Harrison's Reports (1962)

May 5, 1962 HARRISON'S REPORTS 67 the posse, under the leadership of the sheriff (Walter Matthau) is after him. Douglas and his brilliant horse elude his pursuers. Only a short, few yards from freedom (the Mexican border) Douglas and his horse are struck down by a giant truck. The horse is shot, the sheriff refuses to identify the "crazy cowboy" and as the ambulance clangs its way back to the hospital, you know that the bone-crushed passenger " Douglas " will be dead on arrival. Produced by Edward Lewis; directed by David Miller; screenplay by Dalton Trumbo based on the novel "Brave Cowboy" by Edward Abbey. General patronage. • "Six Black Horses" with Audie Murphy, Dan Duryea, Joan O'Brien (Universal-lntl, Current; 80 rains.) POOR. A western can still be eerie, morbid, ornery and otherwise possessed of the depressives of story structure and yet come out of it as good movie entertainment. Not this one. It is scarred with all of these emotional repellents and it doesn't make for a pretty picture on the screen. It's mostly because the story suffers from the malady of plot-structural weakness. While the trio of stars are equipped to do a fairly good job with a half-way decent script, they fail to deliver because of the loosely-woven tale and the inadequate direction which too may be traceable to the little the director had to work with. The strange title comes out of the even stranger wishes of Dan Duryea. Bad critter, a bitter man of vengeance and meanness, his dream of riding out of town, when he dies, is in a real, fancy rig being pulled by six black horses, tricked out with tall plumes." He gets his wish, when he's done in by Audie Murphy, who in turn at one time owed his life to Duryea. For all the blackness into which this tale is plunged, the scenic investiture (in Eastman color) is of the stuff that is Utah in all its shimmering brilliance and outdoor grandeur. To be sure, this poorly made western is not an altogether lost cause. There are many who follow the trail of the horse opera no matter if it by-passes the outposts of pleasing entertainment. and so, Audie Murphy is caught stealing a mare. Six riders are for hanging him, but Dan Duryea saves his life. Riding into town Joan O'Brien spots these two men. They kill three of their assailants. Even pay for their funerals. They accompany Miss O'Brien to a distant town to meet her huband. On their way a band of Coyotero Indians demand the girl. Later, the girl wants to kill Duryea because he killed her husband. Duryea abducts the girl, Murphy gives chase and kills him. He takes the girl to start a new life. Produced by Gordon Kay; directed by Harry Keller; screenplay by Burt Kennedy. Adults and young adults. "Cash on Demand" with Peter Cushing, Andre Morell (Columbia, May; 77 mins.) GOOD. Our British brethren of the cinema are good at holding excitement, tension and pressure under control. Their emotions don't show too broadly. A bogus army officer can make a bank robbery come off with the aplomb of ordering crumpets and tea in a quiet little tea-room. There are clever touches of suavity, simplicity, subtlety as the fake insurance investigator goes about his work, and yet he's a scoundrel in his heart. This story of a well-planned robbery of a provincial bank is woven together so tightly and smoothly that before you know it, the 77 minutes have run their course and the thieving smoothie is on his way to prison. It's the adroitness of the acting and the skillful job of directing that make this an interesting entry from that tight little, bright little isle across the pond. There are no names of any consequence with which the exhibitor can make any noise about. To be sure, it isn't likely to set the box office ablaze. But, it is different in its aproach to the copsand-robbers theme. For all its smooth-paced tempo and played-down dramatics, it has its element of quiet excitement. There is no love, no heroism, no chase down toward the end where the culprit usually goes careening in his get-away car in and out of crowded streets, only to be caught in the end. It is just a smoothly told, carefully concocted tale of a huge bank haul, which fails to come off. Peter Cushing, Andre Morell and the rest of the cast do well. Photography, good. He enters the bank and wants to see the head man. Andre Morell says he is the investigator for the insurance company. He's ushered into the head man's office (Peter Cushing) and some small talk takes place. Pretty soon, Morell tells Cushing what he's there for, to loot the provincial bank. Cushing, a hard man on his fellow employees, is told that his wife and son would be in quite a mess if he fails to cooperate with the thief. The helpless bank official has no alternative. He has to go along with the job. In the meantime, a clerk in the outer office taking the route of a routine check on the identity of the insurance ivestigator finds out that he's an imposter. He informs the police. Cushing, still in fear that his family would be in danger if the suave thief would be taken into custody by the police, pleads with the officers to free Morell. Of course, the police must do their duty. They've got the evidence the money, as well as the confession of the crook. For a while it seems as if Cushing also would be drawn in, innocently, as an accomplice. But, the bank official is freed. He also breathes easier when he calls his wife to learn that she was never in any danger. That too, was a clever ruse employed by the insurance faker who is hauled (Continued on Following Page) Kramer Attacks Exhibitor % That independent producer Stanley Kramer is one of the more brilliant minds of the motion picture industry, none of us who has covered him (news-wise) can deny. His latest achievement, "Judgment at Nuremberg" with its Academy Awards, attests to an outstanding creative ability. There's his challenging, but successful "The Defiant Ones" also a winner of many distinguished prizes . . . But, when Kramer takes almost sharp issue with the percentage an exhibitor gets, as compared to the producer's return, in the presentation of a film, then he gives himself away as not having too much basic knowledge of the theatre man's staggering cost of operation, these days.