What ostensibly starts as a formula Western of a man who encounters tragedy on the frontier and rises above it quickly takes a darker turn in this noirish 1960 MGM release. Alan Ladd is an ex-Confederate who encounters a rude reception from townspeople when arriving in the middle of the night with a sickly pregnant wife; delays in getting a bottle of inexpensive medicine to her result in her death. The local merchants are remorseful and try to bring Ladd into the community by making him a lawman, but he instead embarks on a sociopath's trail of revenge.
By sad coincidence the role of a nihilistic man who has seen his world destroyed and is now fully detached from moral constraint is well suited to Ladd in the last few years of life; childhood trauma, alcoholism, and a suicide attempt indicate a life which demanded heavy tolls for whatever success he achieved. Made in an era partial to sunnier Westerns, the Peyton Place-atmosphere of OFIH stands out in stark contrast. The cold-blooded killing of a lawman, back-shooting betrayal. And a lethal gunfight played out solely for betting are all present in a script that seems more appropriate to a 1970's Clint Eastwood outing. Black and white filming would have added a special patina to the story.
This being the twilight of the 1950's, studio pressures might have compelled writer Aaron Spelling (yes, he of 1980's prime time soap fluff!) to shift some emphasis to the more redeemable characters played by Dolores Michaels and Barry Coe. And just for a moment, I wondered if Michaels might have been Lauren Bacall appearing under a stage name.
Western watchers might pay special attention to the covered buckboard that appears throughout; the canvas appears to have transparent plastic windows, and the late 1860's is much too early for that.
