever really seemed to feel bad about shooting the town up.  His excuse is that he was just having a good time.  Try to get away with that in the real old west, Jim!

Bar-Z Bad Men is a good B-western for those who like the genre.  The story is solid and Johnny Mack Brown is as convincing saving the west as he was shooting it up.

 

3 Desperate Men (1951, directed by Sam Newfield)


Tom and Fred Denton (Preston Foster and Jim Davis) are two frontier lawmen who are frustrated with their jobs.  They are both owed backpay.  When they shoot an outlaw, they are expected to pay the $80 burial fee.  Neither Tom nor Fred feels that they are appreciated by banks and the railroads that expect them to risk their lives on a daily basis.

When Tom and Fred are informed that their younger brother, Matt (Kim Spalding), has been convicted of murder and sentenced to hang in another town, they ride off to save him.

Even though Tom and Fred can both provide an alibi for Matt and it is obvious that Matt has been framed by a corrupt railroad agent, the town is still determined to hang him.  Tom and Fred manage to rescue him from the gallows but, in the process, a deputy is killed.  Now wanted by the authorities, the Denton brothers are forced to team up with the same outlaws that they used to hunt.  Soon, the Dentons are robbing banks and trains and their old friend, Pete Coleman (Monte Blue), has been ordered to captured them, dead or alive.

One of the many low budget westerns to be produced by the Lippert Company, Three Desperate Men is a cut above the usual B-western.  None of the Dentons want to be outlaws but they are forced into it by circumstances out of their control.  The real villains of the film are the bankers and the railroad tycoons who hoard the land and the money and who try to cheat men like Tom and Fred out of their rightfully earned wages.  The Denton brothers ultimately decide that their number one loyalty is to each other and that leads to the movie’s fatalistic conclusion, which is surprisingly violent for a 1951 western.  Preston Foster, Jim Davis, and Monte Blue head a cast that is full of tough and authentic western veterans and the action scenes are imaginatively staged by director Sam Newfield.  Three Desperate Men is a B-western that can be enjoyed even by those who don’t like westerns.

Film Review: Hitler — Beast of Berlin (dir by Sam Newfield)


1939’s Hitler — Beast of Berlin opens with a shot of Nazi stormtroopers marching down a Berlin street.  As they pass, every civilian stands and gives them the stiff-armed Nazi salute.  A couple sitting in a park does it.  A woman pushing a baby carriage does it.  A group of children do it.

Despite outward appearances, not everyone in Berlin is a supporter of Hitler or the Nazis.  Hans Memling (Roland Drew) is an intellectual and a veteran of World War I.  He knows that Germany’s economic policies are, in fact, making the country weaker.  He knows that Hitler is determined to provoke a war that Germany cannot win.  Prophetically, Hans speaks of the risk of German citizens being forced to fight in a war that is only being fought on behalf of Hitler’s ego.  He warns that Berlin and Germany will be destroyed if Hitler is not stopped.

Along with a group of other dissidents, Hans prints an underground newspaper, one that presents the truth about what is happening in Germany.  Working with him, among others, is his brother-in-law, Karl (Alan Ladd, in an early role) and a priest named Father Pommer (Frederick Giermann).  Their contact in the Gestapo is Alfred Stahlhelm (played by Hans Heinrich von Twardowski, a German actor who escaped Germany when Hitler came to power).  Stahlhelm is an alcoholic who fears that he will accidentally slip up when he’s drunk.  As he explains it, a member of the Gestapo is expected to drink and visit brothels when he is off-duty.  If he doesn’t, he will be immediately suspected of insubordination.

When the Gestapo does come for Hans’s operation, Hans finds himself separated from his wife (Steffi Duna) and imprisoned.  The only thing that keeps Hans alive is that the camp commandant is an old friend from World War I.  Hans can only watch as his allies are either executed or forced, after torture, to declare their loyalty to Hitler.  When Hans is finally given an opportunity to escape, he must decide whether to flee to Switzerland or to remain in Germany and continue to fight the Nazi regime.

The most interesting thing about this film is that it was made in 1939 and released into theaters a month after Germany invaded Poland.  The film was released at a time when America was still officially neutral and when isolationism was still a popular policy.  It was released at a time when many Americans were still dealing with the trauma of World War I and, as such, felt that Europe should be left alone to deal with its conflicts on its own.  As such, the film struggled with both the enforcers of the Motion Picture Production Code but also with local censors who felt that the film might offend the German communities within their towns.  James G. Stahlman, editor of the Nashville Banner, was moved to write an editorial calling for the film to be banned because it might inspire audiences to want to go to war with Germany.  Despite all that, Hitler — Beast of Berlin did well at the box office, though many theater owners chose to advertise it as being titled either Beast of Berlin or The Goose Steppers.

Seen today, parts of the film seem naive.  Despite the film being fervently and unapologetically anti-Nazi, it is still obviously a film made at a time when the full depravity of the Nazi regime had not yet been revealed.  The scenes in the concentration camp feel as if they could have been lifted from any 1930s prison film and they certainly come nowhere close to depicting what we now know was actually happening.  Indeed, the film barely acknowledges the anti-Semitism that lay at the heart of Nazi ideology.  But the film does do a good job of portraying life in a society where no one can be trusted and where simply saying the wrong word can lead to prison, torture, and even worse.  The film captures the fear and paranoia of living under a dictatorship and certainly, it deserves credit for calling out the Nazis and their leaders by name.  At a time when many people were living in denial about what was happening in Europe, this film took a clear and firm stand.  In 1939, the film may have been called “propaganda” but today, it feels like prophecy.  Everything that Hans predicts in this film would come to pass in reality.  The film was a warning that was heeded too late.

Horror On The Lens: The Mad Monster (dir by Sam Newfield)


In the 1942 film, The Mad Monster, the great George Zucco plays Dr. Cameron.  Dr. Cameron is a mad scientist who has a few issues with his colleagues and who makes the decision to deal with those issues by transforming his simple-minded handyman (Glenn Strange, who played Frankenstein’s Monster in a number of Universal films) into a wolfman.

The Mad Monster is one of the many horror films that were produced by Producers Releasing Corporation, which was one of the most poverty-stricken of the poverty row production companies.  To me, the interesting thing about the film is that Cameron initially wants to use his werewolf formula to help in the war effort.  He wants to help the United States win the war by turning soldiers into wolfmen.  It’s only after his plans are dismissed as being ludicrous that he starts using his wolfman to get revenge.  Unfortunately, the wolfman itself turns more savage and bloodthirsty with each act of revenge so I guess it’s a good thing that it wasn’t deployed on the battlefield because who knows what type of state the soldiers would have been in when they finally came home.

Here is 1942’s The Mad Monster!

Western Cyclone (1943, directed by Sam Newfield)


Feeling that the old west has become a dangerous place, law-abiding gunslinger Billy the Kid (Buster Crabbe) fakes a stagecoach robbery and pretends to kidnap the governor’s daughter, all to show him that the west needs more law enforcers.  The governor is so impressed by Billy’s ruse that he agrees to stand tough on crime.  This upsets Dirk Randall (Glenn Strange, who also played Frankenstein’s monster is some of the later Universal horror films), a businessman who has been funding the criminals in order to make the governor look weak so that Randall could defeat him in the next election.

Randall orders one of his men to pull a gun on Billy while Billy is leaving the local saloon.  Billy pulls and fires his own gun in self-defense but it’s Randall who actually kills the man by shooting him in the back and then running off in the confusion.  Because the man was shot in the back, Billy is accused of murder, arrested, and sentenced to death in record time.  With Billy in jail, it falls to his comic relief sidekick, Fuzzy Jones (Al St. John), to prove that Billy didn’t actually fire the shot that killed the man.

By most accounts, Billy the Kid was a nasty piece of work who would kill anyone who look at him in the wrong way but, in the 30s, the character was the hero of a series of 42 Westerns that all featured him as a hero and a valued member of the community.  (Originally, Bob Steele played Billy.  Buster Crabbe took over the role with the seventh film.)  Western Cyclone was the 17th Billy the Kid film and, as long as you’re not a stickler for historical accuracy, it’s an entertaining B-western.  The plot is formulaic but Crabbe was a good hero, Strange was a diabolical villain, and, for once, Al St. John got to play an important role in resolving the film’s story.  Fuzzy Jones did some impressive detective work.  The real Billy the Kid probably could have used someone like Fuzzy in his corner.

Death Rides The Range (1939, directed by Sam Newfield)


In this “modern-day” western, Ken Maynard stars as Ken Baxter. While out camping in the wilderness with his trusty horse Tarzan and his two comic relief sidekicks, Pancho (Julian Rivero) and Panhandle (Ralph Peters), Ken comes across the gravely injured Professor Wahl (Michael Vallon). Wahl is an archeologist who has been left to die. Wahl is too weak to reveal who attacked him and, when Ken gets Wahl back to civilization, he discovers that Wahl’s colleagues, Dr. Flotow (William Castello) and Baron Starkoff (Sven Hugo Bard), aren’t willing to help Wahl unless he shares the location of a helium mine.

Flotow and the Baron are working for “a foreign power” and want to smuggle the helium back to Europe so that their country can use it to fuel their dirigibles. Ken and his sidekicks have to stop the bad guys from getting control of the ranch that sits near the mine. Going undercover, Ken allows himself to be hired by Joe Larkin (Charles King), who is trying to steal the property away from Letty Morgan (Fay McKenzie).  Romance and gunfight follows.  Ken’s horse, Tarzan, saves the day more than once.

The plot of Death Rides the Range is intriguing and, for a 55-minute programmer, complex. Unfortunately, the execution doesn’t allow the story to fulfill its potential. By the time Maynard starred in this film, the once-major cowboy star had alienated most of the major studios and he had a reputation being difficult. He was reduced to working for poverty row studios, like Colony Pictures. Maynard is a convincing hero and his horse, Tarzan, was one of the most talented of the animal actors working at that time but Death Rides The Range still feels rushed.

Death Rides The Range is mostly interesting as an example of the type of anti-German films that were being made before the U.S. officially entered World War II. The film keeps it ambiguous who Flotow and Starkoff are working for but any viewer who had been following the news out of Europe would automatically know they were working for the Germans. Even when he was making movies for Poverty Row, Ken Maynard was still fighting the good fight.