Tristram Coffin Movies

The Man Betrayed in this Republic actioner is hero Eddie Nugent, though this doesn't occur until the film is half over. Framed for a murder he didn't commit, Nugent finds support from an unlikely corner: a group of crooks, led by John Wray, set about to prove the boy's innocence. All of this meets with the benign approval of clergyman Lloyd Hughes, whose beatific good influence turns out to be contagious. Evidently intended to be longer than its present 58 minutes, Man Betrayed contains several gaping plot and continuity holes, the result of what seems to have been ruthless wholesale editing. The film makes even less sense on TV, where it was pared down to 53 minutes -- and then, to accommodate extra commercials, was whittled down further to 48 minutes (whew)! ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Robert Emmett Tansey, production supervisor and head writer on Monogram's Jack Randall Westerns, had the gall this time around to outright plagiarize John Ford's newly released Stagecoach (1939). Like John Wayne in Ford's masterpiece, Jack Randall found himself boarding a stagecoach after having his horse shot out from under him. The coach is already occupied by Mary, a saloon belle (Jean Joyce, aka Claire Rochelle), a whiskey salesman (George Cleveland), and Duke (Dennis Moore), an outlaw. By the time Jack and the passengers arrive in town, Tansey mercifully stops imitating Ford long enough to craft a none too spectacular story of Randall attempting to persuade Miss Joyce from working for Polini (Tristram Coffin, sporting the worst "foreign" accent this side of Buck Jones), whom he suspects of heading a counterfeiting ring. As it turns out, both Mary and the whiskey salesman are undercover agents and the greedy Polini is turned over to a gang of Indians, one of whom he once murdered. No one apparently complained about Tansey plagiarizing John Ford (not to mention screenwriter Dudley Nichols) and Overland Mail was dismissed as just another low-budget Western released on the lower half of double bills. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

After several dismal Westerns, Tex Ritter found a winner in Arizona Frontier, which was filmed in glorious locations near Prescott, Arizona. Ritter played Tex Whitedeer, a white boy reared by the Indian Grey Cloud (real-life native American sports legend Jim Thorpe). Tex's ancestry becomes an issue when as an agent for the government he is charged with deciding where the East and West branches of the railroad shall meet. Joe Lane's (Hal Price) freight company is being raided by what appears to be Indians, but Tex suspects the criminals to be white men in disguise. He is soon falsely accused by a rival army lieutenant (John Merton) of leading the marauders himself. Further investigation, however, discloses that the raiders are indeed a gang of white villains headed by Graham (Tristram Coffin), who is ultimately caught by Ritter and Grey Cloud's Indian braves. Despite his fame as an athlete, Jim Thorpe was sadly misused by Hollywood who usually saw him only in stereotypical terms. Thorpe's personal friendship with Ritter landed him the role of Grey Cloud in Arizona Frontier and he gave what was perhaps his best performance. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

Filmed at Palmdale, California, this Tex Ritter Western continued a recent trend of limiting Ritter's trademark music numbers in favor of rather ill staged fisticuffs and other action scenes. Ritter, who was never very lucky with his ever changing comic sidekicks, was here saddled with one Frank Mitchell, a New Yorker visibly ill at ease on the celluloid range. Tex and Shorty (Mitchell) ride into Cinco Valley, a gold rich area terrorized by marauders ostensibly lead by one Pablo (Martin Garralaga). Tex, however, recognizes Blackie (Earl Douglas), whose boss is Bannister (Warner Richmond), an American. Suspecting that Bannister and his henchmen are trying to drive the settlers off their potentially valuable land by posing as Mexican banditos, Tex convinces Pablo to help him set a trap for the marauders. Despite a couple of misunderstandings along the way, Tex, Pablo and Shorty gather enough evidence to convict Bannister.Tall, rangy musician Slim Andrews, aka Arkansas Slim, made his screen debut in this film. A personal friend of the star, Andrews was to appear in the next nine Ritter Westerns, sometimes as his comedy relief. Unfortunately, Arkansas Slim was as unfunny as Ritter's previous sidekicks and the series didn't exactly prosper from his participation. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

No sooner had the second of Monogram's "Range Riders" westerns hit the screens than the third entry, West of Pinto Basin, was prepared for release. Once again, the Range Riders are portrayed by Ray "Crash" Corrigan, John "Dusty" King and Max "Alibi" Terhune, who this time are hot on the trail of a stagecoach holdup gang. Outlaw leader Harvey (Tris Coffin) is able to monitor the routes taken by the local stage line thanks to a "fifth columnist" named Summers (Phil Dunham), an outwardly honest bank employee. The three heroes take jobs as stagecoach drivers to bring the villains out into the open. The romantic interest is handled by Gwen Gaze, previously a minor-league serial heroine. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The Fatal Hour was the fourth entry in Monogram's "Mr. Wong" series, based on the gentlemanly oriental detective created by Hugh Wiley. Boris Karloff returns as Wong, supported by Grant Withers as dyspeptic police captain Street and Marjorie Reynolds as brash gal reporter Bobbie Logan. On this occasion, Mr. Wong investigates the murder of a police officer, nearly ending up murdered himself during a climactic jewelry-store robbery. The principal suspect is Belden (Craig Reynolds), the son of a crooked businessman (John Hamilton) whose perfidy has apparently caused all the trouble in the first place. The Fatal Hour was scripted by Joseph West, a pseudonym for director George Waggner (who didn't direct this one). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The dangers of the dread venereal disease syphilis are depicted in this earnest drama from the 1940s. The story centers upon an intrepid health commissioner who is out to get rid of the tawdry hookers responsible for spreading the disease. He is assisted by a reporter. In a different subplot a young philanderer contracts the disease and gives it to his pregnant wife. Later a rotten doctor claims that he is cured, but it is not so and the young man returns, picks a fight, and accidentally kills the doctor. Later the young fellow is persuaded into giving his reasons for the killing; he does, and his name is cleared. At the same time, the reporter and health commissioner have fallen in love, and the town council finally gives the go ahead for the commissioner to clean up the streets. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

The curious but harmonious screen team of Frankie Darro and Mantan Moreland are back again in You're Out of Luck. Elevator boy Frankie (Darro) is the brother of a detective (Richard Bond), and as such is eager to solve a crime himself. He gets his chance when a couple of mob murders occur in Frankie's hotel. With the tremulous assistance of Jefferson the porter (Moreland), Frankie pieces the clues together long before the police do-thereby flattening the stock of an obnoxious newspaper reporter (Tristam Coffin). Moreland so dominates the proceedings with his patented "Feet do your duty" routines that, in certain communities with heavily black populations, he was billed as the film's star. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Monogram Pictures launched its lucrative "Rough Riders" western series with 1941's Arizona Bound. Producer Scott Dunlap hoped to attract new customers by teaming two of the most popular cowboy stars in the movies, Buck Jones and Tim McCoy, throwing in another old favorite, Raymond Hatton, as grizzled comedy relief (ironically, Hatton was actually younger than his two costars!) The first entry set the pattern of all the "Rough Riders" entries to follow: Apparently retired, gunslinger Buck Roberts (Buck Jones) is galvanized into action when an old friend asks him to help rid Mesa City of a scurrilous outlaw gang. Upon his arrival, Buck makes the acquaintance of local parson Tim McCall (McCoy) and itinerant ranchhand Sandy Hopkins (Hatton). It soon becomes obvious that Buck, Tim and Sandy have been working together all along, with Roberts doing most of the shootin' and fightin' while Tim and Sandy operate undercover and undetected. Their job finally done, our three heroes bid farewell to one another and go their separate ways, with the promise that they'll join up again whenever its becomes necessary. Though it seldom deviated from this basic formula, the "Rough Riders" series was a hit, and remained so until Buck Jones' untimely death in 1942. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The "Rough Riders"-Buck Jones, Tim McCoy and Raymond Hatton-are back in the saddle in Forbidden Trails. As was customary, the stars play three wildly diverse types who are apparently strangers to one another when the film begins. In this instance, Buck Roberts (Jones) is a dude gambler, Tim McCall (McCoy) is head driver for a stagecoach line, and Sandy Hopkins (Hatton) is a desert rat who's apparently in cahoots with a pair of escaped outlaws. By Reel Four, however, it is obvious that Buck, Tim and Sandy are secretly working together to thwart the villains. In the film's most exciting scene, Buck is trapped in a burning shack while a contingent of well-armed bandits block his escape. Future "Three Stooges" heroine Christine McIntyre is the leading lady on this occasion. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Despite the typical Monogram drawbacks -- murky photography, stolid staging, ramshackle sets -- The Corpse Vanishes remains one of the more deliciously outrageous horror exercises of the 1940s. Bela Lugosi, as hammy as ever, stars as Dr. Lorenz, a European horticulturist whose octogenarian wife (Elizabeth Russell) needs fluids from the glands of young virgins to remain forever young and beautiful. Jumping to conclusions, the insane medico's rationale seems to be that the best place to find a virgin is at the altar. Consequently, seven young women are in short order poisoned by a mysterious orchid just before their "I do's" and brought in a catatonic state to Dr. Lorenz' mansion in Brookdale. Cub reporter Pat Hunter (Luana Walters) is on to the scheme and visits the Lorenz estate under the pretense of researching an article on orchids. With a typical sound-stage storm brewing up, she agrees to spend the night, and what a night it proves to be. Not only is poor Pat awakened by a visit from Dr. Lorenz' slobbering, hunchbacked helper, Angel (Frank Moran, who stalks her while eating a drumstick), the reporter is also slapped in the face by the disagreeable countess, snubbed by a nasty dwarf (Angelo Rossitto), and nearly suffers the same fate as the poor brides when rescued in the nick of time by an enraged housekeeper (Minerva Urecal) and her boyfriend, Dr. Foster (Tristram Coffin). ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

The Rough Riders--Buck Jones, Raymond Hatton and Rex Bell--endeavor to provide a wagon train safe passage through Indian country. With Jones heading the caravan and Bell and Hatton working undercover, the threesome discover that the "savages" planning to attack the settlers are actually renegade whites. The criminals' target is the shipment of railroad supplies being carried in one of the wagons. Normally, the third "Rough Rider" would have been played by Colonel Tim McCoy, but when McCoy was called to active duty in World War II, he was hastily replaced by old-time western star Rex Bell. Dawn on the Great Divide was the last film for Buck Jones, who was killed in the infamous Coconut Grove fire shortly before the film was released. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

"Wild" Bill Elliot is the star of Prairie Gunsmoke. This time Elliot is paired with Tex Ritter, both of whom prove the bane of the bad guys' existence. It's fun to watch Ritter swing into action the moment he finishes singing, though Elliot may not have been overly pleased at sharing the spotlight. The leading lady is Virginia Carroll, one of Hollywood's best horsewomen. Prairie Gunsmoke was Elliot's final Columbia release for the 1941-42 season. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi