REVIEWED BY DAN STUMPF:


THE BOUNTY KILLER. Embassy Pictures, 1965. Dan Duryea, Rod Cameron, Audrey Dalton, Richard Arlen, Buster Crabbe, Fuzzy Knight, Johnny Mack Brown. Producer: Alex Gordon. Director: Spencer Gordon Bennet.

   A while back, I commented to someone or other that a producer named A. C. Lyles spent the late 60s killing the B Western with Kindness, making incredibly dull, plodding oaters with casts of well-loved veterans of the genre. I also mentioned that at the same time, Alex Gordon was putting out a handful of equally cheap Westerns, with about the same casts, that were, if not exactly classics of the form, at least interesting to look at. I saw one of these again the other night, and while I can’t recommend it wholeheartedly, it deserves at least a passing comment.

   The Bounty Killer is ninety minutes of Western Stalwarts going through their well-worn paces at a reasonable clip, for their collective ages, with some surprisingly good acting, in spots, and a decent script for a change. Dan Duryea (in bad need of a face-lift) stars as an unworldly traveller who befriends a Saloon Gal (Audrey Dalton) and the Village Idiot (Fuzzy Knight) and eventually turns to Bounty Hunting, which takes a grim toll on his character.

   Along the way, he runs up against the likes of Rod Cameron, Buster Crabbe, Richard Arlen, Bob Steele, “Bronco” Billy Anderson, Johnny Mack Brown, and a host of even lesser-known but familiar faces from the golden age of Cheap Thrills, all of whom seem delighted at getting decent, if small, parts for a change.

   In particular, Dalton, Knight and Crabbe add a Little Something Extra to their hackneyed roles as Whore-with-a-Heart, Comical Sidekick and Knife-wielding Nasty, and Richard Arlen, as Dalton’s father, gives a very nicely-judged reading of a line that would have been easy to over-do; Quoth he, disapprovingly to Duryea, “I’m just helping you (milli-pause) out.”

   As for Dan Duryea, well, a lot of folks (just about everyone in North America, in fact) disagrees with me about him in this movie; they all think we’re supposed to Like him. Unh-unh. One of the wonderful things about Duryea as a performer was that he never once made a serious bid for Audience Sympathy, and he doesn’t start here. He goes right from Sanctimonious Naivete to snarling, lethal Self-Pity without ever once engaging our affections.

   Until the Climax. When, with a few deft Directorial Touches — courtesy of Spencer G. Bennett, himself a veteran of the B-Western and Serials — we suddenly wonder if this guy we never liked really deserved to meet such a sorry end. And when you think about it, that’s a pretty interesting concept to build a Western around. Even a B-Western.