The Law West of Tombstone

Well, Fellini didn't direct this one, but at times it sure seems like it. This is one odd-ball movie, with plotlines that appear out of nowhere and disappear into the same place, character motivations David Lynch couldn't understand, and behavior that sometimes suggests that everyone in the film and everyone who made it was hitting the peyote a little too hard. Harry Carey well plays Bill Barker, and one presumes he is the hero of the piece, though he gets enough undisputed disrespect from respectable characters that sometimes it's hard to know whether he's the moral center or just a none-too-bright gasbag. Tim Holt is good as the Tonto Kid, but everyone else is either not very good or is just mired so deep in the confusion that it's not possible to distinguish their talent. It's almost impossible to disentangle the plotlines, although it's fairly clear that one of them involves Barker's attempts to make a good life for the daughter he never knew. The rest of it is pretty much a jumble, and the confrontations between Barker and the McQuinn gang, and in particular a bizarre game of Russian roulette between Barker and the Tonto Kid simply defy rational explanation. And what in the world was Ward Bond doing in this--not WHY was he in it, but WHAT was he doing? He appears to be channelling his John L. Sullivan character from "Gentleman Jim," funnelled through Pancho Villa. But the purpose and intent of the character are just two of the manifold mysteries of this weird little melange. Just about the strangest thing I've ever seen that wasn't meant to be strange.

Harry Carey plays a combination character in the lead role of The Law West Of Tombstone. He's a quick draw and a deadly shot in the tradition of Wild Bill Hickok and can spin a yarn better than Baron Munchausen. Those talents have served him well in his career in this film and like Judge Roy Bean, he's declared himself the law in the newly forming town of Martinez, Arizona as Mayor and Justice of the Peace.

This was obviously a more ambitious undertaking of a film than what arrived for the movie-going public of 1938. There are whole chunks of this that obviously were left on the cutting room floor and you have to bridge quite a lot to get a coherent story.

Tim Holt plays a young protégé of sorts for Carey, a young outlaw he'd like to see settle down. And Evelyn Brent plays Carey's daughter who doesn't know she's his daughter. But this film is strictly Carey's show. Allan Lane who later was a cowboy hero himself plays a young outlaw who shoots it out with Holt and comes up short and dead.

It's an unusual western and one I'd like to have seen a director's cut of, but that sure isn't likely.

This is a nice old school western. Made back in the day like I used to watch as a child. Thanks for showing it TCM. No super heroes, no special effects, no in your face sex, just a darn good western. Thanks again!

In the late 1930s, every major studio had a B-movie unit. Most of them produced B-westerns. Warner Brothers churned out quick oaters starring singing cowboy Dick Foran; Republic produced titles starring Gene Autry and Roy Goers; Universal had Johnny Mack Brown headline a series of B-westerns; and RKO signed George O'Brien.

One B-western script at RKO was given to Harry Carey instead of George O'Brien. This is probably because the lead character, an old mayor slash judge, fit Mr. Carey's persona better than it did the handsome O'Brien, who played more romantic heroes. THE LAW WEST OF TOMBSTONE has Carey dispensing wisdom and trying to help a hellion played by young Tim Holt, who ironically would unseat O'Brien as RKO's main B-western star in the 1940s.

In the story Holt is an outlaw that Carey wants to help go straight. The background for Carey's character is that he had previously experienced his own scrapes with the law and is now a reformed man the townsfolk of Tombstone look up to...obviously, a personage based on Judge Roy Bean. As for Holt's character, he shares more than a few similarities with Billy the Kid.

Added into the mix is a lovely gal played by Jean Rouverol, whom we might say resembles Calamity Jane. Despite different names being used for the trio, I am sure audiences would've been able to infer which famous figures had inspired these performances and enjoyed watching the tale unfold on screen.

Jean Rouverol was new to the western format, having previously worked in comedies, and she does a nice job here. She portrayed W. C. Fields' daughter in IT'S A GIFT (1934) a few years earlier at Paramount, and had a supporting role in RKO's ensemble drama about theater hopefuls, STAGE DOOR (1938). I should add that Miss Rouverol was the daughter of Aurania Rouverol, who created the Andy Hardy series for MGM.

Jean Rouverol would marry screenwriter Hugo Butler, who became blacklisted. She later wrote a book about their time abroad during the McCarthy era called 'Refugees from Hollywood.' She was one of the most influential professors I studied under at the University of Southern California. She taught me about the long-term effects of the blacklist, and a considerable deal about writing since her acting career ended up taking a backseat to her career as a writer for film and television.

As for Harry Carey, he had a long and varied career, going back to silent features in Hollywood. By this stage of the game, he typically was assigned supporting parts. So it's rather nice to see him have a lead role in a picture such as this one. He gives a somewhat grounded performance in a story populated by quirky and memorable western types. Most notable is his interaction with Evelyn Brent, as a gal who catches his eye.

There are some horses on dusty trails, cattle and shots fired. But this has little use for rustic scenery, stunts, boulders, stagecoach robberies, ranchers, gold mines and grifting frontier bankers of a B Western. This is urban, for adults, with a train robbery, politics, sex, comedy, iambic pentameter, relationships, surreal twists and the Western storytelling of Carey, Sr. Youthful Holt stirs the drink as he would in Ambersons and Sierra Madre and in his career. Like a B movie this pays less attention to acting, lighting, production values as might a Curtiz, but it has respectable photography and sound with a clear print. Ward Bond, always a star in any role, delivers a memorable cameo. Native Americans here are at least presented with authentic costuming and intelligence, if comedically, not as inarticulate enemies.