★★★½
“She’s more cold-blooded than any man I’ve ever seen.”
This Western was released in 1953, and feels decades ahead of its time. It’s set toward the end of the Civil War, in the town of Border City, which sits exactly on the dividing line between North and South. A settlement built on mining, it has remained a neutral zone under strictly enforced rules laid down by Mayor Delilah Courtney, selling lead to both sides for their bullets. As well as Yankee and Confederate soldiers in the area, the picture is complicated by Quantrill’s Raiders, a group of independent (yet generally pro-South) soldiers under Charles Quantrill (Donlevy). [They really existed, and as the film reveals, had some well-known names in their ranks]
Quantrill arrives in town alongside Sally Maris (Leslie), there to visit her brother, Bill, who runs the local saloon. However, tensions are high, since a couple of years earlier, Quantrill had abducted Bill’s girlfriend, Kate (Totter), taking her as his wife. Kate instigates a gunfight in which her husband shoots Bill, and after some doubts, Sally takes over the saloon. But Kate won’t let it lie, and her enmity leads to a gunfight between the women, which Sally wins, although she refuses to finish the wounded Kate off. When the Yankee army rides in, seeking to end Quantrill’s group, she shelters Kate, despite all that has happened. Meanwhile, Sally has fallen for Lance (Lund), a supervisor at the local mine, who is playing a dangerous game as an undercover agent for the Confederacy.
A lot to unpack in a brisk 90 minutes, with a great concept, of which I’d like to have seen more use made. An entire film about Mayor Courtney and her hardcore approach to neutrality (which includes summary execution for anyone she perceives as threatening the balance) would have been worth the watch. But it’s mostly the Sally/Kate dynamic which drives the film, leading to a saloon cat-fight after Kate threatens to start singing Dixie – an incendiary act which could easily trigger a blood-bath. Even more impressively, it escalates into the duel mentioned above (and shown below) – is it the first gun-fight in cinema, solely between two women? It’s a spectator sport, with the rest of the town watching in fascination; the men on both sides simply let things unfold as they may.
Though it’s really Sally’s story, Kate gets the poster and is also the subject of the tagline at the top. Proof, once more, that bad girls have more fun. There was, apparently, a difference in approach between the two actresses, Joan Leslie saying, “Audrey later told me she played the whole thing for farce, while I was doing it straight.” Yet fifties farce turns into female empowerment when viewed through a 21st-century lens, especially when Kate is lamenting her husband’s hold over her, which is positively #MeToo in tone: “At first I fought him. I tried every way I knew to try and escape. And later on, I became just like him.” Yet she’s actually far more of a dangerous wild-card than Quantrill.
I must say, Sally’s transition from straitlaced lady to whorehouse madam is rather jarring, and it’s never satisfactorily explained why she’s such an expert shot. The film never quite manages to recapture the refreshing energy of her duel against Kate; it feels like that should have been the climax, rather than petering out at the end of the war, with everyone joining in a rousing chorus of Dixie. And Totter’s pair of musical numbers appear to have strayed in from another film entirely. Yet the two leads are more than capable of carrying this: it’s especially interesting to note how this foreshadows the similarly-themed, yet much better known, Johnny Guitar, released a year later.
Dir: Allan Dwan
Star: Joan Leslie, John Lund, Audrey Totter, Brian Donlevy