San Antonio

San Antonio is directed by David Butler and written by Alan Le May and W. R. Burnett. It stars Errol Flynn, Alexis Smith, Paul Kelly, S.Z. Sakall, Florence Bates and Victor Francen. Music is by Max Steiner and cinematography by Bert Glennon.

It's always interesting to compare Errol Flynn's Westerns, his work in a genre he was not overly fond of. Depending on your Western genre proclivities of course, there's a mix of the old fashioned type, where Errol flirts and is heroic, or the more serious ones where his heroism is underplayed. San Antonio is the former.

Plot has Flynn as Clay Hardin, who is the man who can prove that town impresario Roy Stuart (Kelly) is the man responsible for the rampant cattle rustling going on in the state. There's agendas gnawing away in the plot, romantic dalliances that bring the delightful Alexis Smith into prominence, and of course there's frothy comedy light relief - the proviso here is if Sakall and Bates' thing doesn't irritate you?

Flynn is ace, athletic with a handsomeness that's rarely been bettered in Hollywood, to which here he's on lovable rascal form, playing off of Smith with appealing skill. Smith is a strong foil for her leading man, holding her end up in both stern characteristics and comedy angles. While it's always great to find Kelly in a villain role, here getting his teeth into it for much viewing reward.

Unfortunately this really could have done with a better director, the blend of drama and comedy seemingly uneasy in Butler's hands. The big denouement between hero and villain is a damp squib, which is a shame as we are in the ruins of The Alamo, a poignant piece of architecture that positively demands a more extended and vigorous finale. Elsewhere, Glennon's photography is pleasing if lacking in exterior splendours, and Steiner's score will sound familiar to anyone already familiar with his work.

Gloriously pretty, vibrant and colourful, it's well weighted with good production values and a solid cast, but as fun as it is it does lack some urgency ingredients to be great. 7/10

While not the best of Flynn's westerns, San Antonio offers appealing players a lavish budget, and plenty of action. It was the Christmas offering from Warner Bros., and, perhaps due to the returning G.I.'s, the highest grossing film Flynn ever made (in its original release). Some good music helps, as does the chemistry between Errol and Alexis Smith. Raoul Walsh is uncredited for some of the direction, and I speculate the action scenes are those he worked on.

Once it was established that ERROL FLYNN could fit the mold of a western hero (even with his Australian/British accent), his studio wasted no time in putting him through the paces of several westerns, the best of which was DODGE CITY ('39). By the time he did SAN ANTONIO, all the western clichés were pretty well used up, so what we have here is a routine storyline that gives Flynn a chance to play another one of his suave western heroes who romances the local dance hall girl (ALEXIS SMITH) so we get a chance to hear a couple of pretty tunes along the way.

It's a shame that Warners had so little faith in Alexis' singing prowess that they dubbed her voice for the musical interludes. She went on to become an accomplished dancer/singer on Broadway in the years ahead. Nicest number is "Some Sunday Morning" which actually got an Oscar nomination as Best Song.

The usual cast of competent Warner contract players is evident once again: John Litel, S.Z. Sakall, Paul Kelly, Tom Tyler (wasted in a small role), Florence Bates and Victor Francen. Conspicuously missing is Alan Hale, who usually played Flynn's sidekick.

With a jaunty score by Max Steiner (who borrows his own title theme from DODGE CITY), this is the kind of western you've seen many times before, but enhanced by some of the nicest Technicolor and set decorations to be seen in any Warner film of this period.

Errol Flynn fans will enjoy it as one of his lesser excursions into the western genre. Fast moving and breezy entertainment.

Clay Hardin (Errol Flynn) is returning to . . . Where else? San Antonio! And he has evidence to convict a crooked cattle boss. But will he live to present it to the cavalry?

Flynn, a Texan by way of Tasmania, does nothing to disguise his accent. Who cares? We paid to see Flynn, not some actor.

Typical western tropes are on display: a saloon, for instance, large enough to hold a political convention.

S. Z. Sakall rides along for comic relief. It would be nice to see a few of Flynn's old companions, but alas. Doodles Weaver, however, pops up as a dance caller.

By 1945 Flynn is no longer young. He fought a hard war on the Warner soundstages. But the old Flynn charm is turned up full-force against saloon singer Alexis Smith, a strange-looking actress but hardly repellant.

On the good side we see a genuine rarity, a cow poke with a parrot (used for one joke). Then there's the lovely standard "One Sunday Morning."

And we get a glimpse or two of the Alamo. In 1945, after a hard-fought war against Hitler and his ilk, when so many Americans had loved ones buried abroad in the fight for worldwide freedom (including brothers of both my grandmother and grandfather), such reminders of American bravery and independence were heartening. And Flynn's character exemplified the ongoing American defiance to all little Hitlers.

"San Antonio" is not on anyone's list of the greatest movies ever made. But it's no disappointment for Flynn fans.

"San Antonio" is a lively movie, with a lot going for it: two very attractive leads who look good together, beautiful Technicolor, enjoyably unsubtle and melodic Max Steiner score, good villains. It's a Saturday-afternoon kind of film, best accompanied with a bucket of buttered popcorn. The script isn't inspired, but it moves, and the big fight sequence toward the end is quite spectacular and well choreographed, and made me really appreciate the contributions of stunt players in this kind of film.

Alexis Smith is gorgeous and well-costumed, if a bit reserved, and gets to lip-sync two very pretty songs. There was always something very identifiable about Warner Bros. orchestration for musical numbers--a cheeky brassiness. Errol Flynn is characteristically cheeky in his own slightly self-mocking way, as when he carries on a conversation while interspersing it with bits of a romantic song, also strumming a guitar. Florence Bates does a reprise of her "mentor to the female lead" from "Saratoga Trunk." Victor Francen and Paul Kelly make a good, hissable pair of bad guys.