The Parson and the Outlaw

Anthony Dexter plays a back-from-the-grave Billy the Kid in this odd western about a greedy landowner (slick Robert Lowery) and his right hand man (Sunny Tufts, bravely trying to disguise his New England accent) trying to maintain control over their fiefdom by denying the locals the chance to be annexed by Texas. Billy has had good buddy Pat Garrett pretend to kill him, and has hung up his guns to retire to his old homestead, which--you guessed it--is stuck plum in the middle of this land war. The meek local folks are represented by crusading newspaperman Matt McCloud (Ed Wood regular Kenne Duncan), his beautiful daughter (Madalyn Trahey, who clearly belongs in the 'where are they now?' category), and preacherman Jericho Jones (the appropriately cast Buddy Rogers, who also produced the film). When McCloud is murdered, the townsfolk need a hero to save them...and guess who's available. The Parson and the Outlaw was shot in rich colors which look great, especially when contrasted with the stock footage of wild animals, wagon trains, and fires shoehorned into the feature, and the film also features a very strange soundtrack by Joe Sodja, a Cleveland born banjo player whose score seems to be played on either a zither or a slack key guitar. It's odd to say the least.

I was expecting to see Billy the Kid, Buffalo Bill, Frank and Jesse James, Dalton gang, Wild Bill Hickock.... Why not, in this kind of junk, we can expect the unexpected. This is an ordinary western, drowned among thousands of others from this period, and not only. Even in the thirties, the likes of Lambert Hillyer or George Archainbaud or Lesley Selander could do the same. Factory mode made westerns. It is amusing to watch and good entertainment, no matter the rest, forget acting, directing, even the story. It is on the same scale as AC Lyles productions, except that here you have not Hollywood has beens.

Billy the Kid tries to live in peace under a new name in a frontier town, but he is soon approached by a preacher who asks for his help in freeing the town from the ruthless Colonel Morgan and his gunman Jack Slade.

What if Billy the kid faked his death, thanks to Pat Garrett? What if he tries to settle down as a rancher? What if he lays off carrying a gun? Such ideas is not bad - it's a reimagining of what would happen if he tried to settle down and change his life but it wouldn't be a western if things did pan out for him. It's an odd western with odd characters and equally odd music (annoying banjo strumming, mainly off key) , but there's some interesting elements such as the religious overtones, the dialogue and an odd atmosphere. It's sort of watchable, however there's a certain sluggishness and lifelessness. It's just the oddness that keeps you oddly watching on. If you are an odd western aficionado then you would probably want to check it out.

This is a workmanlike Western that imagines what might have happened if the famous outlaw Billy the Kid faked his (most likely) real death, with the aid of Sheriff Pat Garret, and tried to live a normal life. Naturally, there wouldn't be much of a story if things indeed turned out normally, so these are the "new" adventures of Billy the Kid. Does he really hang up his guns? What do you think?

This is a completely uneven film. The score switches from banjo music, to what sounds like zither music (as in "The Third Man," though not nearly as good), to organ music appropriate for a funeral, to a purely 1950's ballad sung in a church. There is stock footage throughout that is incredibly jarring because it is of such low quality (if they show that house burning one more time....), and some of the shots look like they were done with a low-quality hand-camera. But the majority of the film is in brilliant color and a feast for the eyes.

Several of the actors remind me of other, more well-known personalities. Sonny Tufts, first an ally then an enemy of Billy, kept me thinking of James Arness of "Gunsmoke" fame, while the man playing the heavy, Robert Lowery, looks for all the world like George Clooney. Marie Windsor steals every scene in which she appears, and makes eating an apple look orgasmic. Anthony Dexter, as Billy, wasn't much of an actor, looking self-conscious throughout (the opening scene is particularly grating), but, especially in his attire, kept reminding me of Roy Rogers (in his acting, he doesn't sing). The "Indians" are portrayed in that classic Western way as simple enemies that must have been wearing thin even by 1957.

Don't expect too much, this is by-the-numbers with overly obvious symbolism that some may find grating (such as when the "Parson" of the title, who isn't even that big a character, is annoyingly put into a certain Christ-like position). I would watch the very similar and vastly better "Chisum" over this film. But still, this is a solid Western with interesting elements that you may well enjoy.

There's nothing deadlier than a western that fails to come alive.

Maybe it's the pedestrian script, the sluggish direction, the actors who all look bored with their roles--but THE PARSON AND THE OUTLAW never comes alive despite some rough and tumble moments and some shootouts between Billy the Kid (ANTHONY DEXTER) and the henchmen of badman ROBERT LOWERY involved in some kind of land dispute.

MARIE WINDSOR drifts in and out of the story with a thick Mexican accent that never seems less than phony and is playing hard at being a hot-tempered gal who sets her sights on Dexter the moment she sees him. SONNY TUFTS has a thankless role as a gunslinger who wishes he could have met up with Billy the Kid (whom he thinks is dead) so he could put some slugs into him. Tufts has never looked more bored with a role, even when he's doing his quick on the trigger act.

Between the slow pace and the uninspired direction, along with a banal script, THE PARSON AND THE OUTLAW never has a chance. The outdoor scenes are photographed skillfully and look good in color, but there are some obvious stock shots used that are blurry and poorly photographed.

The supporting cast includes CHARLES "BUDDY" ROGERS and JEAN PARKER, both of whom are saddled with bland roles as a parson and his wife which they play without a hint of enthusiasm.