Harry S. Webb Movies

Pete Kelly's Blues is arguably the most stylish of director/star Jack Webb's theatrical features. Beginning with a brilliantly evocative pre-credits prologue, wherein we see how WWI vet Pete Kelly (Webb) came into possession of his precious trumpet, the film traces Kelly to his 1927 gig at a Kansas City speakeasy. Most of the film concerns Kelly's efforts to keep his "Big Seven" aggregation together, his off-and-on romance with socialite Ivy Conrad (Janet Leigh), and his frequent confrontations with mob boss Fran McCarg (Edmond O'Brien). The Richard L. Breen screenplay is full of the deliciously hyperbolic allusions, similes, and metaphors that characterized Webb's radio version of Pete Kelly's Blues, while the musical score is graced by the jazz artistry of such greats as Ella Fitzgerald and Teddy Buckner. Peggy Lee, cast as a mob mistress who is rendered an imbecile after falling down a flight of stars, deservedly earned an Academy Award nomination for her performance. Likewise superb is Andy Devine, cast against type as a corrupt, brutal Kansas City detective, and Lee Marvin as Kelly's best pal. Disney art director Harper Goff, who'd been performing miracles on Webb's TV series Dragnet, brilliantly sustains the smoky zeitgeist of the Prohibition era. Pete Kelly's Blues was later spun off into a TV series starring William Reynolds as Kelly. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Returning to its original format of incorporating music numbers into a Western setting, this otherwise below-par Jack Randall series entry featured former hillbilly singer turned supporting actor Glenn Strange joining Randall in a rendition of "Carol, Pride of the Valley" (composer unknown). The song was arguably the highlight of an all too commonplace B-Western about a cowboy buying himself a spread on the Mexican border only to discover that his property is used by a gang of smugglers. The leader of the smugglers, George Chesebro, is in cahoots with a crooked cattle dealer (Steve Clark) but their schemes are brought to a screeching halt by Jack and his sidekick, Manny (Strange). The latter apparently took over the role from an indisposed Frank Yaconelli, while Mrs. Randall, Louise Stanley, supplied the romantic interest as the aforementioned Carol. Jack Perrin, a star of silent Westerns, turned up in Land of the Six Guns as an unbilled henchman. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

In his final Western for Poverty Row's Metropolitan Pictures, Bob Steele played Bob Hall, a lawman looking into a series of cattle rustlings. The leader of the rustlers, rancher Farley (Ted Adams), hires killer Pete Childers (George Cheseboro) to impersonate a deputy sheriff and gain Sheriff Hall's confidence. The ploy fails and after freeing lovely Helen Jones (Louise Stanley) and her wayward brother, Fred (Kenne Duncan), Sheriff Hall rounds up the gang. Metropolitan Pictures was so ramshackle an outfit that Bob Steele's next employer, the otherwise ill-reputed PRC, seemed almost luxurious in comparison. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

In this his penultimate Western for low-budget company Monogram, Jack Randall assumed the identity of a murdered ranger in order to track down the killer. In the lawless town of Brimstone, the citizens are being terrorized by a gang of outlaws headed by Mason (Tom London), who, to no one's great surprise, proves to be the very man Jack has been trailing. The relieved citizens of Brimstone then elect Jack as their new sheriff. The murdered ranger's sister was played by Margaret Roach, the 19-year-old daughter of comedy producer Hal Roach. Ernie Adams replaced Glenn Strange (who himself had replaced Frank Yaconelli) as Randall's sidekick, Manny, and Nelson McDowell provided additional comic relief as Brimstone's busy undertaker. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

Jack Randall, a truly minor singing cowboy, stars in this low-budget oater from Metropolitan Pictures. Jack Rowan (Randall) discovers that his newly purchased land is being used as a pipeline to smuggle cattle across the border from Mexico. Caught in the act, so to speak, one of the rustlers, Taylor (George Cheseboro), names Jack as his boss but pretty shopkeeper, Carole Howard (Louise Stanley), manages to warn the innocent ranger who flees along with faithful ranch hand Manny (Glenn Strange). Trailing Taylor to his hideout, Jack and Manny finally force the rustler to reveal his true boss, cattle dealer Frank Stone (Steve Clark). Randall and leading lady Louise Stanley were husband-and-wife at the time. The former performs "Carol, Pride of the Valley." ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

Released the same week as Republic's Covered Wagon Days, Monogram's Covered Wagon Trails bears no resemblance to the first-mentioned film, either in terms of plot or quality. Jack Randall plays a heroic westerner who tries to prevent an outlaw gang from interfering with a group of farmers who've pitched camp in the open range. The local cattlemen's association dispatches the crooks to decimate the farmers, something that won't happen so long as Randall has his wits about him. The film's high point (in a manner of speaking) finds Randall, bound hand and foot, gnawing through his ropes as though he were downing an expensive meal. Not surprisingly, Jack Randall's starring career came to an end shortly after the release of Covered Wagon Trails. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The first of eight Bob Steele Westerns from Gower Gulch producer Harry S. Webb's Metropolitan Pictures Corp., Feud of the Range had been filmed as The Kanab Kid in Kanab, UT, in the fall of 1938. An ignominious beginning of an justly infamous series, the Western starred the diminutive Steele as a cowboy returning to the old homestead along with his pal, Happy (Budd Buster). They arrive in the middle of a range war that ultimately separates father and son. But as Bob quickly learns, the troubles are caused by greedy Clyde Barton (Jack Ingram), who is hoping to drive the local ranchers off their valuable land. A rough hewn affair that depended too much on stock footage, Feud of the Range was further handicapped by the amateurish performance of its nominal leading lady, former child actress Gertrude Messinger, who, for most of the duration, had eyes only for villain Jack Ingram. The series proved the nadir for the veteran Steele, who next starred for yet another Poverty Row company, the much derided PRC. Coming from Metropolitan, however, even PRC was actually a step up. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

The fifth of eight Metropolitan Bob Steele B-Westerns, The Pal From Texas featured the diminutive screen cowboy attempting to prevent old prospector pal (Josef Swickard) from being swindled by an unscrupulous tavern owner (Ted Adams). When the friend, Texas, is found murdered, suspicion immediately falls on Bob. Even Texas' niece, Alice (Claire Rochelle), believes Bob to be the killer. With the sheriff (Jack Perrin) and his posse close behind, Bob manages to unearth enough evidence to convict the tavern owner and his gang of racketeering and murder. With his innocence firmly established, Bob proposes to Alice. A blond starlet who often portrayed brassy dames, Claire Rochelle was Bob Steele's leading lady in four Westerns from 1937-1939. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

The fourth of eight ramshackle Bob Steele oaters ground out by Metropolitan Pictures 1939-1940, Riders of the Sage joined the growing list of B-Westerns dealing with the cattle rancher vs. homesteader problem. The site of the trouble this time is Apache Basin, into which rides innocent Bob Burke (Steele). Bob soon joins the forces of homesteader Jim Martin, whose son, Tom (Dave O'Brien), has been kidnapped by the nasty Halsey brothers: Luke (Carleton Young) and Hank (Earl Douglas). With the help of Poe Powers (Ted Adams), a Robin Hood-like masked outlaw and the leader of the legendary "Riders of the Sage," Bob gets the goods on the Halseys and peace is soon restored. Despite the always welcome sight of Steele, Dave O'Brien, and leading lady Claire Rochelle (as the Halseys' rebellious sister), Riders of the Sage was soundly defeated by producer/director Harry S. Webb's slipshod production methods. As he had in the previous Steele entry, Mesquite Buckaroo (1939), villain Carleton Young billed himself as Gordon Roberts. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

The third of eight Bob Steele Westerns produced by bargain-basement company Metropolitan, Mesquite Buckaroo was a slight improvement over its predecessor, due mainly to a couple of campfire songs penned by Johnny Lange and Lew Porter and warbled by the now forgotten Bruce Dane. The diminutive Steele plays Bob Allen of the Bar A Ranch, whose Aunt Sarah (Juanita Fletcher) bets her neighbor (Frank LaRue) that Bob will win the rodeo against the Circle B's Luke Williams (Ted Adams). Realizing they can make a fortune if the reigning champion, Bob, loses, a couple of crooks indulge in a bit of kidnapping. About to be disqualified for tardiness, Bob, who has overpowered his captors, arrives just in time to beat the competition. This lightweight, potentially amusing bit of Western frivolity was thoroughly defeated by Metropolitan Pictures' slipshod production methods and the casting of amateurs (leading lady Carolyn Curtis, especially) in key roles. As he had in Steele's previous effort, Smoky Trails (1939), Carleton Young once again ably took care of the skullduggery, this time for some reason billing himself as Gordon Roberts. Veteran slapstick comic Snub Pollard added little to the overall enjoyment of Mesquite Buckaroo. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

Tom Tyler ground out 19 starring westerns for Reliable Pictures in the mid-1930s, of which Santa Fe Bound is neither the best nor worst. "Our Tom" (as he was known in the trade papers) comes to the aid of heroine Molly Bates (Jeanne Martel), who is in danger of losing her ranch to the villains. Since the chief heavy is played by Richard Cramer, possessor of one of the meanest faces in the movies, it's obvious that Tyler really has his work cut out for him this time. In addition, our hero has been entrusted with a great deal of money by Bate's banker father, a fact that leads the girl to assume that Tyler has stolen the cash. This turns out to be a blessing in disguise when Tyler, posing as an outlaw, infiltrates Cramer's criminal gang. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Bottom-of-the-barrel Western filmmaking on all fronts -- save perhaps hero Tom Tyler's usual competent performance and a restrained sidekick turn by Al St. John -- Pinto Rustlers was directed by Reliable producer Harry S. Webb under the pseudonym of Henri Samuels. Tyler plays Tom Evans, a young cowboy seeking to avenge the murder of his father by a notorious gang of rustlers. Badgering police inspector William Gould into deputizing him, Evans goes undercover as Tom Dawson, a wanted outlaw, and is quickly invited to join the rustlers. The gang is headed by Nick Furnicky (George Walsh), a bandit sporting an indeterminate accent, but the film's real villain is Bud Walton (Earl Dwire), the crooked head of the local cattlemen's association, who has his brother (Murdock MacQuarrie) kidnapped in an attempt to prevent the disclosure of his own dirty deeds. Badly directed, atrociously acted by a cast of veterans that should have known better, and featuring some of the weakest fight scenes in B-Western history, Pinto Rustlers only comes to life at the very end when the gang leader quite literally has the rug pulled from under him. Sadly, this meandering Western marked a rather less than glorious ending to the career of George Walsh, the brother of director Raoul Walsh and a major Fox star in the 1920s. Walsh, who had always traded on physique rather than acting capabilities, had become quite heavy by 1936 and could only find employment in Gower Gulch. Following Pinto Rustlers and Rio Grande Romance (which, despite the title, was a crook melodrama), even those offers dried up. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide