Desert Fury

Desert Fury, 1947, Director, Lewis Allen Viewed at Noir City festival, Seattle, 2007. In "Desert Fury" which is shot in spectacular Paramount technicolor in a desert town somewhere near Las Vegas and introduces Burt Lancaster as the lantern jawed no-nonsense town sheriff, Liz Scott, the duchess of noir, is, well - sumthin' else! First of all she lives with her mother (Mary Astor of Maltese Falcon fame) but is this really her mother ? (it turns out not, if you actually concentrate on the plot) - or her older Butch lover? We'll never quite know except for that kiss on the mouth at the end as Mary gives Liz and Burt her blessing on the bridge where Liz's real mother was killed somewhere in the dark lurid past. Then there's this odd couple, notorious big time gambler John Hodiak (very hoaky, to say the least) for whom Liz falls at first bite much to mother's discontent, and his long-term live-in side-kick, Wendell Corey (film debut), who is so possessive about Hodiak that we might just begin to wonder what's been keeping them together all these years - other than partnership in crime. Eddie Muller, the Czar of Noir, calls this the "gayest film noir ever" and he may have something there, but sexual preferences, implied or expressed, aside, this is one helluvan enjoyable ride through the desert, in a real wood sided four-door Chrysler Town-and-Country convertible yet! A shaky plot is no great hindrance as the primo colorful cast and kinky characters are so much fun to watch. As for the debut of Lancaster, most 'reliable sources' list "The Killers" (1947) as his first film, but Muller points out that "Desert Fury" was actually shot earlier, although it was, for whatever reasons, released later. Thus, this is really the first film Burt ever acted in, and, no doubt about it, immediately demonstrated star quality. However, since he was already an overnight star from "Killers", when "Fury" was released soon afterwards he received top billing, his name appearing in the opening credits on the same screen with Mary Astor, Liz Scot and John, Hodiak. Amazing that Liz Scott with her platinum blonde mane, dazzling good looks, and sizzling personality never quite became a top star, but in her numerous noirs, like this one, she blazes with nothing but star quality. Enough to light up the darkest of scenes.

Liz Scott glows in a lurid all star desert noir with less than subtle streaks of gay.Q

The main town used in this movie is Cottonwood AZ, I know because I live here. My husbands family are pioneers of Sedona and the Verde Vally area. Cottonwood is about bout 5 minutes from where the bridge scene was used at (Tuziegoot)filming was actually at lower Clarkdale area by the Verde River. The Jail, Drugstore, main street, Purple Sage(was Rusty's Bar in old town Cottonwood, in fact Rusty changed the name of his bar to the Purple sage after that movie was filmed there). Scenes of the ranch and out on the roads are at West Sedona, and Big Park by Sedona. We also have a street named Chuckawalla because of this movie. It's really amazing to see what it looked like compared to now days. They give historical tours in old town and Desert Fury is on their pamphlet. It was a big bootlegging town in the prohibition days that made it so popular. Cottonwood was called "the biggest little city in Arizona".

This is one of the only examples of film noir in color. Burt Lancaster and luscious Lizabeth Scott headline a stellar cast in this twisted romance/thriller. John Hodiak and Wendell Corey's "special" is sorely tested when Hodiak falls hard for bombshell Scott. Scott's mother Fritzi (played by hard as nails Mary Astor) tries to protect her "baby" from falling into the wrong hands (namely Hodiak's) while good guy Lancaster valiantly attempts to rid the town of no-goodniks like Hodiak, Corey and sometimes Astor. It's a two-fisted Technicolor knockout of a film and a classic example of late 40's "adult" fare. See it with somebody you lust after.

Back in the forties, when movies touched on matters not yet admissible in "polite" society, they resorted to codes which supposedly floated over the heads of most of the audience while alerting those in the know to just what was up. Probably no film of the decade was so freighted with innuendo as the oddly obscure Desert Fury, set in a small gambling oasis called Chuckawalla somewhere in the California desert. Proprietress of the Purple Sage saloon and casino is the astonishing Mary Astor, in slacks and sporting a cigarette holder; into town drives her handful-of-a-daughter, Lizabeth Scott, looking, in Technicolor, like 20-million bucks. But listen to the dialogue between them, which suggests an older Lesbian and her young, restless companion (one can only wonder if A.I. Bezzerides' original script made this relationship explicit). Even more blatant are John Hodiak as a gangster and Wendell Corey as his insanely jealous torpedo. Add Burt Lancaster as the town sheriff, stir, and sit back. Both Lancaster and (surprisingly) Hodiak fall for Scott. It seems, however, that Hodiak not only has a past with Astor, but had a wife who died under suspicious circumstances. The desert sun heats these ingredients up to a hard boil, with face-slappings aplenty and empurpled exchanges. Don't pass up this hothouse melodrama, chock full of creepily exotic blooms, if it comes your way; it's a remarkable movie.

Desert Fury is directed by Lewis Allen and adapted to screenplay by A.I. Bezzerides and Robert Rossen from the novel Desert Town written by Ramona Stewart. It stars Lizabeth Scott, John Hodiak, Mary Astor, Burt Lancaster and Wendell Corey. Music is by Miklós Rózsa and cinematography by Edward Cronjager and Charles Lang.

My my, what do we have here then? Desert Fury is a sort of collage of film noir and melodramatic shenanigans played out in splendid Technicolor saturation and set in amongst spanking vistas. Plot in short form finds Scott as Paula Haller, a late teenager who has quit school and returned to Chuckawalla in Nevada. There her mother, Fritzi (Astor), runs the town casino and has powerful friends. Coinciding with Paula's arrival is that of Eddie Bendix (Hodiak), a one time Chuckawalla racketeer who left town under a cloud when his wife was killed in an accident. Town copper Tom Hanson (Lancaster) has the hots for Paula, so when Paula gets the hots for Bendix he is not best pleased - and neither is the mighty Fritzi nor Bendix's "live in chum" Johnny Ryan (Corey).

Pic is absolutely pungent with psychosexual tension, where lead character's sexual orientation is purposely murky for devilish story strand dangles. Dialogue is often noirishly brisk, ripe with innuendo, all as dark secrets and past revelations boil over into glorious character histrionics. Though the powder keg of frustrated human beings is simple in plot structure here, these characters are rather fascinating, there's quite a bit going on beneath the catty and machismo veneers. Past mistakes and missed opportunities hang heavy, the search for more in life also. The reoccurring theme of the bridge that book ends the story is a structure that is either impossible to cross to freedom, or conversely a route back to the safe haven of Chuckawalla. Road to nowhere?

It's not a great movie exactly, it has evident flaws for sure. Hodiak is a touch unconvincing as a heavy mob like dude, a bit too by the numbers, which is a shame because he was often great in noir styled pics (see Somewhere in the Night for example). Now I don't have a problem with Scott, a poor woman's Lauren Bacall she may well be, but some of the scorn she receives is unfair. She's hard to accept as a late teenager here though, especially with her husky voice and delivery of ripe lines belying her supposed youthfulness. Lancaster was at the start of his film career and is utterly wasted, which when it comes alongside his work at this time in The Killers and Brute Force is even more unforgivable. But to offset the acting missteps there's Mary and Wendell...

Astor is on fire, playing a battle axe domineering mother with obvious sexual kinks and life hang-ups, she is both moving and edgily scary. Yet even she is trumped by Corey, in what is his film debut he brings Johnny Ryan to vivid life. Ryan is a ball of man love fire, with a clinical jealousy simmering away, you just know he has it in him to kill should the need arise. Lewis Allen rightly has a mixed reputation, and his bad trait of sinking into melodrama when not required is evident here, but he brings out frothy turns from his principal players. Two excellent cinematographers on show here, both Cronjager (I Wake Up Screaming) and Lang (The Big Heat) delight in using the Technicolor for snazzy sheen value, while the locales in their hands are a sight for sore eyes. Rózsa has done better compositions in his sleep, but his searing strings fit the tone of plotting superbly.

I loved this, in the way I love Johnny Guitar and Slightly Scarlet. Hardly a genius piece of work or a pic that everyone simply must see, but for those who like noir, Westerns or mellers with bends and kinks, then this you should enjoy. 7.5/10