FILM REVIEW OF ''A MILLION WAYS TO DIE IN THE WEST" (2014)

Seth MacFarlane’s half-baked horse opera “A Million Ways to Die in the West” (** OUT OF ****) qualifies as a saddle-sore saga.  This lowest common denominator sagebrush satire boasts low-brow bowel humor, highly offensive language, and gory death scenes.  Despite all these unsavory elements, this western spoof emerges as fair at best and routine at worst.  Sporadically funny jokes and gags cannot conceal the conventions and clichés.  The first problem is the trite Alex Sulkin, Wellesley Wild, and Seth MacFarlane screenplay.  Recently, I watched an Eddie Albert comedy “The Dude Goes West” (1947) that covered similar ground with greater success.  MacFarlane and his co-writers rant about the deplorable conditions governing life on the frontier in the 19^th century American west.  The hero and the heroine hate the west.  This revulsion of all things western neither distinguishes MacFarlane’s movie nor makes its humor any funnier.  The only place where “A Million Ways to Die” breaks ground is with its raunchy R-rated jokes.  Some of the jokes hit, but most miss. Some jokes are so vile they might gag the guys in the “Jackass” movies.  Indeed, MacFarlane gets away with a lot in this lame oater, especially during the opening “Gunsmoke” showdown.  The good jokes are really good.  One of the best turns out to be badly told but this serves to accentuate the humor.  The second problem is most of the dialogue sounds like stand-up, comic routines.  Some standup comedy routines are better than others.  The best gag concerns Old West photography.  The running joke is nobody smiles in a photograph in the 19^th century.  Nevertheless, the grinning photo attained the status as an urban legend.  Those who aren’t appalled by MacFarlane’s infantile as well as scatological sense of humor will no doubt want to roll in it like a dog in its own feces.  “A Million Ways to Die in the West” struggles to emulate “Blazing Saddles,” deliver dialogue like “Deadwood,” and show off like “Faces of Death.”

The setting of “A Million Ways to Die” is the town of Old Stump in the Arizona Territory in the year 1882.  Our pusillanimous sheep farming protagonist, Albert Stark (Seth MacFarlane of “Ted”), sinks into a state of depression after his schoolmarm girlfriend, Louise (Amanda Seyfried), dumps him for a snotty lothario, Foy (Neal Patrick Harris of “Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle”), who owns a mustache shop.  No, nice-guy Albert doesn’t sport a mustache.  Louise left Albert because she classified him as too cowardly.  During the opening Main Street showdown, Albert drops his six-gun in the dust rather than shoot it out with another gunman.  Later, Albert challenges Foy to a duel.  Meantime, a mysterious woman, Anna (Charlize Theron of “Monster”), shows Albert how to handle a hog-leg.  Anna, as it turns out, is the wife of notorious outlaw Clinch Leatherwood (Liam Neeson of “Taken”) who eventually decides to shoot Albert for flirting with his wife.  Basically, boy loses girl, boy tries to get girl back, but takes up with a different girl describes the storyline.  An imbecilic subplot concerns the romance between a hard-working saloon prostitute, Ruth (Sarah Silverman of “Evolution”) and a timid male virgin shoemaker (Giovanni Ribisi of “The Mod Squad”) who has agreed not to have intercourse with her until their wedding night.  Albert and his friends emerge as likeable, sympathetic characters, while Foy, Clinch, and his henchmen are as repulsive as rattlers.

Although best known as the creator of the respective animated series “American Dad” and “Family Guy,” not to mention his previous blockbuster comedy “Ted” with Mark Wahlberg, MacFarlane must have been gambling that he could resurrect a moribund franchise with his impertinent humor.  Westerns have not performed well at the box office since the early 1990s, and even then the genre was riding on borrowed time.  After John Wayne died and Clint Eastwood got too old plains, westerns have never regained their former grandeur.  Disney’s “Lone Ranger” tanked last summer, and only AMC’s “Hell on Wheels” on television has survived with any success.  The Jeff Bridges “True Grit” remake and Quentin Tarantino’s slave saga “Django” are the sole examples of successes.  Nothing about MacFarlane’s approach to the genre justifies its use.  He looks out of place himself with his hopelessly clean-scrubbed, Shoney’s Big Boy looks.  Aside from his profanity, MacFarlane plays the same tenderfoot that Bob Hope, Eddie Albert, Gary Cooper, Don Knotts, or Tim Conway have done in earlier movies and television shows.  Neil Patrick Harris usually steals the show no matter what the material, but he makes only a minor impression with his Snidely Whiplash villain.  Unfortunate Amanda Seyfried has little more to do than bulge her beautiful eyes and swish an umbrella.  Charlize Theron and Liam Neeson wander through their roles.  Colorful cameos by the likes of Christopher Lloyd, Gilbert Gottfried, Ewan McGregor, Jamie Foxx, and Bill Maher prove more stimulating.  “A Million Ways to Die in the West” could have been a million times better.

FILM REVIEW OF ''THE LONE RANGER'' (2013)

 “The Lone Ranger” (*** OUT OF ****) is an entertaining but outlandish western spoof aboutthe origins of the protagonist told from the perspective of his faithful Indian companion Tonto.  Since westerns are neither popular nor fashionable, Walt Disney Pictures and producer Jerry Bruckheimer must have felt that the only way to treat the subject matter without alienating audiences was to emphasize comedy.  Just about everybody I know has referred to it as “Pirates of the Caribbean” on the western frontier.  The comparison seems apt, too.  Director Gore Verbinski helmed the first three “Pirates” epics.  Johnny Depp starred in them, too.  Interestingly, Depp’s Tonto emerges as a far more tragic but sympathetic figure than Captain Jack Sparrow.  Some of the larger-than-life shenanigans, particularly the agile display of horsemanship atop a fast-moving train, can be attributed to co-scenarists Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio.  Not only did they write “The Mask of Zorro,” but they also penned “The Legend of Zorro.”  Antonio Banderas galloped his black stallion atop a trundling train, too.  Elliot and Rossio also wrote “Alladin,” “Small Soldiers,” and the first three “Pirates” movies.  A third scenarist, Justin Haythe of “Snitch” and “Revolutionary Road,” contributed to this sprawling saga.  Mind you, Armie Hammer’s Lone Ranger is nothing like Clayton Moore’s Masked Man.  Moore debuted as the eponymous character in the ABC-TV series “The Lone Ranger” back in 1949.  He wore the mask longer than any other actor.  Clayton Moore registered so deeply in the American psyche as the Masked Man that his clash with the copyright holders in 1981 about wearing the mask yielded enough bad publicity to sink “The Legend of the Lone Ranger.”  Apart from the WB Network, the Lone Ranger hasn’t fired any silver slugs since 2003.  Verbinski and his scribes poke fun at the most important convention of The Lone Ranger: the mask.  None of the previous Rangers worried about the mask. Armie Hammer’s Lone Ranger feels self-conscious about the mask and doesn’t understand its significance.  Everybody who encounters the Lone Ranger asks him about the mask.  

“The Lone Ranger” opens in San Francisco in 1933.  A little boy in a cowboy outfit, hat, vest, mask, and matching cap pistols pays for a ticket to see a Wild West Show.  He stares at a number of exhibits, such as the buffalo, and then he meets a replica of a Noble Savage.  At this point, in the tradition of the “Night at the Museum,” the Indian surprises him and speaks.  A wizened Tonto (Johnny Depp of “Blow”) wears a black bird atop his head and looks like he should be at the Happy Hunting Ground.  He recognizes his old partner, the Lone Ranger, and blows the little guy’s mind so much that the kid whips out a cap pistol and blasts away.  Afterward, Tonto settles down to chronicle the legend of the Lone Ranger.  John Reid (Armie Hammer of “The Social Network”) has acquired a law degree and is returning home to Colby, Texas, to serve as the county prosecutor.  At the same time, treacherous railroad executive Lathan Cole (Tom Wilkerson of “The Green Hornet”) has pulled strings so he can hang one of the most notorious outlaws, Butch Cavendish (William Fichtner of “Heat”), wherever he wants as a warning to other desperadoes.  Awaiting the train at the station is John’s older brother Dan (James Badge Dale of “World War Z”).  John and Dan’s father served with the Texas Rangers.  Dan and his wife Rebecca (Ruth Wilson) watch in horror as the train derails. A huge lever designed to spin the wheels of the locomotive tumbles end-over-end from the sky and narrowly misses our heroes.  When we meet the chief villain, Butch Cavendish, this murderer is chained to the floor of a freight car.  Tonto sits nearby and watches as the outlaw finds a six-gun stashed under a plank.  Cavendish behaves like an unsavory villain.  He shoots both of sentries without a qualm.  Impetuous John Reid manages to get the drop on him.  Nevertheless, Cavendish escapes, and our heroes barely get off the train in time to save themselves.  Dan forms a posse and tosses John his father’s Texas Rangers badge.  Basically, John behaves like every western tinhorn that you’ve ever seen on the big-screen.  Dan’s trustworthy scout Collins (Leon Rippy of “Stargate”) betrays the Rangers and leads them into an ambush.  Everybody gets shot to ribbons.  The depraved Cavendish turns out to be a cannibal, but he isn’t shown chowing down. Meantime, John is shot twice, passes out, and appears dead for all practical purposes.  Tonto finds him later and tries to bury him.  At one point, a mysterious white stallion materializes and scrapes its hoof across John Reid’s Ranger badge.  Afterward, Cavendish kidnaps Dan’s widow Rebecca and her son Danny.  Eventually, Cavendish orders Collins to finish them off.  

“The Lone Ranger” occurs against the scenic backdrop of American history during the construction of the transcontinental railroad.  The infamous Cavendish and Cole are playing for high stakes.  They have struck it rich with silver mine and excavated over $30 million worth of ore.  Rather than remain content as a minor railway executive, Cole mounts a hostile takeover of the railway company while orchestrating the annihilation of the Comanche Indian nation.  John Reid bumbles along for the first 90 minutes trying to convince himself he can be a man of action.  Verbinski pulls out all stops late in this 149 minute melodrama when he stages a chase between two trains.  This incredible railway sequence is reminiscent of the unforgettable stunts that silent movie star Buster Keaton pulled off in “The General.”  Finally, near the end of the movie, John Reid understands why he must never remove the mask.  He also realizes why he can never have a relationship with Rebecca. As corrupt as society is, the only way to combat this corruption is to be an outlaw.  Altogether, despite its titanic length, “The Lone Ranger” has no shortage of death-defying exploits or spectacular desert scenery.  

FILM REVIEW OF "NAVAJO JOE" (ITALIAN-1966)

 This cynical Sergio Corbucci horse opera about the eponymous Native American hero exacting vengeance on a murderous gang of cutthroat renegades for murdering his woman and massacring his village qualifies as a stalwart, traditional Spaghetti western with nonstop riding, shooting, and killing galore.  Killing constitutes a virtual reflex action in this savage, above-average shoot'em up.  “Gunsmoke” actor Burt Reynolds must have been in the best shape of his life to pull off some of his stunts.  He leaps and he lunges as if he were a born acrobat. For example, trussed upside down by the evil villains, he gets a little help from a sneaky city slicker and crunches up to untie his ankles. Remember how Richard Gere did sit-ups dangling by his ankles from the ceiling of his apartment in "American Gigolo?" Burt performs similar stunts and is as nimble as a ninja.  Masquerading as Leo Nichols, "Fistful of Dollars" composer Ennio Morricone conjures up another memorable, atmospheric orchestral soundtrack with traditional Indian chanting, screaming, and steel string guitar thumping.  Quentin Tarantino thought so much of it and he sampled Morricone’s score in his two sword-wielding “Kill Bill” bloodbaths.  “Hercules, Samson, and Ulysses” lenser Silvano Ippoliti confines all the rampaging violence very skillfully with his widescreen compositions so everything looks aesthetically cool.  Some of Ippoliti’s more imaginative images occur when he hides the identity of one of the villains during a saloon conference scene.

"Navajo Joe" is one of a fistful of westerns where the only good Indian isn't a dead one. Few American westerns would celebrate the Native American as Corbucci does in "Navajo Joe." Joe is pretty doggoned smart for a savage. Veteran Spaghetti western villain Aldo Sambrell is as treacherous as they come. So filled with hate is he that he kills without a qualm. No sooner has Mervyn 'Vee' Duncan  (Aldo Sambrell of "For A Few Dollars More") shot, killed, and scalped Joe's Indian wife than Joe hits the trail in pursuit of Duncan and his gang. Gradually, Joe begins to whittle down the opposition. Meanwhile, Duncan discovers that the authorities in the town of Pyote where he once sold scalps have posted a bounty of both himself and his half-brother.  Just before Duncan’s blonde-headed brother Jeffrey (Lucio Rosato of “4 Dollars of Revenge’’) drills the sheriff with his six-shooter, the lawman informs an incredulous Duncan that he is wanted for murder.  Duncan points out that he has been bringing the sheriff the scalps of Indians for years. “The scalps you brought then were those of troublemakers,” the lawman points out.  According to the sheriff, things have changed. “Now, you’re attacking peaceful tribes, killing even the women and the children.” A prominent doctor convinces Duncan to rob a train heading for the town of Esperanza. He warns Duncan not to try and blow up the safe because an explosion will destroy the half-million dollars in the safe. He knows the combination and they can split the loot.  This part of the “Navajo Joe” screenplay by “Fistful of Dollars” scribe Fernando Di Leo, “Hills Run Red” writer Piero Regnoli, and “Mafia” scribe Ugo Pirro sounds somewhat like “For a Few Dollars More” when Colonel Mortimer persuades El Indio to let him open the safe because too much dynamite might destroy the loot.  Before Duncan leaves town, his gang and he set it ablaze.   

Predictably, Joe intervenes and steals the train from Duncan after the villainous dastard has massacred all the passengers, including a woman and her baby, along with the U.S. Army escort. Joe takes the train to Esperanza and offers to liquidate the gang if they will pay him a dollar for each head.  Eventually, Duncan captures Joe and tries to learn the whereabouts of the money, but Joe does not talk. Duncan ranks as one of the most heartless outlaws. He shoots a preacher point blank in the belly with his six-gun after the minister thanks him for not wiping out their town!  This trim 93-minute oater features a lean, mean Burt Reynolds wielding a Winchester like a demon and decimating the ranks of the bad guys. The Spanish scenery looks as untamed as the ruthless desperadoes that plunder one town after another.  “Django” director Sergio Corbucci never allows the action to slow down.  Despite its many sterling qualities, “Navajo Joe” never achieved the status of other Corbucci westerns like “The Mercenary,” “The Grand Silence” and “Companeros.” The no-frills MGM DVD presents the action in widescreen with several languages in subtitles.

FILM REVIEW OF ''DAWN RIDER" (2012)

Hollywood has all but forsaken westerns. Typically, the sagebrushers that are produced turn out lame. "Recoil" director Terry Miles and "Knockout" scenarists Eric Jacobs and Joseph Nasser prove the exception to the rule with their above-average remake of the vintage John Wayne B-movie western "The Dawn Rider.” The Wayne oater was a remake of director Lloyd Nosler's oater "Galloping Thru" (1931) with Tom Tyler.  As it turns out, "Dawn Rider" (*** out of ****) is the second time that "The Dawn Rider" has been remade; director George Waggner's "Western Trails" (1938) preceded it as the first remake of "The Dawn Rider." In their remake, Miles and his scribes have opened up the action considerably and supplemented the narrative with greater depth as well as length.  The original ran a scant 53 minutes compared with the second remake at 94 minutes. Mind you, Christian Slater couldn't fill John Wayne's boots, but he makes a credible western hero in his own right. Donald Sutherland co-stars as a heavily-bearded, bulletproof lawman on our protagonist's trail.  No lawman pursued Wayne in director Ray N. Bradbury's 1935 original. Indeed, the Sutherland character recalls the sheriff that Harry Carey, Sr., portrayed in a later Wayne horse opera "Angel and the Badman." According to Miles, he appropriated the indefatigable lawman figure from another of his own screenplays. Lochlyn Munro makes a good villain, while Jill Hennessy emerges as our hero's romantic partner. She isn't relegated to the periphery.  She brandishes a revolver and holds her own against the guys. The production values are sturdy, and the cast looks seasoned as well as believable. Miles stages the shoot-outs with reasonable flair, but this oater doesn't break any ground, except casting Slater as a western hero. The villain resorts to a life of crime to pay off a bill involving ownership of a ranch. The hardware appears authentic enough, with cap and ball pistols sometimes substituting for cartridge carrying sidearms.  Although it won't win any Oscars, "Dawn Rider" ranks as one of the better westerns to trot across the screen.

"Dawn Rider" opens as John Mason (Christian Slater of "True Romance") urinates in the woods and then checks the cherry tomatoes in his garden.  Mason marks an X through October 13 on a calendar.  He has been holed up in the cabin for over three months. Later, U.S. Marshal Cochrane (Donald Sutherland of "M.A.S.H.") and two trigger-happy gunmen ride up and cut loose with a barrage of rifle-fire.  Cochrane reprimands them for shooting indiscriminately into the cabin.  He stands to lose a $500 bonus if he doesn't bring Mason in alive.  When they storm the cabin, these fellows hear an explosion, and trapdoor in the floor shudders as Mason makes his escape through a tunnel without injury.  Meantime, in Sarsaparilla, Wyoming, a gang of outlaws wearing flour sacks as masks shoot it out in broad daylight, kill a marshal, and steal a bag that contains only mail but no money.  Rudd Gordon (Lochlyn Munro of "Recoil") is desperate to round up $5000 to pay the debt on the ranch he owes to the Standard Rail Company.  Rudd's sister Alice (Jill Hennessy of "Wild Hogs") lives with him.  Mind you, Alice has no idea that her brother is a desperado. 

In Grey Falls, Montana, Mason is drinking in a saloon when he intervenes on behalf of Ben McClure (Ben Cotton of "Brothers and Sisters") who is being cheated in poker game. The locals recognize Mason from the reputation that he acquired in Cincinnati in a gunfight. Mason denies ever having been in the Ohio town. Miles turns this into a running gag. This is similar to a line in the John Wayne movie "Big Jake" where Wayne contradicts everybody that he comes into contact with about being dead.  Later, McClure and he share the same campfire. Ben shows Mason a ring that he plans to give to his beloved.  As it turns out, Ben works alongside Mason's father in the freight office in Promise, Wyoming. Dad Mason (Kenneth W. Yanko of "Ignition") greets his son with a rifle in the face. Dad likes to speak Spanish as a second language. Mason objects to Dad's Spanish. He abhors Dad's use of Spanish because his father married a Mexican woman after his mother died.  Mason has never forgiven his father. The use of Spanish is another running gag that pays off later because Dad recognizes the killers that rob him from double X-brand on them.  These owlhoots literally have the ranch brand in their skill. Afterward, Mason collides with Alice on main street, and they flash their revolvers at each other. She offers to let him stay with them. When Mason rides into town another day, the flour sack gang robs the freight office and Dad dies during the robbery. During the fracas, Mason swaps shots with the outlaws and catches a bullet. Alice doctors him back to health. Each time that Mason gets close to figuring out who the outlaws are, Rudd intervenes and kills them. During one robbery, an outlaw steals Ben's ring and Rudd confiscates the ring from him. Rudd gives the ring to his sister. Ben is sweet on Alice, and he gets jealous when he learns from Rudd that Alice and Mason are lovers.  Mason suspects something when he spots the ring on Alice's finger.  Later, to throw the scent off their trail, Rudd and his gunmen massacre Cochrane and his deputies in a meadow.

Miles and his scenarists have changed quite a bit from the John Wayne version of "Dawn Rider."  Not only does Mason have a reputation as a gunslinger from Cincinnati, but he has also spent time in a Mexican prison.  The John Wayne protagonist in the 1935 version was lily-white pure.  Miles' remake preserves the plot device involving McClure's ring, but adds the complication that drives Rudd to crime to pay off his debt.  Alice and Mason are old friends, too, unlike the couple in the Wayne original.  She sleeps with a revolver stashed under her pillow.  This plot device is introduced right after she nurses Mason and paid off later when one of Rudd's gunman tries to rape her. "Dawn Rider" benefits from fresh scenery, enough shoot-outs, and a twist at the end involving the shooting of Cochrane. 

FILM REVIEW OF ''LAST OF THE BAD MEN" (1957)

This half-baked horse opera about a gang of murderous villains that spring wanted men from hoosegows and then use them as front men when they commit crimes short-changes a clever premise and a solid cast of western veterans. The first fellow that they liberate from a frontier lock-up turns out to be a Chandler Detective Agency operative posing as a notorious outlaw. Such is their obsession with maintaining secrecy about their identities that these dastards display no qualms about killing either the jailers or anybody for that matter who may later recognize them. When this well-organized gang of thieves and killers stage their robberies, they wear bandannas over their faces, but they force their front men to appear barefaced, so the bounty on their heads escalates with each offense. When the bounty reaches an arbitrary dollar figure, the treacherous villains gun him down and collect the reward. Not only does the Chicago-based Chandler Detective Agency want to avenge the murder of one of their own agents, but they also plan to learn the identity of the criminal mastermind who keeps his identity a closely guarded secret from most of his accomplices.

Squared-jawed George Montgomery of "The Riders of the Purple Sage" is appropriately clean-shaven and virile as intrepid hero Dan Barton who risks life and limb to infiltrate and smash the gang as well as smoke out the criminal genius behind their wickedness. When Allied Artists released "Last of the Bad Men" in 1957, many urban crime thrillers of the late 1940s and the 1950s had relied on the gimmick of a voice-over narrator to enhance the authenticity of the action by supplying audiences with many facts that the filmmakers had previously depicted on screen. The elaborately detailed and wholly superfluous narrator in "Last of the Bad Men" sounds like a sports commentator. Virtually everything that he comments about is self-explanatory. Essentially, "Last of the Bad Men" has a "Dragnet" quality with its overabundance of facts. Unfortunately, while the narrator may bolster the so-called realism, he becomes extremely annoying at the same time. "MST3K" could have had a field day with this standard-issue oater.

Scenarists David T. Chantler and David B. Ullman penned the formulaic screenplay and it gets off to a decent enough start, but the plot unravels in the third act after the gang has broken out yet another jailbird, Kramer (Michael Ansara), a genuine owl-hoot unlike either Barton or his unfortunate predecessor. Chantler and Ullman were writing partners who specialized in television, but they collaborated on "Face of a Fugitive" (1959) a Frank MacMurray western. Principally, things go awry when the suspicious desperados try to flush out our hero after they have captured another Chandler Detective Agency operative, Roberts (Keith Larsen of "War Paint"), who had been keeping tabs on our cool-headed protagonist while the villains are holed up between jobs on a ranch behaving as if they were law-abiding cowboys. Once the wily outlaw gang takes Barton as their quasi-prisoner, they keep him on a short leash. He isn't allowed to retain his revolver after a crime. Meaning, he cannot go anywhere without arousing their suspicions. Barton tries to contact a fellow Chandler Detective one evening and is nearly caught. Meanwhile, he sets about cultivating a friendship with another gang member who the others have come to regard as their weakest link. James Best of "The Dukes of Hazzard" stands out as a hapless cowboy-gone-bad by poor economic conditions that prompted him to turn to rustling cattle. Why the bad guys recruited him as a member of their elite gang is never sufficiently explained, just another of the flaws in the Chantler & Ullman screenplay. Meanwhile, director Paul Landres tries to generate suspense as the price on Barton's head rises while the gang frees yet another felon from jail. Indeed, as Barton's fate hangs in the balance, the Chandler Detective Agency grows even more alarmed. Nevertheless, we know there isn't chance Barton will bite the dust. Eventually, the bad guys discover Roberts is a Chandler Detective, and they offer Barton a chance to prove that he isn't a detective himself if he will gun down Roberts in cold blood. Suffice to say Barton wiggles out of this corner far too easily. A variety of veteran western character actors flesh out of the cast, among them Douglas Kennedy, John Doucette, Robert Foulk, Willis Bouchey, and Michael Ansara, later of TV's "The Westerners." Decked out in a pink dance-hall dress, Meg Randall is the only female in sight, and she is strictly a supporting cast member.Squared-jawed George Montgomery of "The Riders of the Purple Sage" is appropriately clean-shaven and virile as intrepid hero Dan Barton who risks life and limb to infiltrate and smash the gang as well as smoke out the criminal genius behind their wickedness. When Allied Artists released "Last of the Bad Men" in 1957, many urban crime thrillers of the late 1940s and the 1950s had relied on the gimmick of a voice-over narrator to enhance the authenticity of the action by supplying audiences with many facts that the filmmakers had previously depicted on screen. The elaborately detailed and wholly superfluous narrator in "Last of the Bad Men" sounds like a sports commentator. Virtually everything that he comments about is self-explanatory. Essentially, "Last of the Bad Men" has a "Dragnet" quality with its overabundance of facts. Unfortunately, while the narrator may bolster the so-called realism, he becomes extremely annoying at the same time. "MST3K" could have had a field day with this standard-issue oater.

Scenarists David T. Chantler and David B. Ullman penned the formulaic screenplay and it gets off to a decent enough start, but the plot unravels in the third act after the gang has broken out yet another jailbird, Kramer (Michael Ansara), a genuine owl-hoot unlike either Barton or his unfortunate predecessor. Chantler and Ullman were writing partners who specialized in television, but they collaborated on "Face of a Fugitive" (1959) a Frank MacMurray western. Principally, things go awry when the suspicious desperados try to flush out our hero after they have captured another Chandler Detective Agency operative, Roberts (Keith Larsen of "War Paint"), who had been keeping tabs on our cool-headed protagonist while the villains are holed up between jobs on a ranch behaving as if they were law-abiding cowboys. Once the wily outlaw gang takes Barton as their quasi-prisoner, they keep him on a short leash. He isn't allowed to retain his revolver after a crime. Meaning, he cannot go anywhere without arousing their suspicions. Barton tries to contact a fellow Chandler Detective one evening and is nearly caught. Meanwhile, he sets about cultivating a friendship with another gang member who the others have come to regard as their weakest link. James Best of "The Dukes of Hazzard" stands out as a hapless cowboy-gone-bad by poor economic conditions that prompted him to turn to rustling cattle. Why the bad guys recruited him as a member of their elite gang is never sufficiently explained, just another of the flaws in the Chantler & Ullman screenplay. Meanwhile, director Paul Landres tries to generate suspense as the price on Barton's head rises while the gang frees yet another felon from jail. Indeed, as Barton's fate hangs in the balance, the Chandler Detective Agency grows even more alarmed. Nevertheless, we know there isn't chance Barton will bite the dust. Eventually, the bad guys discover Roberts is a Chandler Detective, and they offer Barton a chance to prove that he isn't a detective himself if he will gun down Roberts in cold blood. Suffice to say Barton wiggles out of this corner far too easily. A variety of veteran western character actors flesh out of the cast, among them Douglas Kennedy, John Doucette, Robert Foulk, Willis Bouchey, and Michael Ansara, later of TV's "The Westerners." Decked out in a pink dance-hall dress, Meg Randall is the only female in sight, and she is strictly a supporting cast member.
Veteran TV director Paul Landres keeps the action moving along swiftly enough (it's only 79 minutes) with the inevitable western town shoot-out at the end that reveals the identity of the chief villain. If the earlier scene where Barton got out of a tough spot weren't mediocre, the ending where the bad guy gets revealed is unintentionally awful. Anybody in their right mind would have cleared out of town long before he got caught in a lie by his fellow townspeople. At least, Chantler and Ullman plant a minor red herring, but savvy moviegoers will spot the dead giveaway moment long before the chief villain receives his comeuppance. "Last of the Bad Men" is at best fair as westerns go, but inferior as a mystery. Ellsworth Fredericks' Deluxe Color, widescreen Cinemascope photography makes this drab dustraiser look better than it really should have. Fredericks' credits include the original "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" and "Seven Days in May."