Despite presence of cowboy vet Randy Scott, this is not really a western. Instead it's a modern adventure tale of gold fever. A bunch of disparate saloon characters goes hunting for buried treasure amid treacherous sand dunes of the Southwest. Each has his own reason for going and his own past, so naturally conflicts develop. And, oh yes, lovely Ella Raines shows up on horseback as relief from the ugly guys. Scott's the most level-headed of the bunch, but he's no paragon— is his willingness to abandon the wounded Johnny because of hard-headed realism or selfish greed.
It's an unusual collection of distinctive Hollywood players, including a shifty Kennedy, a nasty Ireland, a sneaky Collins, and, of course, a jovial Buchanan. Too bad the star-crossed William Bishop died too young to establish a screen persona. And how unexpected for blues singer Josh White to turn up as one of the fortune hunters. His musical interludes may seem artificially inserted but are pleasantly entertaining.
For me there are two highlights. The sandstorm, of course, is really well done-- on a set I would assume, but still a marvelously staged effect. The other is that battle of shovels atop a swirling dune, (move over Japanese martial arts). It's like nothing I've seen. Then too, the location staging in Death Valley may send you out for water, so bring a canteen.
Including flashbacks, the narrative itself is pretty crowded for a 78-minute runtime. So don't expect a tight format. Action and characters tend to be sketched through the proverbial glass darkly. Nonetheless, the movie's an unusual production that's remained oddly memorable since my first viewing, lo, so many years ago.
