FURY AT SHOWDOWN (1957, United Artists)


D: Gerd Oswald. P: John Beck. W: Jason James. Ph: Joseph LaShelle. M: Harry Sukman. St: John Derek (Brock Mitchell), John Smith (Miley Sutton), Carolyn Craig (Ginny Clay), Nick Adams (Tracy Mitchell), Gage Clarke (Chad Deasey) 


“It’s not easy to join the human race again once you’ve been drummed out”

A companion piece to Oswald’s The Brass Legend, this film similarly corrals ideas from touchstone westerns – High Noon and The Gunfighter – into a punchy story about onerous reputations, violent reprisals and the rush to judgement of a small community fearful of a lone wolf in its midst. 


In a performance keyed to the tenor of the psychological strain of western so popular at the time, John Derek alternates between furrowed brow and wild-eyed glare as a man “with a name to live up to – and a past to live down”, as the posters put it. It is a common scenario: Brock has been forced to kill, more than once, to see off foolhardy challengers; he only wants to settle down; his peers – even Ginny, the girl he loves – doubt he can ever tame his animal instincts. 

Whipping up their suspicions is Deasey, a crooked attorney. Brock killed his brother two years earlier – in self-defence according to Brock; to eliminate a love rival, as Deasey maintains. He pressures the bank manager to curtail funds to Brock and his younger brother, who have a business plan geared to the arrival of the railroad, and hedges his bets by employing a gunman, Sutton, ostensibly as his bodyguard. 


As Deasey poisons the air against him, Brock adopts a hunted expression, his quick temper aiding his enemy’s cause. When a young man seen in Ginny’s company comes to apologise to Brock, so angry is the latter at this presumption of his violent intentions that he almost throttles the boy, playing into Deasey’s hands and diminishing his standing even further among the townsfolk. 


Clearly there is no smoke without fire – a realisation seized upon by numerous Fifties westerns that put their violent protagonists under a microscope. Without the sustained examination of character that distinguished the likes of The Gunfighter and The Searchers, however, Brock amounts to little more than a brooding outcast. Fortunately Derek was well versed in troubled or misunderstood personae, earning plaudits early in his career for such roles in Knock on Any Door and All the King’s Men (both 1949). He would never recapture that high ground; studio brass sacrificed him to the teen market instead. Nevertheless, building on a decent showing as James Cagney’s wayward partner in Run for Cover (1955), he does a creditable job as what the New York Times called “a young man at his life’s crossroads”, increasingly introspective (“I’m afraid… of myself”) in the face of social ostracism.


The supporting roles and performances are more perfunctory. Adams and Craig are somewhat anodyne as Brock’s brother and love interest respectively – her part in particular is poorly developed – but the villains make a stronger contribution: Clarke, a TV journeyman, spiteful and spineless as the vindictive lawyer; Smith, later co-lead of the Laramie series, surly and swaggering as the hired gun. His bar-room/street fight with Brock is one of the film’s highlights. 


As in The Brass Legend, Oswald was constrained by a tight budget and schedule – around a week – but compensated with ingenuity. He blocks half the screen, for example, with a man’s profile to disguise the limited number of extras in a crowd scene. He makes intelligent use of deep focus, notably early in the film when Brock returns to his hometown after a year in jail, the slowly gliding camera picking up the hostile looks and furtive motions of wary onlookers. LaShelle’s monochrome photography is excellent throughout, especially on the rare occasions when the camera escapes the confines of the town to roam the rocky heights of the famous Iverson Movie Ranch. 




The closing stages shirk some conventions while satisfying others. With Brock’s brother slain by Sutton and Deasey’s scheming exposed, it is remarkable that it is the heroine who urges her man to pick up his gun and take revenge, and the hero who demurs – up the point where he has no choice but to intervene. Fury at Showdown presents the rare spectacle of a protagonist modifying his ways and maturing through adversity, without unsubscribing entirely from the code of masculinity on which the western has always been predicated. Kevin Grant


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