Il temerario

Don't let the illfitted lurid title mislead you, this is a really good movie played serious, the kind of conventional in its arc but altogether engrossing drama old Hollywood used to make in its golden age. It may have little to offer in the way of lust but quite a lot of rodeo excitement. Robert Mitchum is worn-out bronco rider Jeff McCloud, once a rodeo legend and now a peniless drifter who drunk and gambled away the small fortune he made by falling out of horses' backs. He becomes attached to a man working as a cowhand in a nearby ranch and his lovely wife and soon convinces the man to make him as his rodeo mentor. What at first seems like quick easy money will soon prove to involve a whole lot more, from broken bones to broken marriages. This is a three-character drama that bounces off inside the triangle formed by washed-up, has-been bronco rider McCloud, the ambitious and reckless up-and-comer played by Arthur Kennedy and his wife (Susan Hayward) who desperately wants her husband off the rodeo business while he can still walk in one piece, all this seasoned for good measure with footage of bronco riding, bulldogging and what have you. Ray's direction is good, the rodeo setting provides an exotic backdrop of western Americana which should appeal to lovers of open vistas and wild landscapes and the performances are ace all around. Mitchum is at the top of his game playing the kind of character he could play with eyes closed. It was red-haired Susan Hayward who was the big revelation for me though. This was the first time I saw her in a movie but she enchants like few.

The movie's a real sleeper. Rodeos were never a popular theme for Hollywood, outside of Saturday matinées. Maybe that's why the studio came up with a misleading title that cheapens expectations. The movie certainly doesn't glamorize rodeo-ing. In fact, it's a pretty scathing look at both the inside and the outside. Jeff's (Mitchum) character is brilliantly conveyed early on as he drifts across the empty field along with other wind-blown discards. He's going back to his roots now that he's quit the circuit, with no other place to go.

So he hooks up with ambitious Wes (Kennedy) and his no-nonsense wife Louise (Hayward). For half of Wes's winnings, veteran rodeo-er Jeff can guide the talented newcomer as he joins the circuit. The trouble is Jeff is attracted to the loyal Louise even as Wes begins to live the fast life on his big winnings. Louise, however, only wants what she's always wanted-: a little spread of her and Wes's own where they can make a home. But Wes is forgetting those plans as he succumbs to the hard-partying of the rootless circuit. So, what will Louise do and just as importantly what will the love-lorn Jeff do now that the marrieds are growing apart.

The partying scenes are particularly well done, conveying just the right touches of cheap booze, loose women, and tall tales. Note that telling camera angle of the grizzled Booker (Hunnicutt) as he gazes up a shapely leg from floor level--- one shot can speak the proverbial volumes. Note too, the subtle way the script implies that trick-rider Rosemary has been sleeping-around, apparently an approved practice in these circles, contrary to the mores of the time (1952). Also, the shower scene when Al (Faylen) walks in is a neat bit of implied humor that depends on audience savvy for its chuckles. It's quite an intelligent screenplay, except for maybe the abrupt, but oddly satisfying, last scene.

Cult director Ray oversees with his usual artistic sensibility, though it looks like he was still suffering intermittent illness since an uncredited Robert Parrish gets a credited appearance from IMDb. And, of course, Mitchum is Mitchum, so low-key here it's hard to read his feelings at any point. No, in my little book, it's Susan Hayward's movie. By golly, she's escaped that dead-end tamale shop and nothing's going to stop her little dream. The guys may be physically tougher, but none can match her inner strength, and Hayward brings it all off in thoroughly convincing fashion. I can't conceive that the movie made money, as downbeat as it is. And I wonder what audiences lured in by the lurid title thought once they saw rodeo. Nonetheless, the film remains an outstanding example of movie-making in a minor key.

One of Robert Mitchum's best films from his days at RKO is The Lusty Men about the rodeo circuit. Mitchum plays Jeff McCloud a burned out rodeo rider who spots some potential star talent in Wes Merritt. He also spots Merritt's wife and the Merritts are played by Arthur Kennedy and Susan Hayward.

Mitchum's been thrown by one too many bulls and horses and he's a burned out man. Still the allure of the circuit holds him in sway. He mentors Kennedy until they come to a parting of the ways and not just over Susan Hayward. The part is a perfect fit for Mitchum, his own footloose past made him understand the character of Jeff McCloud and bring it to life.

This was the first of two films Mitchum did with Susan Hayward. She's clearly in support of him and she knows it. Her big moment on screen is dispatching a rodeo groupie at a party who had designs on Arthur Kennedy. Her footage had to be shot first, according to Lee Server's biography of Mitchum, as Hayward had a commitment in Africa to shoot The Snows of Kilimanjaro.

Among the supporting cast Arthur Hunnicutt, one of the biggest scene stealers around, is very good as another burned out rodeo rider. Mitchum looks at him and sees that is his future. In fact in the end, so does Kennedy.

The Lusty Men is a fine depiction of rodeo life, ranking up there with the later Junior Bonner and 8 Seconds. Good entertainment all around.

Yes, as one commenter noted, Susan Hayward seems a bit Eastern-glamorous to be kicking up dust on the rodeo circuit. But she glowers and snarls with the best of them, and, top-billed in this man's-man movie, she's great fun. But even she's dominated by a supremely confident and virile Robert Mitchum, as a has-been rodeo champ trying to turn her husband (a rather miscast, but hard-working, Arthur Kennedy) into a king of the saddle. It's location-filmed and has no traces of studio hackery, and Nicholas Ray keeps it wonderfully outdoorsy, with some fabulous stunt-riding footage and an authentic atmosphere of the hardscrabble rodeo life. The initial Hayward-Mitchum shower scene has to be one of the sexiest in all 1950s cinema, and there's a great sexual undercurrent to all their encounters. Kennedy seems a little pallid by comparison, and is playing a character that's hard to root for, but he does try hard. I didn't know this movie and am grateful to TCM for running it -- it's a real discovery. However, their print has awfully uneven sound, and you'll have to keep adjusting your volume up, down, up, down.

Fascinating, penetrating glimpse into the world of rodeo competitions and the often foolish lengths that men will go to prove their manhood. Superbly shot, written and acted, it's also a chance to see Robert Mitchum in top form. Criminally confident and cool, he absolutely carries the film despite exhibiting the demeanor of a man dozing in a hammock under a hot summer sun. Fed a steady diet of dead-on dialogue like "Never was a bull that couldn't be rode, Never was a cowboy that couldn't be throwed," and "Hope's a funny thing. A man can have it - even when there ain't no reason," he feasts with a wink and a smile. He and feisty Susan Hayward have great chemistry together and the movie is consistently eventful and exciting, with particularly realistic rodeo footage. (Maltin is right about the very last scene though - it does feel false.) By all means, seek it out - it's one of the most purely entertaining 1950's films I can recall.