Le vengeur agit au crépuscule

While the western genre is not my favourite one of all film genres (not sure which one is my favourite due to trying to appreciate them all the same), there is a lot of appreciation for it by me. There are a lot of very good to great films, with the best work of John Ford being notable examples.

In the late 50s, starting in 1956 with 'Seven Men from Now' and right up to 1960 with 'Comanche Station', lead actor Randolph Scott collaborated with director Budd Boetticher in seven films. For me, 1957's 'Decision at Sundown' is one of their weakest, even a strong contender for their weakest. By all means it is a long way from terrible, it has a lot of great elements and is actually pretty decent. It just isn't in the same league as the wonderful 'Seven Men from Now' and 'The Tall T' and doesn't have enough of what made those two so good.

Starting with the strengths, while not the best-looking of their outings, being smaller in scale and slightly too compact in its setting, 'Decision at Sundown' still looks pleasing. It is very nicely filmed, with some nice colour and atmosphere, and handsomely designed, it just lacks the visual grandeur of their best collaborations. The music has presence and fits nicely, while not being intrusive.

Boetticher directs efficiently and mostly the film goes at a pace that isn't pedestrian. Numerous parts are suspenseful and fun, with some well choreographed action and some moral complexity. The ending is unusual and unexpected, and very effective. Scott brings likeability, charisma and intensity to his role and he is well supported by Karen Steele (oozing glamour and charm), Noah Beery Jr (enjoying himself immensely and having the best of the fun moments), John Archer (nice authority) and Andrew Duggan (suitably snake-like).

However, Valerie French is rather bland and colourless in an underwritten role and lacking the charm and sometimes touching chemistry of Steele. John Carroll underplays his fairly one-dimensional villain, he's no Lee Marvin, Richard Boone or Claude Akins.

The script is too wordy, lacking the meat and tautness of the scripts of the best Scott/Boetticher films, and can preach and be too basic to make the most of its complex themes. There is not enough depth to the characters, with only Scott's hero being developed enough and even then his motivation should have been explored more and more gripping. The story has a lot of great moments, but there is also some credibility straining, overload of simplicity and lack of tautness.

In conclusion, decent but had the potential to be much better. 6/10 Bethany Cox

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.

Decision at Sundown (1957)

*** 1/2 (out of 4)

After the suicide of his wife, Bart Allison (Randolph Scott) makes it his goal to hunt down and kill the man he feels responsible. He finds Tate Kimbrough (John Carroll) in the small town of Sundown where he owns the sheriff (Andrew Duggan) and has the town frightened. Not to mention he shows up just as Tate is about to be married. It seems these Boetticher/Scott films weren't overly successful or popular when first released but over the past few years their reputations have really grown. There are a couple twists here that happens at the end of the film, which probably wouldn't go over too well back in 1957 but today I think people will be able to enjoy these more. This is certainly a western by all means but it's also a lot deeper than that and I think that's the reason these films keep getting more popular. The character study that involves Bart, Tate and the entire town makes for some suspenseful scenes and a lot of stuff to think about when it comes to men trying to seek revenge. Boetticher's direction is masterful as he does a terrific job at building tension from the opening scenes all the way to the end. The majority of the film has Scott held up in a barn, which is perfect because it gives the film a chance to visit and see the supporting characters and learn how they're going to have a major impact on the ending. The performances are also excellent with Scott leading the way in a role that isn't your typical hero. An anti-hero might be better because he is playing a very ugly character that doesn't have much charm. The way Scott lets the character's pain run free makes this the best work I've seen from him. Duggan is terrific as the snake sheriff and we get strong supporting performances by Carroll, Karen Steele and Valerie French. Noah Beery, Jr. is also excellent in his role as Scott's friend. Again, I'm sure people could debate the twists at the end but I think the make the film a lot more memorable. We've seen countless western's involving revenge so to see one that isn't done in a standard fashion is very refreshing.

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.