Barbara Woodell Movies

Disney's Westward Ho, the Wagons is a leisurely paced western which seems more like a collection of anecdotes than a unified whole. Fess "Davy Crockett" Parker stars as head wagon scout Doc Grayson, who shepherds a group of travellers through hostile Indian territory. Preferring to use brains rather than bullets, Grayson is able to ward off an Indian attack through a clever--if costly--diversion. A later crisis is averted when Doc, an amateur physician (hence his nickname), saves the life of a seriously injured chief's son. The action highlights are superbly staged by Yakima Canutt, though not quite as exciting as they should be. Kathleen Crowley costars as Doc's erstwhile sweetheart Laura, while George Reeves, his face obscured by a full beard, makes an effective break from his Superman image as wagon leader James Stephen. The fact that Westward Ho, the Wagons featuerd several of Disney's Mouseketeers (Karen Pendleton, Cubby O'Brien, Doreen Tracy, Tommy Cole) in the supporting cast was plugged to death on TV's Mickey Mouse Club, as was the film's hit song "Wringle, Wrangle". ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

One of the best of the High Noon derivations, At Gunpoint is the story of reluctant hero Fred MacMurray. When a band of gunmen invade a small frontier town, storekeeper MacMurray fires off a lucky shot and kills the leader. Hailed as a hero, MacMurray realizes deep down that he's a coward. When the surviving gunmen return to town, thirsting for revenge, the townsfolk expect MacMurray to singlehandedly stand up to the villains. When he asks for help, his neighbors turn their backs on him, ordering him to get out of town to avoid further trouble. Only doctor Walter Brennan and MacMurray's wife Dorothy Malone remain loyal. Facing certain death,MacMurray discovers that he's not as yellow as he thought he was-a revelation that brings about a change in the rest of the town. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Next to Slightly Scarlet, Silver Lode is the best of the many 1950s collaborations between producer Benedict Bogaeus and director Allan Dwan. Clearly inspired by High Noon, the story covers three hours in the lives of a group of westerners. As the townsfolk prepare for the Fourth of July celebration, stranger Dan Duryea rides into view, followed by three tough-looking hombres. Duryea claims to be as US marshal, and further claims that he has a warrant for the arrest of the town popular sheriff, John Payne. A few hours away from his marriage to Lizabeth Scott, Payne assumes that no one will believe the troublemaking Duryea, and that his spotless record will speak for itself. But since it is impossible to confirm or deny Duryea's allegations, the seeds of doubt are planted in the minds of the townspeople, and before long virtually all of Payne's "friends" have turned against him. It soon becomes clear to the movie audience that Duryea is lying, especially after he guns down one of his own men. But Duryea is able to pin the blame of the killing on Payne, and in a twinkling the sheriff is a hunted man. The only person willing to give Payne the benefit of the doubt is town trollop Dolores Moran (Mrs. Benedict Bogeaus), who hides the sheriff while telegrapher Frank Sully tries to find out if Duryea is telling the truth. Building slowly and methodically to a slam-bang climax, Silver Lode is an above-average psychological western--and, like many "guilt by supsicion" films of the 1950s, a thinly veiled attack on McCarthyism. Best line: when Duryea bursts into Dolores' boudoir to see if Payne is hiding under the bed, she moans "Oh, what is this? A French farce?" ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Dreamboat stars Clifton Webb as Thornton Sayre, the perfectionist professor of literature at a sedate Midwestern university. Widowed and with a pretty daughter (Anne Francis), Sayre has given no clue to his previous life before becoming a teacher. But thanks to television, everyone discovers that Sayre is actually Bruce Blair, a former silent screen star known as "America's Dreamboat." Sayre's onetime leading lady (Ginger Rogers) has made a comeback hosting screenings of her old films on TV, and the result is acute embarrassment for both the professor and his college. Sayre takes the case all the way to court, where he wangles a compromise agreement: he will permit his films to be televised as long as they're not "doctored" to accommodate commercial endorsements (this was based on a real-life lawsuit involving cowboy Gene Autry -- which Autry lost). The ensuing publicity costs Sayre his college job, but the renewal of interest in his old films results in a new movie contract. Although silent movies and singing commercials are easy satirical targets, Dreamboat still delivers the laughs, and it's fun to see Clifton Webb camping it up as a "Doug Fairbanks" type. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Whip Wilson only gets to crack his trademark weapon once in this economic Western filmed in toto at the Iverson Movie Ranch in Chatsworth, CA. A government agent, Wilson arrives in the near ghost town of Tunis, where his friend (Jim Bannon) is in trouble with a couple of horse thieves. The latter are also terrorizing a homesteader, Texas Milburn (Fuzzy Knight), and his wife, Ruth (Barbara Woodell), and when the female sheriff Alice Long (Phyllis Coates) interferes, she finds herself taken hostage. Using a bit of trickery, Wilson, Bannon, and Texas manage to outwit the gang and arrest their leader, Sam Wellman (I. Stanford Jolley). ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

Producer Samuel Goldwyn dishes up sentiment by the bowlful with My Foolish Heart. Susan Hayward is (somewhat unconvincingly) cast as a wide-eyed girl from Idaho who meets bon vivant Dana Andrews at a Manhattan party. Their brief affair results in a pregnancy, but since Andrews has been killed in the war, Hayward marries a man she doesn't love to give her child a name. The experience turns the girl into an embittered alcoholic, but she sees the light before she can cause grief for her baby. Based on a story by J. D. Salinger (the only one of this reclusive author's stories ever translated to film), My Foolish Heart strains credulity to the breaking point, but was popular enough to yield a hit title song, which is still a standard on "easy listening" FM radio stations. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

John Garfield, in the best performance of his career, portrays Joe Morse, an ambitious attorney who has long since abandoned his scruples in favor of monetary reward. Morse now represents the interests of crime boss Ben Tucker (Roy Roberts), who plans to take over the numbers racket in New York. Morse has devised a way of doing this legally and above-board, with no violence: Tucker's people will bring about the collapse of the illegal numbers racket in the city, using a race track-betting scam that will bankrupt the small-time underworld numbers banks; an investigation will ensue, along with a call for a legal numbers operation in the form of a lottery, which Tucker will control through Morse's machinations. The whole plan hinges on Morse's estranged brother, Leo (Thomas Gomez), a small-time numbers banker who is to be shielded from the collapse, and who will serve as the "legitimate" front for Tucker. Leo is the flaw in the plan, however, because not only can't he stand the sight of Joe, but he is also too honest to participate in the plan -- he doesn't want his employees, all decent people just looking to earn a living, forced into the employ of real gangsters. Joe orchestrates a series of police raids that force Leo into his corner, and Joe's plan seems to be working out, but then the whole enterprise is threatened when a rival mob, run by Tucker's former Prohibition-era partner, Fico (Paul Fix), starts pressuring Leo, trying to get to Joe and Tucker. Fico and his men aren't any different from Tucker's mob, except that they're prepared to start shooting sooner to get what they want. Tucker decides to hang tough and expects everyone, including Leo, to do the same, even when Fico starts sending thugs around to frighten everyone. Soon Joe is beset by problems on three fronts -- he wants his brother out of Tucker's combination and safe; he is trying to romance Leo's bookkeeper (Beatrice Pearson), who is too nice a girl for who he is; and his own well-being is threatened by both Fico and Tucker, and a state investigator who has already tapped the phone of Joe's otherwise respectable partner. All of these threads are pulled together in the final section of the film, which is as violent and disturbing, yet poetic and graceful a resolution as any crime film of the 1940s ever delivered. Force of Evil was star-crossed almost from the start, as many of the people involved, including star John Garfield and director Abraham Polonsky (a writer making his debut behind the camera, with help from assistant director Don Weis in doing the camera set-ups and blocking), were suspect at the time for their leftist political views. Indeed, the company that made Force of Evil, Enterprise Productions, was also in trouble for the leftist leanings of its films in the midst of the Red Scare, and went out of business just as the movie was finished -- dropped by United Artists and picked up by MGM, of all studios, Force of Evil made it into theaters during Christmas week of 1948, not the ideal schedule for something as grim (albeit great) as this film was. As it turned out, it was Polonsky's last chance to direct for more than 20 years, and Garfield's last completely successful film. And a movie that should have been a triumph for all concerned ended up a cult favorite. ~ Bruce Eder, Rovi

A man down on his luck runs afoul of a beautiful but dangerous woman in this superior low-budget film noir. Mike Lambert (Glenn Ford), while trained as a mining engineer, has fallen on hard times and is driving a truck when his rig breaks down in a small town. He soon meets the seductive Paula Craig (Janis Carter) at a cafe and is quickly drawn into her web of larceny. Paula encourages her lover, Stephen Price (Barry Sullivan), to rob the bank that he manages, then kills Stephen and takes the ill-gotten money. Paula confesses the killing to Mike and begs him to run away with her, claiming she murdered Price in a fit of passion while she was drunk. Mike considers her offer until he learns that his close friend Jeff Cunningham (Edgar Buchanan) has been accused of killing Stephen -- and that Paula intends to pin the robbery that Stephen committed on Mike. Femme Fatale Janis Carter originally studied to be a classical musician before her career as an actress took off, while Edgar Buchanan's big break would come 16 years down the road, when he was cast as "Uncle Joe" on the television series Petticoat Junction. ~ Mark Deming, Rovi

While younger, handsomer actors were off fighting WW2, pudgy, middle-aged James Dunn suddenly found himself playing leading roles again. In Leave It to the Irish, Dunn is cast as private investigator Terry Moran, with Wanda McKay as his peppery assistant Nora O'Brien. The Hibernian hero and heroine join forces to solve the murder of a wealthy furrier. Alas, the trail of evidence leads to Terry as the most likely suspect, compelling Nora to simultaneously solve the case and clear her boss. Practically the only character in Leave It to the Irish who isn't Irish is principal villain Maletti, played by Jack LaRue. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi