West of the Divide

I was a TV addict at a very early age. I lived with my grandparents, and my grandfather and I used to fight over what to watch on his television. He loved westerns; we watched "Cheyenne," and "Wyatt Earp," and "Rifleman," and numerous others during the fifties. I didn't quite share his enthusiasm for these shows, but it was a way to pass the time with him. But after seeing "The West Divide," I know why he loved westerns so. Some may refer to it as a B movie, but I think the B stands for basic. There's something thrilling about its lack of artifice. The sound of fists connecting to flesh doesn't have that ungodly amplification that later, more technically sophisticated examples of the genre had. The sentiment is rarefied like the open air. When the heroine is shot, it's played out plainly and purely; sometimes you can get a stronger emotional effect without a musical score. And the sequence with the runaway team is bracing; I figure the legendary Yakima Canutt stunted in this scene.

And then there is the young John Wayne. I think it is during this period in his career that he proved himself to be the giant star he became. When he dons white buckskin in "The Telegraph Trail," he becomes almost otherworldly. Here he plays a man posing as an outlaw to find the killer of his father. By the time he has set things right, lying supine in his long-lost brother's arms, you understand why so many moviegoers couldn't get enough of him. His entire body in that moment gives way to the scene, and you cherish how tenderly and passionately he's willing to play his part. This movie taps into that well of memories some of us have with family and loved ones, and as Father's Day is tomorrow, it helps remind me what deep, elemental emotion men often feel that these days goes unacknowledged. I certainly wasn't aware of it in those days with my grandfather; but I've gained a new consciousness that has come with my being about his age at the time and watching things I know he'd have loved. Like "The West Divide." It makes you wish they made more westerns like this one.

John Wayne stars as Ted Hayden in this one, lithe young companion of grizzled old George 'Gabby' Hayes, who was just starting to develop into the character now so familiar to Hopalong Cassidy fans. Ted is an orphan, left for dead by the varmints who done fer his paw, and saved from beneath his father's dead body by Hayes' Dusty Rhodes. All this – and much more – is related to the viewer in the opening scene, a conversation between the pair that is nothing but a huge chunk of exposition that is as lacking in subtlety as it is replete with information. Hayden has returned to his hometown to catch the man with the mad laugh who killed his father, and poses as Gat Ganns, all-round bad egg, who bears more than a passing physical resemblance to our hero.

This is a fairly acceptable entry in John Wayne's Lone Star series of films made in the early to mid-thirties. There is quite a diverting storyline, even though the acting is as creaky as usual for these flicks. It's the stunts that stand out in all of the low budget efforts Wayne made in those days, and their success is thanks to stuntman extraordinaire Yakima Canutt. You get the impression as you watch that some real hair-raising risks were taken to capture these scenes – and you sometimes wonder whether it was worth it considering the poor quality of most other aspects of the films. Watch out for Canutt standing in for bad guy Lloyd Whitlock, who sports a full head of greying hair, in the fight with Wayne near the end of the film. Canutt had dark hair and a noticeable bald patch, but hack director R. N. Bradbury obviously didn't believe in going to the expense of making even a perfunctory effort to disguise the actors' physical differences. Oddly enough, it's this kind of lack of attention to detail that make the Lone Star films so curiously endearing.

John Wayne and George Hayes come back to the place where Wayne spent his childhood in order to find out who killed his father and what became of his baby brother twelve years earlier. Wayne and Hayes then go undercover to stop a group of ranch thieves.

There's a few good scenes and a decent climax in this entry in Wayne's Lone Star western series but mostly this is middle of the road entertainment with a bit too much talking and not enough action this time around.

However, this does have some better-than-usual acting for the series. Duke and Gabby's performances are also quite likable, as is the actor that played Wayne's young friend.

I bought this film because a book I read stated that it was the first

film that was important in the development of the "Gabby" (George)

Hayes character who was so enjoyable in the Hopalong Cassidy &

Roy Rogers (& others) films of the 1930s & 1940s. Hayes here

plays a character named "Dusty." He has a scruffy, grizzled look,

but doesn't yet have the beard that came later. Hayes has the

same voice & intonation as he used later, but engages in none of

the comedic antics that where such a big part of his "Gabby"

character. Is it a coincidence that John Wayne rides a white horse,

wears a big 10 gallon black hat & black shirt, & has the same

sidekick as Hopalong Cassidy did, all two years before Hoppy got

started in the movies? The Hopalong Cassidy movie character

seems to bear more resemblance to John Wayne in this movie

than he does to the Hoppy character as portrayed in the Clarence

Mulford books! Blooper: John Wayne's kid brother calls him "Dad"

in one scene! This is an enjoyable film, especially if you like Gabby

Hayes. What ruined it for me was a new soundtrack (basically,

swirling organ music) that was unnecessary & detracted from the

movie. I have the SONY release, copyrighted 1985 by Fox/Lorber,

so beware of that version if you like your old movies to be

unadulterated, as I do.

Frequently used story gets a good presentation here in "West of the Divide," and the excellent cast helps ensure high quality.

Young John Wayne and grizzled George Hayes start with what I learned in college theater-history classes was called a "feather-duster" scene, where characters -- such as a maid, with a feather-duster -- tell the background of the story, today called "the back story."

It's kinda corny, but isn't too damaging.

Probably even in 1934 what was about to happen was predictable, but, before that predictable ending, enough happens in between it should hold the viewer's interest. It held mine.

When the hero meets the leading lady, there is no poor-writing instant romance. In fact, there is no real contact. It's an unusual boy-meets-girl.

That girl is Virginia Faire Brown, who is shown with 74 credits, although she never rose to be a major player and certainly not a star. But she is very attractive, even elegant, with an unusual dark-haired beauty.

Her character's father is played by the veteran Lafe McKee. The sheriff is by that veteran, and very talented actor, who didn't, alas, often enough get to show just how good an actor he was, Earl Dwire.

Chief bad guy is played by "Loyd Whitlock," who is usually known as Lloyd Whitlock, a very busy man with more than 200 credits!

OK, good story, great cast ably performing, lots of riding scenes, and a no-music-track realism that should keep you pinned to your seat. And if you want to see it, there's a good print at YouTube.