Día de justicia

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

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.

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.

This often ignored Randy Scott western, directed by Budd Boetticher, plays almost as a dark comedy at times, though that is not the intent of the director or the writers. Scott, fine actor he was, makes every line count, enunciating effectively for full impact. He and his long-time pal--it's hinted they served together in the Confederacy during the Civil War--meet up just outside a town appropriately named Sundown. Bart Allison (Randy Scott) points his rifle at the stagecoach drivers after forcing them to let him off and tells them to get going because he and his friend Sam (Noah Beery Jr.), who just showed up to give him his horse, are headed a different direction. No sooner do they reach Sundown than they make enemies and friends by letting it be known that they do not like the groom in a wedding that's about to take place. When asked by the justice of the peace if anyone has a reason why the wedding shouldn't take place, Allison warns the groom that he is going to kill him. Then all Hell breaks loose. Allison and Sam run to the livery stable and hold up there for a large part of the movie. In the process Allison learns more than he wants to know about his deceased wife whose death he blames on the erstwhile groom.

The groom Tate Kimbrough (John Carroll) controls Sundown and the law. John Carroll was sort of a poor man's Clark Gable. Usually his acting was somewhat mediocre but when given the right part he could make it shine. One of his best roles was in the B western "Old Los Angeles" starring Wild Bill Elliott where he played a two-faced gunslinger who wormed his way to the top. Carroll does a topnotch job in "Decision at Sundown" in particular toward the end when he's determined to face Allison rather than be run out of town. The cast, made up of many film veterans such as Bob Steele, John Litel (Nancy Drew's father), Ray Teal, and Guy Wilkerson, makes a good showing. Karen Steele, who plays the frustrated bride, turns in a good performance, especially when she confronts Allison in the livery stable.

The title "Decision at Sundown" is a bit misleading. Really it should be "Decisions at Sundown," because the crux of the story centers on the denizens of the little community making their on decisions rather than be at the mercy of Tate Kimbrough and his henchmen. Yet even Kimbrough must make a momentous decision. At times the decisions made are deadly ones, such as when Sam decides to tell Allison the truth about his wife. THE decision of the title refers to Allison's. Or is it indecision? That depends on how the viewer interprets Allison's motives and moves. What he finally decides is probably the only way out for him. The best decisions are made by the citizens of Sundown. Allison and Sam serve merely as catalysts