THE MOONLIGHTER (Warner Bros, 1953)

D: Roy Rowland. P: Joseph Bernhard. W: Niven Busch. Ph: Bert Glennon. M: Heinz Roemheld. St: Barbara Stanwyck (Rela), Fred MacMurray (Wes Anderson), Ward Bond (Cole Gardner), William Ching (Tom Anderson), John Dierkes (Sheriff Daws)


“If ever a ghost can ride and shoot, that’s what the ghost of Wes Anderson’ll do”

This B-western opens strongly, with a lynch mob dragging a prisoner from jail before hanging him and throwing his corpse in a river. Unfortunately, they have made a mistake. The real ‘moonlighter’ – nocturnal cattle rustler Wes Anderson – was in a different cell. Their victim was an innocent drifter. Director Rowland may not distinguish himself with the rest of the picture, but this initial sequence powerfully conveys the rush to judgement that was all too common in the Old West. And not just in that region or period, of course. It is significant that a black man – historically, much more likely to have been the object of a lynching – is also in the jail, watching fearfully as the hangmen go about their grisly business.


What is set up as an outcry against injustice – Wes escapes in the melee and swears revenge against the “self-appointed hangmen” who came there to murder him, in a foretaste of Three Hours to Kill (1954) and Hang ’Em High (1968) – segues into a run-of-the-mill story about wrong turns and redemption, complete with a melodramatic love triangle that is all sputter and no spark. Aside from the novelty of 3D photography (watching the film flat, it is difficult to imagine how this would have enhanced the experience – there are no obvious ‘in your face’ moments), the big selling point was the reunion of MacMurray and Stanwyck, nine years on from Double Indemnity, in another love-hate liaison. Both stars go through the motions, hampered by a weak script that fails to establish a credible basis for their relationship or for the increasingly incredulous narrative contortions around them.


A cynically humorous scene, in which Wes attends what is theoretically his own funeral, extorting the undertaker’s fee from the attendants at gunpoint, maintains the promise of the first 15 minutes. Things go awry once he returns to the family farm after his vengeful crusade and finds Rela, his old flame, set to marry his brother, Tom. Wes begrudgingly wishes them well. At this point, we could almost be watching a different film. On the flimsiest of pretexts, Tom, newly suspended from his job as a bank teller, decides to join Wes and his partner, Cole Gardner, in a raid on his former employer. Even the actor playing Tom seems nonplussed at this turn of events. His character had been positioned, albeit cursorily, as the sheep to Wes’s lone wolf. His decision to follow the same maverick path – “You went after what you wanted and I’m going after what I want” – makes no sense except to set up the third act, in which Rela, mourning Tom’s death in the robbery, swears to punish Wes for leading his brother astray.


Niven Busch knew how to write a classic western: the deliciously overripe Duel in the Sun, based on his novel, was his most famous creation, followed by the enthralling noir offshoot Pursued and the tempestuous Stanwyck vehicle The Furies. He was off his game here, however, recycling chunks of dialogue that would have sounded stilted in the Thirties, never mind the early Fifties, when the western was at the apex of its maturity. Rowland, for his part, really should have worked harder to iron out the wrinkles. The rather superficial performances from the leads can perhaps be excused in the circumstances. They flatly emit Busch’s stale clichés and strain for credibility during the closing stages, a typical Busch scenario that pits lovers against each other at gunpoint. Lacking here is the swirling passion that led Duel in the Sun to be nicknamed “Lust in the Dust”. Instead, the rapid superseding of rancour by reconciliation is a hallmark of Hollywood at its most banal.


Although Rowland peaks early, he stages the climactic scenes with some vigour, including a waterfall confrontation that is literally cliffhanging. The black and white photography is consistently rich and deep. Western fans will also appreciate the presence of Ward Bond, although his role as a backstabbing outlaw scarcely represented a challenge to his abilities, as well as a weaselly cameo from Jack Elam in the lynching scene.



MacMurray and Stanwyck spent much of the Fifties in the saddle. Their best westerns lay ahead of them – MacMurray in At Gunpoint, Face of a Fugitive and Quantez; Stanwyck in Trooper Hook and the delirious Forty Guns, the perfect showcase for her redoubtable screen persona. If the stars appear ill at ease in The Moonlighter – and neither party reportedly looked fondly on the project – it was not for lack of affinity with the genre. Kevin Grant 


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