Leigh Snowden Movies

Michael Curtiz's The Comancheros was a deceptively complex movie -- so enjoyable, that it masked some of the best character development seen in a John Wayne vehicle that was not directed by John Ford or Howard Hawks, and so well made that it got by with some of the most violent action seen in a major studio release of the era. It also bridged the gap between Ford's The Searchers and the upbeat buddy movies of the late '60s and '70s (The Sting, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, etc.). It's 1843 in the Republic of Texas, and Jake Cutter (John Wayne) is a two-fisted Texas Ranger who runs across a gang of white renegades, called the Comancheros, who are trading guns and other contraband with marauding Comanches from a secret hideout in Mexico. Substituting for a repentant gun-runner, he goes undercover as a partner with Crow (Lee Marvin), a vicious half-breed who is a contact man with the Comancheros and knows the whereabouts of their hideout in Mexico. But Crow manages to get himself killed, and Cutter is forced to throw in with Paul Regret (Stuart Whitman), a bystander who also happens to be an itinerant gambler wanted for killing a man in a duel in New Orleans, to complete his mission. It turns out that Regret is a more decent man than most, and he and Cutter, despite some different outlooks on right and wrong, take a liking to each other. Their quest eventually takes them south of the border, where they find the Comancheros and their leader, Graile (Nehemiah Persoff), a bitter, brilliant cripple -- think of The Sea Wolf's Wolf Larsen in a wheelchair -- who has established a landlocked pirate society, and his daughter Pilar (Ina Balin). The only thing that keeps Cutter and Regret alive when they enter the camp is that Pilar and Regret have a history, and she still has feelings for him, enough so that she won't tell what she knows about Cutter and who he is. The two men must play on Graile's greed and Pilar's love in the explosive surroundings of the Comancheros' camp, while figuring out a way to stay alive long enough to get word to the rangers about where they are -- and to survive the attack that must inevitably follow.

Director Michael Curtiz was ill for part of the shoot, and Wayne took up the slack, but The Comancheros displays some of the same freewheeling charm and deep passions that informed classic films of his such as Captain Blood, The Adventures of Robin Hood, and The Sea Hawk. Wayne and Whitman between them manage to evoke some of the rambunctiousness of Errol Flynn, and when Balin (one of the sexiest leading ladies ever to grace a John Wayne movie) arrives onscreen, the testosterone level shoots up even higher and the sexual sparks fly. The film's 105 minutes go by very fast, and this is a movie whose ending comes almost too soon. Curtiz's final film is one that leaves audiences with a smile, but also wanting more, which was a pretty good way to go out. John Wayne's daughter, Aissa Wayne (who subsequently went into a law career) appears in a small role. ~ Bruce Eder, All Movie Guide

This is the final installment in Universal's uneven "Gill Man trilogy," which began with Creature From the Black Lagoon and was followed by Revenge of the Creature, is the least interesting of the bunch. The story finds the prehistoric amphibian far from his Amazon home, kept under close scientific scrutiny in a special facility in Florida. After a laboratory fire severely damages the creature's gills, the head of the research team (Jeff Morrow) initiates an operation that will allow their subject to breathe through a set of latent lungs. After some attempts are made to acclimate the creature to life among human beings, Morrow's plans are destroyed by his own pettiness when one of his colleagues (Gregg Palmer) makes romantic overtures toward his wife, leading to a violent confrontation that leaves the creature badly injured. Alone in alien territory, the Gill Man resolutely shuffles off into the sea -- presumably to commit suicide, since he no longer possesses the ability to breathe underwater. This disappointing conclusion to the series makes little use of the 3-D thrills that enlivened the original and forsakes the opportunity to present a literal fish-out-of-water story in favor of hackneyed melodrama. Champion diver Ricou Browning again portrays the creature in the underwater sequences, with Don Megowan donning the gill-less Gill Man suit on land. ~ Cavett Binion, All Movie Guide

In this adventure, a man a man is paroled from prison and made to join the army so he can break up an international counterfeiting operation involving an ex- army buddy. they use him to woo the friend's lover and pump her for information. He finds her to be a dry well, but the importing firm she works for is a different story. In the end, the fellow breaks up the gang, wins the heart of the girl, and get back together with his father, a Treasury agent. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

One of director Douglas Sirk's best and most successful romantic soapers of the 1950s, All That Heaven Allows is predicated on a May-December romance. The difference here is that the woman, attractive widow Cary Scott (Jane Wyman), is considerably older than the man, handsome gardener-landscaper Ron Kirby (Rock Hudson). Sirk builds up sympathy for Cary by showing how empty her life has been since her husband's death, even suggesting that the marriage itself was no picnic. Throwing conventionial behavior to the winds and facing social ostracism, Cary pursues her romance with Ron, who is unjustly perceived as a fortune-hunter by Cary's friends and family--especially her priggish son Ned (William Reynolds). Amusingly, Conrad Nagel was to have had a much larger part as Harvey, an elderly widower who carries a torch for Cary, but his role was trimmed down during previews when audiences disapproved of an implicit romance between a sixtyish man and a fortysomething woman! All That Heaven Allows was remade by unabashed Douglas Sirk admirer Rainer Werner Fassbinder as Ali--Fear Eats the Soul (1974), in which the age gap between hero and heroine was even wider. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Complaining that Francis the Mule was getting more fan mail than he was, Donald O'Connor bade adios to the "Francis" series with this 1955 entry. Once more, O'Connor plays Army lieutenant Peter Sterling, who heads to a navy base when it looks like his old pal Francis is about to be auctioned off as surplus. In short order, Sterling is mistaken for a bos'n's mate whom he resembles, and it's off to sea for both Peter and the mule. Among the able-bodied seamen in this film is a chap named Jonesy, played by a young Clint Eastwood in his second movie appearance. An eleborate slapstick finale brings this one to a rousing conclusion. Director Arthur Lubin likewise left the "Francis" series after Francis in the Navy; the next (and last) entry, Francis in the Haunted House, starred Mickey Rooney and was directed by Charles Lamont. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide