Directed by Anthony Mann
Screenplay by Guy Trosper
Produced by Nicholas Nayfack
Cinematography: John Alton
Edited by Conrad A. Nervig
Music by Daniele Amfitheatrof
Cast: Robert Taylor (Lance Poole), Louis Calhern (Verne Coolan), Paula Raymond (Orrie Masters), Marshall Thompson (Rod MacDougall), James Mitchell (Red Rock), Edgar Buchanan (Zeke Carmody), Rhys Williams (Scotty MacDougall), Spring Byington (Mrs. Masters), James Millican (Ike Stapleton)
It’s hard to believe Devil’s Doorway comes from the same MGM that released Father Of The Bride — and in the same year, 1950. It’s a typically tough picture from Anthony Mann, part of his initial shift to Westerns, brining a lot of his noir baggage with him!
20th Century-Fox’s Broken Arrow, a Western with a focus on the Indian perspective, had hit theaters a few months earlier. Devil’s Doorway comes at that same perspective but from a far, far darker place. And it’s all the better for it. (MGM sat on Devil’s Doorway for a while, scared of its subject matter, until they saw the response to the inferior Broken Arrow.)
A Shoshone Indian, Lance Poole (Robert Taylor), comes home after the Civil War a decorated war hero, eager to get back to his family’s ranch. But new laws have declared that Indians cannot own land (or buy a drink in the saloon) — and there are plenty around Medicine Bow eager to get their slick mitts on Poole’s grazing land. As Woody Guthrie sang, “Some will rob you with a six-gun, And some with a fountain pen.”
To make matters worse, the local doctor refuses to treat Poole’s father, who dies. Naturally, the proud Shoshone war hero isn’t one to take things lying down, with tragic results.
So many Westerns blame the plight of the Native Americans on crooks selling them liquor and guns. Here, it’s all the result of greed and prejudice. And when those are the causes — and when there are dirtbags like Verne Coolan (Louis Calhern) and weak lawmen like Zeke Carmody (Edgar Buchanan) calling the shots, we can’t blame Poole for lashing out at the system so clearly stacked against him.
Of course, his relationship with Orrie Masters (Paula Raymond) doesn’t stand a chance.
On paper, Robert Taylor seems like a really odd choice for Poole, but he handles it with ease. From playing an Indian here to an unhinged racist in The Last Hunt (1956), Taylor was terrific whenever he mounted up for a Western. The Law And Jack Wade (1958) is another great one.
Guy Trosper’s screenplay doesn’t pull any punches, and Anthony Mann makes sure everything is delivered with a sledgehammer. You don’t often see a major star of Hollywood’s Golden Era participate in such violence.
John Alton’s camerawork is never short of incredible, from beautiful closeups to breathtaking Colorado exteriors, and it’s a prime reason for snatching up Devil’s Doorway on Blu-Ray. (If I ran things, everything Alton ever touched would only be available in high definition.) Warner Archive has done their typically impeccable work here — the contrast is just right and the audio is loud and punchy.
Devil’s Doorway is the film that made me a Robert Taylor fan, and it deserves just as much attention as Mann’s work with James Stewart has received over the years. It’s a terrific film that helped kick off what we think of as Fifties Westerns. Highly, highly recommended.
50 Westerns From The 50s.