Fahrkarte ins Jenseits

Nice low-budget western with a script that's good by B-western standards, but not quite as good as the ones Kennedy cooked up for director Boetticher. This one has Scott as his usual character, seeking vengeance, but includes the twist that his vengeance turns out to be, in reality, meaningless. Good supporting performances, but the action isn't as convincing as in some of the other Ranown films -- although I did really like the "Spanish" getting stuck in his arm with a hay hook. Gruesome and suspenseful.

Lesser-known Randolph Scott Westerns occasionally find their way on to British TV, and this was one I hadn't seen before. It was generally good, but the opening sequences were curious. Bart Allison (Scott) is a passenger on a stagecoach and wants to get off in the middle of nowhere to meet up with his sidekick, Sam. Instead of asking the driver nicely, he threatens him with a gun; Britain's buses may not make unscheduled stops, but I'm sure there would have been no problem in the West! At least we get treated to some good facial expressions by Bart and the stagecoach crew after the former has fired his pistol to alert Sam; there's quite a timelag before he appears, during which Bart looks slightly apprehensive and the crew quizzical.

But then - talk about stacking the deck against himself! In town Bart confronts Tate Kimbrough surrounded by his heavies and has to flee from them and seek refuge in a building, which is then surrounded by the bad guys. How he finally extricates himself from the situation is reasonably plausible.

And thank goodness for a decent sidekick - no annoying grizzled old coot or comic Mexican here; Noah Beery does very well in the role.

Bart Allison and Sam, his trusty companion, ride into Sundown looking for a guy named Tate Kimbrough. It appears that Kimbrough had a dalliance with Allison's wife some years earlier, an affair that led to the suicide of the erstwhile Mrs. Allison. With revenge and hatred eating away at him, Allison will not rest until he gets his man, but his very being here in Sundown will be the catalyst for not only himself, but also every other resident of this dusky town.

Randolph Scott (Bart Allison) and director Budd Boetticher made seven very interesting and intelligent Westerns together, each man seemingly using each one as a muse of sorts. This particular entry on their wonderful resumes is a fine testament to their winning formula, for Decision At Sundown offers up something different outside of your standard Western fare. The plot structure is for sure very basic, the man out for revenge, and the town in the grip of less than honourable men, but here our main protagonist really isn't thinking with his head. He is driven by rage and an affair of the heart, he in fact doesn't care if he lives or dies, just as long as he gets his man! Also of interest is the effect on the town of Sundown that Allison has, it certainly lent me to think about some so called supernatural Westerns that would surface later on down the line, whilst the ending here doesn't resort to any sort of cop out formula, it's poignant and begs for a further train of thought.

Scott is first rate as Allison, grey hair personifying the wisdom that he has lost due to his blind thirst for revenge, he has a devilment glint that's evident in both of his eyes. Scott does an excellent line in rage and grief stricken acting, further cementing his reputation as a wonderful actor in the splendid Western filmic sphere. Backing Scott up is Noah Beery Jr (Sam) and John Archer as Dr. John Storrow, but of the rest of the cast I personally couldn't lend too much praise for, with the main negative of note being that the villains of the piece barely get out of grumpy only territory. John Carroll (Kimbrough) and Andrew Duggan as crooked Sheriff Swede Hansen really should have gone for a more twirling moustache type villainy than the underplayed ones that we actually get.

But underplayed villains be damned, this is still a hugely enjoyable picture, and one that definitely holds up on a repeat viewing whilst solidifying the top end genre status of Boetticher and Scott as a pairing. 7/10

This particular Budd Boetticher/Randolph Scott collaboration finds Scott as the meanest he ever was on the screen. At least since Coroner Creek where he played a similarly driven man on a vengeance quest against a man who killed his bride to be.

It's worse in Decision at Sundown. A few years earlier when Scott was away at war John Carroll took up with Scott's late wife. Now Randy with sidekick Noah Beery, Jr. has come into the town of Sundown looking to kill Carroll who has moved there and essentially taken over with his bought and paid for sheriff Andrew Duggan. Carroll by no coincidence I'm sure is getting married to Karen Steele that day, the daughter of a local rancher John Litel much to the dismay of Carroll's long time mistress Valerie French.

Scott interrupts the wedding and then he and Beery are trapped in a barn. While all this is going on a lot of the townsfolk who have let Carroll and his bully boys run roughshod over them start reexamining what's happened to their town.

Decision at Sundown shows Randolph Scott as the ugliest he ever was on the screen. He's a pretty mean hero in Coroner Creek as Chris Danning. But his character of Bart Allison in this film makes Danning look like a Boy Scout.

I can't say any more, you'll just have to see the rather unusual ending in this film and how it works out for Scott and the rest of the town of Sundown.

Let's just say he changed everyone's life, but his own.

This one differs from the other Scott-Boetticher westerns as the action is transferred to an urban setting. In `Decision…', Scott's usual ambiguity is on the edge of plain craze and self destruction, his hero qualities lowered, the character's failures pretty much on the open. In this fable about the winning or recovery of Self Respect, he's the most spitted type of the film, in opposition to the bad guy, who remains unchanged despite his moral contradictions (at one point he admits to the prostitute that he's afraid, as Scott character does at one point or another in every other film of the saga). Boetticher is a master of understatement, a craftsman with an ascetic economy. Every shot is right; every cut contributes to the progress of narration. We perceive the performers' inner thoughts so they can talk about something else. The philosophic exchanges, a trademark of the director, take place not with a round of coffee by the fire but inside the saloon (that looks like a Temple, while the church is presented as a saloon), or in the restaurant, but Scott doesn't take part. He's the sort character that seems to carry unwarily a sort of magnetism, a quality which makes everybody deposit on him their own fears and expectations. A mundane redemptive figure seen on later films, like the motorcycle guy in `Rumble Fish'. All the characters are able to verbalize and unveil the hero's conscience, everybody but the hero himself, tragically crusaded on a meaningless task.

`Decision…' anticipates the enclosure of `Rio Bravo', and other later westerns where the hero must overcome a tormented past, purify himself in order to purify a corrupted environment. Randolph Scott's hard features convey the primitivism of the Boetticher hero perfectly; here we discover a certain apish side of his face, something that the director's camera recognizes and photographs to emphasize his storytelling. Even if not written by usual collaborator Burt Kennedy, one of the cowboys still say the polite `I'm obliged', and as in every other Boetticher western, Mexicans are played by real Mexicanos.