Más muerto que vivo

Clint Walker is just out of prison after 18. He murdered a man and paid the price. Actually, he murdered a dozen, and so his hopes of getting a job, buying a ranch and never strapping on a gun again are futile. Instead, he becomes an attraction in Vincent Price's traveling shooting gallery. Because he hasn't handled a gun in almost two decades, he's slow and has poor aim; Price's assistant, Paul Hampton, is much faster and more accurate, but he has no reputation, and it eats at him.

The closing of the west was a frequent theme of the more ambitious American westerns of the 1960s, and ths is an examle of one; it's not just the west that's closing down, but its myth, of two-fisted fighters who face each other in the street, with only one walking away. This is a lesser example of the subgenre, but it's still good to watch, especially the scenes with Anne Francis as the woman Walker is sweet on, and who returns the feeling.