Ray Bennett Movies

Sick of working himself to death for next to no money, and convinced that no one appreciates him, Doc (Milburn Stone) is on the verge of leaving Dodge City forever. All this changes when Doc is kidnapped by stagecoach robbers Jed (Claude Akins) and Rod (Ray Bennett), who threaten to kill him if he can't save the life of their wounded cohort Brant. With the help of his Indian friend Tobeel (Frank DeKova), Matt (James Arness) devises a scheme to save Doc's life--possibly at the cost of his own. This episode is based on the Gunsmoke radio broadcast of April 3, 1954. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

George Stevens' sprawling adaptation of Edna Ferber's best-selling novel successfully walks a fine line between potboiler and serious drama for its 210-minute running time, making it one of the few epics of its era that continues to hold up as engrossing entertainment across the decades. Giant opens circa 1922 in Maryland, where Texas rancher Jordan "Bick" Benedict (Rock Hudson) has arrived to buy a stallion called War Winds from its owner, Dr. Horace Lynnton (Paul Fix). But much as Bick loves and knows horses, he finds himself even more transfixed by the doctor's daughter, Leslie Lynnton (Elizabeth Taylor), and after some awkward moments, she has to admit that she's equally drawn to the shy, laconic Texan. They get married and Leslie spends her honeymoon traveling with Jordan to his ranch, Reata, which covers nearly a million acres of Texas. Once there, however, she finds that she has to push her way into her rightful role as mistress of the house, past Bick's sister, Luz (Mercedes McCambridge), who can't accept her brother's marriage or the changes it means in the home they share. Also working around Reata is the laconic ranch hand Jett Rink (James Dean) -- from a family as rooted in Texas as the Benedicts but not nearly as lucky (or "foxy"), Jett is dirt-poor and barely educated at all, and he fairly oozes resentment at Bick for his arrogance, although Luz likes him and for that reason alone Bick is obliged to keep him on. One thing Jett does have in common with his employer is that he is in awe of Leslie's beauty; another is his nearly total contempt for the Mexican-Americans who work for them -- Jett and Bick may have contempt for each other, but either one is just as likely to dismiss the Mexican-Americans around them as a bunch of shiftless "wetbacks." Luz feels so threatened with a loss of power and control that she decides to assert herself with War Winds, yet another "prize" that Bick brought back from Maryland that resists her authority -- then decides to ride the stallion despite being warned that no one but Leslie is wholly safe on him, and spurs him brutally in an effort to break him, which ends up destroying them both in the battle of wills she starts.

After Luz's death, Jett learns that she left him a tiny piece of land for his own, on Reata, which he refuses to sell back to Bick, preferring to keep it for his own and maybe prospect for oil on it. Meanwhile, Leslie and Bick have their own problems -- Leslie can't abide the wretched conditions in which the Mexican families who work on Reata are allowed to live, taking a special interest in Mr. and Mrs. Obregon and their baby, Angel; but Bick doesn't want his wife, or any member of his family, concerning themselves with "those people." Leslie's humanity and her independence push their marriage to the limit, but Bick comes to accept this in his wife, and in four years of marriage they have three handsome children, a boy and two girls, and a loving if occasionally awkward home life. Meanwhile, Jett strikes oil on his land -- which he's named Little Reata -- and in a couple of years he's on his way to becoming the richest man in Texas, getting drilling contracts on all of the land in the area (except Reata) and making more money than the Benedicts ever saw from raising cattle. Bick is almost oblivious to the way Jett grows in power and influence across the years and the state, mostly because he's got his own family to worry about, including a son, Jordan III (Dennis Hopper), who doesn't want to take over the ranch from him, but wants instead to be a doctor; an older daughter, Judy (Fran Bennett), who wants to study animal husbandry and marry a local rancher (Earl Holliman) and start a tiny spread of her own; and a younger daughter, Luz (Carroll Baker), who's just a bit man-crazy and star-struck by the movies.

The American entry into the Second World War and the resulting need for oil forces Bick to go into business with Jett and allow him to drill on Reata, and suddenly the Benedicts are wealthy enough to be part of Jett Rink's circle, which includes the governor of the state and at least one United States senator at his beck and call -- and Luz develops a serious crush on Jett, who likes his women young and is especially attracted to her, as Bick's and Leslie's daughter. Young Jordan marries Juana, a Mexican-American nursing student (Elsa Cardenas), and his father accepts it begrudgingly, with help from Leslie. The war kills Angel Obregon (Sal Mineo), a death that even affects Bick, but the Benedict family gets through it wealthier than ever and grows some more with the birth of Jordan IV to Jordie and Juana. When the family attends a gala opening of Jett Rink Airport, which concludes with a dinner honoring Jett's success, however, young Jordan's wife is humiliated by Jett's racist edicts, and he is beaten up by Jett's men after punching the oil baron. Seeing this, Bick challenges his old rival to the fight that's been brewing for a quarter of a century and wins by default, Jett being too drunk to defend himself or to hit; he's also too drunk to make the grand speech that was to climax the celebration, and he ends up alone in the ballroom. The Benedicts have it out with each other, young Jordan accusing his father of being as much a racist as Jett, and Leslie caught in the middle between her husband and her son. It looks like the Benedicts may lose each other, until an encounter with a racist diner owner forces Bick to stand up and get knocked down (more than once) defending his daughter-in-law and his grandson.

Seen today, Giant seems the least dated of any of James Dean's three starring films, in part because it addresses issues that remain relevant more than 50 years later, and also because it has the best all-around acting and the best script of any of the three. Taken in broader terms, it's even better, with two of the best performances that Elizabeth Taylor and Rock Hudson ever gave, and perhaps the second best of Hudson's whole career (after Seconds) -- the only unfortunate element at modern theatrical screenings is the tendency of younger viewers, who only know him in terms of the revelations late in his life of his being gay, to laugh and snicker at elements of Hudson's characterization; but his work is so good that the titters usually fade after the first 30 minutes or so. ~ Bruce Eder, Rovi

Like so many other films that were once considered "lewd" and "scandalous", The French Line seems as harmless as Pollyanna when seen today. Essentially a remake of The Richest Girl in the World, the film stars Jane Russell as Mary Carson, an incredibly wealthy Texas oil heiress. Lucky in investments but unlucky in love, poor Mary can never keep a fiance: either they're fortune-hunters or they don't want to marry anyone so rich and powerful. Thus, while on an ocean voyage to France, Mary poses as the model of dress designer Annie Farrell (Mary McCarthy), hoping to attract a man who is interested in her for herself, and not her millions. That man turns out to be dashing stage star Pierre (Gilbert Roland), but there's many comic complications and misunderstandings before the happy ending. What shocked the censors in 1954 was Jane Russell's sizzling musical number "Lookin' for Trouble", in which she performed an uninhibited bump-and-grind while wearing nothing more than a seven-ounce glorified bikini. While Ms. Russell herself was offended by her skimpy costume, she saw nothing wrong with the dance itself, pointing out that she intended it as a parody of a "burleycue" number. The professional blue-noses disagreed, however: the film was condemned by the Catholic Legion of Decency and denied a Production Code Seal. Eventually, producer Howard Hughes got the Seal--along with a million dollars' worth of free publicity, which is what he intended all along. Filmed in 3D, The French Line is the film that was ballyhooed with the classically tasteless ad campaign "J.R. in 3D--It'll knock both your eyes out!" ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The title character of this western can only be one of two actresses: Maureen O'Hara or Rhonda Fleming. But Fleming apparently had something else to do, so O'Hara won the coin-toss. She plays a dance-hall gal who protects the identity of a cattle rustler--mainly because she's the same crooked business herself. Complications ensue when O'Hara falls in love with the very sheriff (Alex Nicol) who intends to bring the rustler to justice. Redhead from Wyoming was filmed in Technicolor; the producers would have been insane not to do so. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The Waco depicted in this film is a wide-open Texas frontier town, in desperate need of a strong authority figure to clean out the criminal element. The man needed is the man found: Matt Boone, played by Wild Bill Elliot. Though himself a fugitive from justice (he killed a man in self-defense), Boone takes his responsibilities as sheriff very seriously. Flying in the face of standard "good badman" movie cliches, Boone is often as brutal and ruthless as the desperadoes he comes up against. Waco was one more feather in the cap of cowboy star Bill Elliot, who appeared in some of the toughest -- and best -- medium-budget westerns of the 1950s. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

An old prospector named Pop (Housely Stevenson) is overcome by coal gases and trapped in a mine. Courageous but foolhardy Lois Lane (Phyllis Coates) tries to go to the old man's rescue, only to be trapped as well. The only way that Superman (George Reeves) can save both Lois and Pop is to literally burrow through several layers of solid rock--which he does, courtesy of a special effect that was "state of the art" back in 1952! ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

As other "B"-western series kept dropping like flies in 1952, Johnny Mack Brown kept grinding 'em out for Monogram. In Man From Black Hills, Johnny tries to help locate his saddle pal Jim Fallan's (James Ellison) long-lost father. Arriving in a small mining town, Johnny and Jim discover that Jim's father has established a financial empire--and that a local opportunist (Randy Brooks) has capitalized on this by claiming to be the old man's son. A few fistfights and gun battles later, things are set aright. Man From Black Hills was directed by Thomas Carr, who went on to a prolific career on episodic television. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Not so much produced as stitched together, The Black Lash was ostensibly a sequel, with plenty of stock footage, to Frontier Revenge (1948). Duce Rago (Ray Bennett), whom Marshal (Al "Lash" LaRue) had shipped off to prison in the earlier adventure, is back but his stagecoach and train robberies leave a bit to be desired due to the stupidity of the hired help. Lawyer Bill Leonard (Byron Keith) suggests that they get some "heavy artillery," meaning good ol' Lash, who apparently was so disgusted with Rago only receiving a slap on the wrist for his previous crimes that he abandoned law enforcement for good. Naturally, our black-clad hero is working undercover with Cattlemen's Association agent Lem Woodruff (Kermit Maynard) and this time he manages to send Duce up the river for more than six months. Bennett, Sarah Padden, and Jim Bannon all repeated their roles from the earlier film; actually, the latter was apparently unavailable and a double was rather noticeably employed in all the new footage. Leading lady Peggy Stewart was also back, but her character had changed from an undercover agent in Frontier Revenge to a villainess in the return engagement. (Both Stewart and Ray Bennett visibly age from one scene to another.) Walter Greene's intrusive score is kept at a high pitch throughout even though not much is happening onscreen and the film's running time is stretched to an interminable length with seemingly endless chases on horseback, a sure sign of economy in scripting and execution. The fact that producers Ron Ormond and June Carr (Mrs. Ormond) stretched the Lash LaRue series well beyond the saturation point can only be explained by the popularity of LaRue's sidekick, Al St. John, whose Fuzzy Q. Jones character proved a perennial favorite with the small fry. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

In this western, Lash LaRue and his trusty bullwhip are assigned to keep outlaws from getting to the new territorial governor. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Fancy Pants is a musicalized remake of the oft-filmed Harry Leon Wilson story Ruggles of Red Gap, tailored to the talents of "Mr. Robert Hope (formerly Bob)". The basic plotline of the original, that of an English butler entering the service of a rowdy nouveau-riche family from the American West, is retained. The major difference is that main character (Bob Hope) plays a third-rate American actor who only pretends to be a British gentleman's gentleman. Social-climbing American heiress Lucille Ball hires Hope to impress her high-society English acquaintances, then takes him back to her ranch in New Mexico. Though there are many close shaves, Hope manages to convince the wild and woolly westerners that he's a genuine British Lord--even pulling the wool over the eyes of visiting celebrity Teddy Roosevelt (John Alexander). Never as droll as the 1935 Leo McCarey-directed Ruggles of Red Gap, Fancy Pants nonetheless works quite well on its own broad, slapsticky level. If the ending seems abrupt, it may be because the original finale, in which a fleeing Bob Hope and Lucille Ball were to be rescued by surprise guest star Roy Rogers, was abandoned just before the scene was shot. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Lin McAdam (James Stewart) and his friend High-Spade (Millard Mitchell) arrive in Dodge City for a shooting contest, in which the prize is a perfectly manufactured Winchester repeating rifle, referred to as "One of a Thousand" -- a gun so fine that Winchester won't sell it. Lin runs across Dutch Henry Brown (Stephen McNally) in a saloon and the two would kill each other right there but for the fact that town marshal Wyatt Earp (Will Geer) has everyone's guns. Lin wins the rifle in an extraordinary marksmanship match-up with Brown, but the latter steals the prize from him and sets out across the desert. Thus begins a battle of wits and nerves, and a pursuit to the death. The roots and raw psychological dimensions of that chase are only exposed gradually, across a story arc that includes references to Custer's Last Stand, run-ins with marauding Indians, a heroic stand with a a shady but well-intentioned grifter (Charles Drake), and a meeting with murderous sociopath named Waco Johnny Dean (Dan Duryea), plus a romantic encounter with a young, golden-hearted frontier woman (Shelley Winters). All of these story lines eventually get drawn together neatly and gracefully by director Anthony Mann, who balances the violence of the events with a lyrical, almost poetic visual language. ~ Bruce Eder, Rovi

Originally designed for church showings, Messenger of Peace was blown up from 16mm to 35mm and given a brief theatrical distribution early in 1950. Told in flashback, this is the inspirational story of Pastor Armin Ritter (John Beal), whose faith remains unshakable despite the most extreme forms of personal tragedy. Peggy Stewart co-stars as Ritter's ever-supportive wife, while Paul Guilfoyle has a plum role as an alcoholic who "sees the light." Though excessively hokey at times, the film scores on its obvious sincerity. Messenger of Peace was filmed by Roland Reed Productions, the same firm responsible for TV's religious weekly This is the Life. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Warren Quimby (Richard Basehart) has a problem that he won't admit to: his wife, Claire (Audrey Totter), wants more fun and excitement out of life than the quiet, soft-spoken pharmacist can give her. So she steps out on him regularly, something that Warren refuses to recognize until the day she packs her bags and announces she's moving in with Barney Deager (Lloyd Gough), the flashy, high-living salesman whom she's been seeing on the side. Warren goes to Deager's, to ask her to come back, and gets beaten up by his rival. The worm suddenly turns in his own quiet way of doing things, and Warren decides he's going to get even -- he's going to murder Deager, but to do it and not get caught, he bides his time. He begins building a new identity for himself, changing his appearance (starting with getting rid of his thick glasses in favor of then-newly-invented contact lenses), and establishing his alter ego of "Paul Sothern" at a new address. He then starts making threatening calls to Deager, identifying himself as Sothern, in order to establish a history of enmity between the two. It's all going according to plan -- he will kill Deager and the blame will fall on "Sothern," who, of course, doesn't exist, and will have vanished. But then he meets Mary Chanler (Cyd Charisse), a neighbor at "Sothern"'s apartment building, and the two become attracted to each other. For every step forward that he takes in his plan for murder, he also finds himself with new possibilities in his life, growing out of his relationship with Mary. Finally, the night comes when he breaks into Deager's home and is about to kill him, when it dawns on Warren that he doesn't need to do this....He awakens Deager and tells him what almost happened and that he's leaving, and Deager is welcome to Claire, and leaves. It seems as though he's averted disaster when Claire shows up later that night, pleading for reconciliation and finally, when pressed, telling him that someone has murdered Deager. The man has been shot, and the police, led by lieutenants Bonnabel (Barry Sullivan) and Gonsales (William Conrad), are hunting for Paul Sothern. Now Warren is scared for his life, having done his best to frame himself, and Claire isn't helping by trying to run interference -- he can't tell if she's trying to protect the two of them, implicate Sothern, or protect herself, and he's too scared to say almost anything at all to the detectives. ~ Bruce Eder, Rovi