Corrientes traicioneras

Watching The River's Edge today put me in mind of The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre. Just imagine if one of those treasure hunters had been a woman on the trip. Think they had problems then?

Ray Milland is the Fred C. Dobbs of the piece. Only he's not looking for gold, he's got a valise with a lot of money in cash. A notorious grifter he's on the run and headed for his former girlfriend Debra Paget. He wants the services of her current husband Anthony Quinn who is a guide and tracker to take him across the Mexican border and away from the law.

Given Paget's beauty and her involvement with both of these men you can imagine what a tense trip this was. Milland commits two murders along the way, that of a US Border Patrolmen and Chubby Johnson an old prospector

Like The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre 90% of the film is focused on the three leads. At no time is anyone truly sure of how they stand with each other. Paget the most confused of all, she loves her husband Quinn in her own way, but Milland is the guy who always scratched her itch.

In the end what happens to Milland is almost eerily reminiscent of what happened to Humphrey Bogart in the previous film. And as I wrote in my review of The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre, God really does have a sense of humor.

Excepting Debra Paget's gams, this foray into film is utterly legless. Mistitled and--in Ray Milland's case--miscast, the simple-minded, sometimes illogical story schlepps along so listlessly that viewers might well wish for a protagonist's demise just to end the misery! The derelict direction employs gratuitous scenes of Paget enveloped in tamely titillating beach towels, a bubble bath, and a cleavageless slip. She carries it all off as best she can and is actually credible as an ex-con in a marriage of convenience. Anthony Quinn, whose role was probably intended as a dumb-ox rancher, exudes such sexuality and smarts that the city gal/country guy dichotomy seems not so dubious. Middle-aged Milland, however, as a hot property Paget cannot resist, pulls the rug out from the whole plot. He moves through the movie like a somnambulist--and can scarcely be scolded for doing so!

Those who think of Ray Milland as a skilled light comedian or an amiable drunk will be surprised by his work in this late Allan Dwan entry. He's mean as can be in this one, and the best thing in the movie, making Anthony Quinn look weak by comparison; not an easy thing to do, but Ray pulls it off with style. Debra Paget is an asset as well in this trim, modest film.

Sleekly gorgeous Debra Paget looks about as comfortable on a hardscrabble ranch as Paris Hilton would in a convent. No wonder she takes off with former boyfriend Ray Milland when he shows up at the door. At least he likes money better than scruffy cattle. Pity grimy husband Anthony Quinn left in the dust when the shower doesn't work, the oven blows up, and he shows more concern for calf serum than a night on the town. But then, as we find out, things are not as uncomplicated as they look.

Interesting if not very believable melodrama. The first half presents intriguing mind games between the three main characters, but bogs down in the last third. Nonetheless, the story strays some distance from the usual, with a few unexpected twists and turns. Milland's character is certainly not geared to winning new fan club members, while Paget standing around in her underwear shows why the real life Howard Hughes reserved a special cottage for her.

The movie must have cost a $1.80 to make since hardly anyone gets on screen but the threesome, while the action takes place either somewhere in the boondocks or on a cheap outdoor set. And when Paget runs from a speeding car to the safety of a cornfield, I wondered if the writer of North by Northwest was taking notes. Had the script played up the mind games to the end, we might have had a real sleeper. But the early promise settles in for a more conventional wind up; at the same time, the last scene borrows from the ironical caper film The Killing from the year before. All in all, I expect an obscure film like this has gotten a much bigger audience from cable TV than it ever got in theatres. A must-see for fans of cult director Allan Dwan.

Harold Jacob Smith co-adapted his own short story "The Highest Mountain" about a cattle rancher near the Mexico border who reluctantly harbors a fugitive; seems the rancher's new bride was once a pushover for this manicured killer, and now she's involved with him again. Handsomely-produced, sloppily-directed crime-drama with western applets doesn't seem to have anywhere to go after the set-up is clear. A few senseless murders don't do much to enhance Ray Milland's crook-in-a-suit (he's passable, but that's all); Debra Paget isn't bad as the fiery woman caught between the two men, however Anthony Quinn's performance in the lead strikes gold. Alternately a big brother and a daddy-bear husband to Paget, Quinn knows exactly how to handle this scenario, and never overplays. One comes away wanting to know more about this character and hoping he'll be all right--and that's solely due to Quinn's acting. The cinematography and the score (which pushes the oldie "You'll Never Know" a bit strenuously) are both classy, but director Allan Dwan doesn't know how to stage this showdown, and occasionally one loses patience. ** from ****