The Halliday Brand

The specialist of cheap golden gems was without any discussion Joseph H Lewis, and not only for GUN CRAZY and TERROR IN A TEXAS TOWN - and several other pictures - but for this very one too. With so few dollars, he had the ability to offer us something amazingly powerful, inventive, surprising. And more, he gives here a wondeful character to play for Ward Bond; the character symphony between him and Joseph Cotten is so riveting, far from clichés. This is not the most widely known film, or even western, known from this so unfairly neglected director, but it deserves to be watched for western buffs.

Apart from some of the singing, I enjoyed "The Halliday Brand" quite a bit. While I am not normally a huge western fan, the Oedipal style story is timeless.

When the story begins, Martha (Betsy Blair) is carrying on a covert relationship with a man who is half American Indian. Her father, Big Dan (Ward Bond), is a bigot and so she's been hiding this from him. When he does find out, he's predictably furious...but what happens next shocks everyone. Soon Big Dan stirs up the locals and the boyfriend is murdered. Big Dan's son, Daniel (Joseph Cotten), is furious and naturally blames his father. But Big Dan isn't finished....his infamy seems to know no bounds. Soon, however, he's pushed Daniel so hard that Daniel makes it his life's work to destroy the man.

In many ways, this reminds me of one of the greatest westerns, "The Big Country". This film also is about the father-son relationship as well as two patriarchs who are too proud to bend in any way. Both should be watched...just try to ignore the moaning lady 'singing' some of the music...that "The Halliday Brand" could do without!

The same year that Ward Bond embarked on Wagon Train as Major Seth Adams the role that would give him star status at long last he did this rather grim western. The Halliday Brand casts him as both sheriff and local Ponderosa owner and he's one mean and bigoted man. His two sons Joseph Cotten and Bill Williams and daughter Betsy Blair are apples that have fallen far from the tree.

In fact Bond is even concerned about the sex lives of the ranch hands he employs and he and Cotten go to check out who Christopher Dark who is a mixed race person in the Halliday employ is shacking up with. Bond is horrified to learn that it's Blair and they want to get married.

Small wonder that when Dark is arrested on a rustling charge, sheriff Bond lets a lynch mob deal with Dark while he's conveniently out of town. Later on he kills Jay C. Flippen who is the father of Dark and of Viveca Lindfors who Cotten has a thing for.

I'm agreeing with the reviewer that said this film should have had a bigger scope and budget. The Halliday Brand has elements of both Red River and The Big Country and Duel In The Sun and should have gotten that kind of treatment.

Bond is proud, stubborn, and brutal. Joseph Cotten has recycled elements of his and Gregory Peck's character from Duel In The Sun in his relationship with Bond. It's not a totally satisfying welding of those two characters either. Cotten is way too much the classy gentleman to get down and dirty as he does in this film.

Still fans of the other players should like The Halliday Brand.

If you want to hate the western genre forever, go ahead and rent The Halliday Brand. Otherwise, do everyone a favor (especially Joseph Cotten and Ward Bond) and forget it was ever made. I don't know what was wrong with the director, but this might be the worst filmed old movie I've ever seen. Joseph H. Lewis, famous for turning low-budget pictures into palatable ones, didn't give his magic touch to this drama. Perhaps he only had $5,000 in the entire budget, and he didn't have any money to film close-ups or medium shots. Perhaps he did film the variety, but there was a terrible fire and all the footage was lost. Or perhaps he accidentally recorded the rehearsals while the camera was poised for the wide shot, and by the time he realized the error, they were out of time and money.

If you've ever wondered whether close-ups were necessary to a movie, they certainly are. Joseph Cotten, Ward Bond, Betsy Blair, and Viveca Lindfors had clenched fists, long pauses after each line (which actors sometimes provide in long shots to make it easier on the editor), and often turned their backs on the camera because they assumed the subsequent close-up would make up the difference. I felt so sorry for these actors.

The story itself was also difficult to root for. Ward plays the powerful patriarch in the western town, and his daughter Betsy Blair falls for a half-Indian hired hand. They sneak around and kiss each other while hiding in the man's house - unacceptable behavior no matter what color her boyfriend's skin is. Also, this was a period piece, during a time when a woman's reputation mattered. Also, her father's a sheriff. And yet we're supposed to be on Betsy's side when Ward forbids the match. As a loving, responsible father, is he supposed to encourage his daughter to be ostracized from the entire town, raising mixed children who are ridiculed by their peers? Her husband could easily be lynched, for daring to marry such a prominent white man's daughter.

I sat through this entire movie for love of Ward Bond. He died two years later, and I certainly missed his energy in the 1960s. Thankfully, George Kennedy quickly stepped up the plate and served as a replacement. But I treasure Ward while I can - just not in this movie.

1957 was just about the peak year for Westerns on TV and the theater screen. In fact, there was almost enough phony gunsmoke floating around to blot out the sun and maybe a few stars. Okay, I exaggerate a bit, but it's small wonder that a worthy little effort like this got lost in the six-gun crowd. Looks to me like a large-scale story done on a small-scale budget with a number of aging yet very skillful players. Never mind that dad Bond is only 3 years older than "son" Cotton or that Lindfors looks about as Indian as I do. When you've got Bond heading up the cast as a stubborn old patriarch and town sheriff, you've got the makings of strong drama. And a strong drama it is with Cotton feuding with Dad over the race mixing going on over at JC Flippen's place. Worse, Bond's daughter has eyes for Flippen's half- breed son, while Cotton's taking a fancy to the half-Indian daughter, Lindfors. At the same time, crusty old patriarch Bond insists on family tradition and, by golly, that doesn't include anyone who was there on the rock to meet the Pilgrims. Now all sorts of trouble are brewing since Bond not only represents family but the law as well.

I suspect that if you dig into the screenplay a little, you can come up with a political allegory that reflects deeper social movements of the time. Be that as it may, the story is big enough and the cast strong enough to warrant much better production values than what we get. Too bad, the filming was limited to the ugly scrublands around LA. This is a package that needs a scale of landscape to match the scale of the story, which apparently was more than the independent producers could afford. It looks like sacrifices had to be made and it was setting more than cast or story that was sacrificed. Anyway, the contest of wills between father and son remains explosive, even though the racial theme has lost cutting edge to the years. In passing—note how we're never shown Cotton actually committing the harassing acts he resorts to, like burning the water tower, or scattering the bank papers. Instead, he's shown skulking around the site. My guess is that was so the audience would not turn against this sympathetic character, even though he commits questionable acts. All in all, it's a good chance to see some fine actors doing their thing, including the often overlooked Betsy Blair.