In Technicolor and starring Bob Hope this story could have been hilarious if played for laughs; instead we get an extremely earnest black & white psychological western starring a 'serious' Frank Sinatra, with an appropriately moody score by Sinatra's regular arranger Nelson Riddle.
Considering that he produced the film himself, Sinatra has strangely elected to play a complete louse in the title role. Johnny is with good reason hated by the entire town of Cripple Creek, with the inexplicable exception of Phyllis Kirk (added to the script presumably to make us give a damn whether he lived or died). Moral salvation comes in the form of William Conrad and Keenan Wynn; the former is the one gunfighter even meaner and deadlier than Sinatra's late brother Red Concho, the latter an absolute blast in a late-appearing cameo as a macho gun-toting preacher who pep talks Johnny into finally finding his mojo.
As the film was building up to the usual town square shoot-out, I was thinking to myself that now would be a good moment for the assembled townfolk to shoot Conrad while his attention was on Sinatra, when - ah, but that would be telling...! Despite being such a dead shot and with so little concern for human life, with his first shot Conrad naturally only wounds Sinatra by shooting him in the shoulder; if it had been other member of the cast than the star he would have been instantly dispatched to Boot Hill for the rest of eternity.
Considering that he produced the film himself, Sinatra has strangely elected to play a complete louse in the title role. Johnny is with good reason hated by the entire town of Cripple Creek, with the inexplicable exception of Phyllis Kirk (added to the script presumably to make us give a damn whether he lived or died). Moral salvation comes in the form of William Conrad and Keenan Wynn; the former is the one gunfighter even meaner and deadlier than Sinatra's late brother Red Concho, the latter an absolute blast in a late-appearing cameo as a macho gun-toting preacher who pep talks Johnny into finally finding his mojo.
As the film was building up to the usual town square shoot-out, I was thinking to myself that now would be a good moment for the assembled townfolk to shoot Conrad while his attention was on Sinatra, when - ah, but that would be telling...! Despite being such a dead shot and with so little concern for human life, with his first shot Conrad naturally only wounds Sinatra by shooting him in the shoulder; if it had been other member of the cast than the star he would have been instantly dispatched to Boot Hill for the rest of eternity.