Yesterday, I watched COLT .45 (1950), a color Western from Warner Brothers starring Randolph Scott. Scott, a favorite actor of mine, is good as usual but his best work in westerns didn’t occur until six years later when he worked with director Budd Boetticher in 7 MEN FROM NOW in 1956. And in a weird coincidence, two westerns with gun related titles were both released in 1950. While COLT .45 is a standard B western, WINCHESTER 73, directed by Anthonly Mann and starring James Stewart is far and away the superior film.
In COLT .45, Scott stars as a gun seller representing the new Colt .45 six-shooter, a gun that played a major part in the Civil War. He wants to sell his wares to lawmen throughout the American west before opening up sales to the general public. Within a matter of minutes from the start of the film, the twin pistols are stolen by bad guy (and one time Austin resident) Zachary Scott (no relation to Randolph), who goes on a crime spree with his crew of desperados (dubbed the .45s gang). Zachary has a field day with this role, playing it with mustache twirling villainy. Scott, an innocent man, gets jailed for several months while Zach terrorizes the territory. He’s eventually released and goes after the bad guys.
Zach’s gang includes Lloyd Bridges (who delivers a great performance as a today to Zach) who is married to Ruth Roman. It’s Bridges, a gold miner, who concocts a scheme for Zach and his men to take over an entire town. There’s also a crooked sheriff (played by Alan Hale Sr.). Randolph is aided in his quest by a friendly tribe of native Americans, who want revenge on the outlaw white men but are willing to follow Randolph’s lead. And when Bridges is killed, Roman shows her sand as a competent woman of action, not some helpless damsel needing to be rescued.
Randolh takes a ton of punishment in the course of the action. He’s stabbed with a knife, hit over the head multiple times and just generally roughed up throughout the film. But he prevails against Zach in the end, putting an end to the bad man’s reign of terror.
COLT .45 is a splendid example of the kind of programmers that Hollywood studios were still cranking out in the 1950s. It’s solid and exciting enough while it lasts but it’s also forgettable. There are no thematic concerns warranting a reassessment by present day film scholars. That honor definitely belongs to WINCHESTER 73. But hey, it’s Randloph Scott whose best work was yet to come.
Leave a comment