Silver River

Despite Stephen Longstreet and Harriet Frank's too verbose screenplay (was it really necessary to give Thomas Mitchell THREE condemnatory speeches of Errol Flynn when one would do?) and noted action director Raoul Walsh's obvious discomfort with examining the vicissitudes of the passionless Ann Sheridan/Bruce Bennet marriage to say nothing of trying to enliven business intrigue centered around cornering the silver market, I kind of enjoyed this rare foray of Flynn into anti hero-dom. Don't know whether it's because it mirrored what was going on in his private life or if he's just an under rated actor, but the guy does dark complexity of character rather well, in my opinion. Give it a B minus.

PS...The scene with U. S. Grant has to be the most superficial Hollywood portrayal of an American president until Pat McCormick essayed Grover Cleveland in Altman's "Buffalo Bill And The Indians", (another flawed but fun western).

This movie is a bit of a downer. The plot is hardly upbeat. It is a pessimistic story. Pessimistic stories can be engrossing-look at "The Treasure of Sierra Madre" for example-but, here, not all that much interesting happens. The performers do their usual shtick.. Sheridan, Bennett, and Mitchell are exactly the people you expect them to be, based on countless other movies. No great disadvantage, but no real advantage either.

Flynn is the main problem, but the problem is not with his looks. He appears older but still fit and handsome. He reads his lines and does his character well enough; his character is bitter and angry and cynical. But something very important is missing. The character is in no way likable. He is without humor, and, except for anger, without any juice, without any elan, without any positive emotion. We don't sympathize with him. We don't care if he repents.

Flynn looks unattractive because he plays an unattractive character. The movie has only a modicum of entertainment value primarily for this same reason.

A more mature western from a Stephen Longstreet novel traces the career of a rather corrupt adventurer (Flynn) who stops at nothing to assure himself of wealth in a rough and tough gambling town. He chases an attractive woman (Ann Sheridan) who becomes a widow fast when her husband is allowed to stray into Indian territory while they're on the warpath. He makes all sorts of deals to increase his wealth, betrays others right and left and refuses to heed the warnings of his drunken pal (Thomas Mitchell).

He only reforms at the last minute, in time for a happy ending. Much of the story stretches credibility a bit, especially when his drunken pal goes on to run for senator.

The Flynn-Sheridan combo makes the tale bearable but it's a little too long for comfort. Technicolor would have bolstered the handsome production values and given the film the A-production look it strives for. Evidently, Warners was afraid to give Errol the benefit of technicolor for this particular western.

Flynn gives an uneven performance--in some scenes subtle and convincing, in others seeming not to care. He's still handsome here but beginning to show signs of hard living. Ann Sheridan is her usual feisty self but their strained relationship at the start is a sure fire sign that they will soon be paired romantically.

No more than a conventional western yarn with some serious overtones, but it could have been so much better.

Bearing in mind its problematic production this western hasn't turned out too badly. By the time he made this Errol Flynn's halcyon days had gone and his stock with Warner Bros was pretty low. He was in his prime and still 'box office' but his lifestyle was beginning to take its toll and his behaviour to test everyone's patience. Of the last two westerns he made before the studio terminated his contract, this one is infinitely better than the second although that wouldn't be difficult!

His co-star Ann Sheridan was herself no stranger to 'the sauce' and by all accounts she and Flynn sat around drinking iced water laced with Vodka.

Moreover director Raoul Walsh excelled in action sequences and soon became impatient with the rather verbose script. It must be said that after the thrilling opening sequence the rest of the film is something of an anti-climax.

Despite all this there is a great deal to recommend this film and its momentum keeps one watching. The direction is taut, the editing by Alan Crosland Jr is razor sharp and maestro Miklos Rozsa has provided a magnificent score.

The performance that stands out is that of Thomas Mitchell. He is a drunk who first becomes Flynn's lawyer and finally becomes the voice of his conscience. His part is the best written and he steals all of his scenes.

There is alas no great chemistry between the two stars and the scenes where they fight are far more effective than those in which they love. Flynn plays his part of a morally ambiguous, self-made businessman with aplomb but Miss Sheridan looks distinctly disengaged and lacks conviction. She was singularly unimpressed with the finished product.

This is far from being a classic western but one is happy to accept its weaknesses in exchange for its strengths.

This Raoul Walsh's movie looks like a Republic western, most of them urban western taking place in Frisco in music halls, lobbies, or aboard a river boat more than a classic western shot in Death Valley. It is not what you could expect it to be, especially with Errol Flynn. It could have been written by an optimist Norman Mailer or Scott Fitzgerald, because this movie is not sad, not gloomy, saving a predictable ending for Hollywood standard. Good stuff for gem lovers. Not my Raoul Walsh's stuff for sure. And far too long for my taste.