Le vengeur agit au crépuscule

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.

This particular Budd Boetticher/Randolph Scott collaboration finds Scott as the meanest he ever was on the screen. At least since Coroner Creek where he played a similarly driven man on a vengeance quest against a man who killed his bride to be.

It's worse in Decision at Sundown. A few years earlier when Scott was away at war John Carroll took up with Scott's late wife. Now Randy with sidekick Noah Beery, Jr. has come into the town of Sundown looking to kill Carroll who has moved there and essentially taken over with his bought and paid for sheriff Andrew Duggan. Carroll by no coincidence I'm sure is getting married to Karen Steele that day, the daughter of a local rancher John Litel much to the dismay of Carroll's long time mistress Valerie French.

Scott interrupts the wedding and then he and Beery are trapped in a barn. While all this is going on a lot of the townsfolk who have let Carroll and his bully boys run roughshod over them start reexamining what's happened to their town.

Decision at Sundown shows Randolph Scott as the ugliest he ever was on the screen. He's a pretty mean hero in Coroner Creek as Chris Danning. But his character of Bart Allison in this film makes Danning look like a Boy Scout.

I can't say any more, you'll just have to see the rather unusual ending in this film and how it works out for Scott and the rest of the town of Sundown.

Let's just say he changed everyone's life, but his own.

This often ignored Randy Scott western, directed by Budd Boetticher, plays almost as a dark comedy at times, though that is not the intent of the director or the writers. Scott, fine actor he was, makes every line count, enunciating effectively for full impact. He and his long-time pal--it's hinted they served together in the Confederacy during the Civil War--meet up just outside a town appropriately named Sundown. Bart Allison (Randy Scott) points his rifle at the stagecoach drivers after forcing them to let him off and tells them to get going because he and his friend Sam (Noah Beery Jr.), who just showed up to give him his horse, are headed a different direction. No sooner do they reach Sundown than they make enemies and friends by letting it be known that they do not like the groom in a wedding that's about to take place. When asked by the justice of the peace if anyone has a reason why the wedding shouldn't take place, Allison warns the groom that he is going to kill him. Then all Hell breaks loose. Allison and Sam run to the livery stable and hold up there for a large part of the movie. In the process Allison learns more than he wants to know about his deceased wife whose death he blames on the erstwhile groom.

The groom Tate Kimbrough (John Carroll) controls Sundown and the law. John Carroll was sort of a poor man's Clark Gable. Usually his acting was somewhat mediocre but when given the right part he could make it shine. One of his best roles was in the B western "Old Los Angeles" starring Wild Bill Elliott where he played a two-faced gunslinger who wormed his way to the top. Carroll does a topnotch job in "Decision at Sundown" in particular toward the end when he's determined to face Allison rather than be run out of town. The cast, made up of many film veterans such as Bob Steele, John Litel (Nancy Drew's father), Ray Teal, and Guy Wilkerson, makes a good showing. Karen Steele, who plays the frustrated bride, turns in a good performance, especially when she confronts Allison in the livery stable.

The title "Decision at Sundown" is a bit misleading. Really it should be "Decisions at Sundown," because the crux of the story centers on the denizens of the little community making their on decisions rather than be at the mercy of Tate Kimbrough and his henchmen. Yet even Kimbrough must make a momentous decision. At times the decisions made are deadly ones, such as when Sam decides to tell Allison the truth about his wife. THE decision of the title refers to Allison's. Or is it indecision? That depends on how the viewer interprets Allison's motives and moves. What he finally decides is probably the only way out for him. The best decisions are made by the citizens of Sundown. Allison and Sam serve merely as catalysts

Here is a Western that is far above the majority made in the 1950's, and man there were quite a number, that has as much to do about character, motivation, morality, and other deep concerns, not found in a typical trip to the nineteenth century with cowboys and outlaws.

In fact, this is one of those that forsakes the usual focus on the landscape and moves the action to indoors because we are going inside the minds of all the characters and there is nothing open about their thought process, until they make a decision to see themselves as they really were, slaves in Sundown.

There are many players and they all have a part in the drama and sometimes it is amazing that so much could be done in less than 90 minutes. There is much sermonizing and this tale of revenge and soul searching is, nonetheless, another in the highly entertaining and thought provoking films in the Boetticher-Scott stable. Although it seems smaller in comparison to some of the others, it is just as big, and it is just as expansive, only this time it opens the mind and sheds sunlight on the soul.

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.