LAST TRAIN FROM GUN HILL: Blu-ray (Paramount, 1959) Paramount Presents...
A western of varying uniqueness, particularly at the
tail-end of the 1950’s, and perhaps, even to suggest a turning of the earth
towards all those more menacingly purposed/character-driven odysseys into the darkened
depths of man’s soul, director, John Sturges’ Last Train from Gun Hill
(1959) is owed its due for at least two rather mesmerizing performances by
Hollywood heavy-hitters, Kirk Douglas and Anthony Quinn. Far from friends,
Douglas and Quinn had evolved an adversarial relationship by the time Last
Train from Gun Hill went into production, chiefly to stem from Quinn’s Best
Supporting Actor Academy Award win playing Paul Gauguin, in Vincente Minnelli’s
Lust for Life (1956) while Douglas, the actual star of the piece, who
had bled for the part, lost out to Yul Brynner for The King and I.
Worse, at the time ‘Last Train’ went before the cameras, Quinn
let it be known he was shopping around an idea to make a movie based on the
life and times of Thracian gladiator, Spartacus, which, of course, Douglas
would eventually beat Quinn to the punch, producing his own spectacular epic
devoted to the legend in 1960. Interestingly, and despite his Oscar win, Quinn’s
was still regarded as the ‘lesser’ career in 1959. And Douglas, determined to
outshine his co-star here, gives a towering performance as law man, Marshal
Matt Morgan, tortured by the devastating loss of his Native American wife,
Catherine (Ziva Rodann) to have been brutally raped, then murdered by Rick (Earl
Holliman), the son of his one-time friend and cattle rancher, Craig Beldan (Quinn).
Last Train from Gun Hill is a
sumptuously mounted ‘revenge’ tragedy, tricked out in all the hi-def finery
Paramount’s patented VistaVision – a process launched in 1954 with the studio’s
release of White Christmas – could provide. The virtues of VistaVision
are irrefutable, its larger camera negative yielding an impressively nuanced
widescreen image with no anamorphic ‘squeeze’ like its competitor -
Cinemascope, and therefore, with virtually no distortions. Its 8-perf proportions
were printed nearly twice the size of standard 35mm and ran sideways through a
modified Mitchell camera. Alas, VistaVision’s halcyon days were short-lived,
all but abandoned a scant two years after Last Train from Gun Hill as
finer-grained film stocks became more readily available to produce similar,
though never quite the same results. VistaVision would continue to be used
sporadically in the foreign markets after 1961, and George Lucas actually
employed it to produce high quality SFX for the original Star Wars trilogy.
But VistaVision’s glory days were already a thing of the past by the time Last
Train from Gun Hill hit movie screens. Paramount had hoped its success
would rival that of Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1957) – another western
to star Douglas. Alas, no – while ‘Last Train’ turned a tidy
profit it was not the rainmaker either the studio or Douglas, producing for his
indie company, Bryna Productions, had hoped, despite some absolutely
breathtaking footage, expertly photographed by cinematographer, Charles B. Lang
Jr.
Last Train from Gun Hill’s pedigree,
both in front of and behind the camera is impeccable with the legendary Hal B.
Wallis in the producer’s chair. Wallis’
career dated all the way back to the dawn of the sound era. And while longevity
is one thing, Wallis could also boast an enviable slate of iconic fare, to
include The Petrified Forest (1936), The Adventures of Robin Hood
(1938), Dark Victory, and, The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex
(both 1939), All This, and Heaven Too (1940), Sergeant York, The
Maltese Falcon, and, They Died with Their Boots On (all in 1941),
the Oscar-winning Casablanca, Now, Voyager, and, Yankee Doodle
Dandy (all in 1942), Desert Fury (1947), Sorry, Wrong Number
(1948), Dark City (1950) the aforementioned White Christmas, and,
Gunfight at the O.K. Corral and King Creole (1958). After Last
Train from Gun Hill, Wallis would continue producing bona fide hits for
Paramount; everything from Elvis programmers, like Blue Hawaii (1961),
to historical epics, Becket (1964), the saucy comedy, Barefoot in the
Park (1967) and a pair of Duke Wayne’s best westerns, The Sons of Katie
Elder (1965), and, True Grit (1969) to say nothing of the movies he
made after departing Paramount for Universal, making Anne of the Thousand
Days (1969), Mary, Queen of Scots (1971) and, Rooster Cogburn
(1975). In the director’s chair was none other than John Sturges who, despite
having kicked around Hollywood since 1946, had yet to truly hit his stride, but
showed great promise with movies like Escape from Fort Bravo (1953),
and, Bad Day at Black Rock (1955) – two spectacular movies made for MGM.
Last Train from Gun Hill would prove a stepping stone for Sturges, whose
career had yet to reveal his true artistry in The Magnificent Seven
(1960), The Great Escape (1963), The Hallelujah Trail (1965), Ice
Station Zebra (1968), Joe Kidd (1972) and, The Eagle Has Landed
(1976).
In front of the camera, Last Train from Gun Hill
greatly benefited from the talents of Earl Holliman who, at 92-yrs.-young, is
still very much with us, and, in 1958, was already considered a beloved of
Hollywood. Holliman’s debut in1952’s Pony Soldier, guided by Wallis’ hand, lent
him almost instant cache as a solid second-string support in such high-caliber
classics as The Bridges at Toko-Ri (1954), The Big Combo (1955), Forbidden
Planet (1956), Giant (1956) and, Gunfight at the O.K. Corral
(1957). The other noteworthy talent in the picture is Caroline Jones who, in retrospect,
ought to have had a bigger career as a leading lady. Instead, after being
discovered by a talent scout for Paramount, Jones quickly slid into being
typecast in character parts – a decision to, arguably, benefit her. Jones’
debut in 1952’s The Turning Point, and marriage to aspiring film-maker
and future television zeitgeist, Aaron Spelling seemed to pave the way for
rapid advancement. But instead, Jones was relegated to third billing in
pictures like House of Wax and The Big Heat (both in 1953). A bout
of virulent pneumonia forced her to withdraw from the role of Lornene Burke, in
From Here to Eternity (1953) to win Donna Reed the Oscar for Best
Supporting Actress. Shortly thereafter, work in television – then, considered
the red-headed stepchild of the movies, began to dominate Jones’ career
prospects, her most iconic role, Morticia, the dark-wigged matriarch in 1964’s The
Addams Family. The years after that show went off the air in 1966 were
unkind to Jones, who embarked upon a spotty spate of opportunities, capped off
by a starring role in 1981’s CBS daytime soap – Capitol. Alas, shortly
after being cast, Jones discovered she had rapidly advancing colon cancer which
forced her to play many of her scenes from a wheelchair. The disease quickly
spread to her liver and stomach. And yet, despite the pain, she managed to
complete the entire first season, quietly slipping into a coma and dying two
years later. She was barely 53-yrs.-old.
Jones gives a riveting performance in Last Train
from Gun Hill as the hard-worn, though glamorous prostitute, Linda who
betrays her love for Tony Quinn’s Craig Beldon and endures, with panged heart,
to regret her noble gesture. Jones is wholly believable here, with a
world-weariness permeating her outlook, and amplifying her penultimate and
bittersweet farewell as she observes Matt pull out of station on the last train
from Gun Hill. Alas, each departs the
depot empty-handed: he, having just gunned down his one-time friend after
witnessing Rick, accidentally shot by Lee Smithers (Brian G. Hutton), his
cohort in the rape and murder of Matt’s wife, and she, having eschewed her conflicted
love for Craig, the man who beat her senseless and put her in the hospital,
now, to have sacrificed what little reputation remains to abet the law man who
can never be hers for the asking. Even
as the camera concludes on a close-up of Douglas’ forthright Matt, come to his
bittersweet end, seeking, yet somehow failing to actually find, justice for his
late wife, it is Jones’ subtly tear-stained harlot, kneeling before the corpse of
her dead and abusive lover that gets ingrained in our collective memory; this gal,
having traded everything, even the last vestige of her pride to become the
social outcast for all time.
After an unprepossessing main title sequence,
underscored by Dmitri Tiomkin, Last Train from Gun Hill opens with a
spirited buggy ride through the wilds of Arizona. In the carriage are Matt
Morgan’s wife, Catherine and his 7-yr.-old son, Petey (Lars Henderson). Alas,
their solitude is intruded upon by Rick and Lee who, upon intercepting the
wagon, mistake Cate for a no-account squaw. She buggy whips Rick, leaving a
considerable scar on his cheek. To avenge his male pride, he and Lee take turns
raping Catherine before leaving her for dead while Petey manages to escape on
Rick’s horse and return to town where his father is presently regaling some of
the boys with tall tales from his illustrious past as a law man. Matt is
understandably shaken when his son returns without his mother. The boy leads him
back to the brutalized remains of his wife. Recognizing the saddle, emblazoned with
the initials C.B., Matt makes the train ride to the neighboring town of Gun
Hill. Aboard, he meets Linda who advises he tread lightly as she too recognizes
the saddle he is toting. At the station, Matt comes in minor conflict with
Craig’s right-hand, Beero (Brad Dexter) whom he advises to announce his arrival
to his boss. In the meantime, Matt rents a rig and hightails it out to Craig’s
sprawling cattle ranch to await the great man’s return. As Beero knows nothing
of Rick’s crime or how Matt came by Craig’s saddle, he rides to forewarn of a ‘thief’
to have returned with his ill-gotten gains.
Previously, Rick and Lee had spun a yarn for Craig to
compensate for the absence of their mounts, suggesting their horses were stolen
while they were inside the saloon quietly having a drink. Disbelieving the
story, Craig, taking notice of the scar on his son’s cheek, nevertheless
suggested he teach Beero a lesson after the latter inferred Rick should learn
how to fight with men instead of women. Too bad Rick is not a fighter. Beero
pummeled him in Craig’s parlor, proving which is the ‘real man’ – at least, in
Craig’s eyes. Now, Craig rides home, determined to crush the thief so bold to
cross him, and, with even more gutsy resolve, come back to rub his nose in the
theft. Instead, he finds Matt in his parlor. The two were once very good
friends. Now, both men prove innocently unaware of how the other came in
possession of the saddle. Instead, their conversation begins amicably until
Matt reveals the purpose for his visit, to avenge his wife’s brutal slaying,
and then, inadvertently explains how his son, Petey witnessed the attackers,
one with a deep scar on his cheek. Instantly recognizing Rick as Cate’s killer,
though pretending not to know as much, Craig resists Matt’s request to turn
over his son to stand trial for his crimes. Instead, Craig and Matt become
adversaries with Matt vowing to apprehend Rick and take him back home on the
last train out of Gun Hill later that evening.
When Rick and Lee return to the ranch, Craig confronts
the pair in their lie. He orders Lee off his property for good and forewarns
Rick that Matt will stop at nothing to see justice is done for his late wife. In town, Rick returns to the whorehouse/saloon
he frequents, departing from a poker game with Beero and his buddies for a
little badinage upstairs. Instead, having anticipated his next move, Matt
effortlessly intercepts and knocks Rick unconscious, handcuffing and carrying
him out at gunpoint to a neighboring hotel where he plans to hold up until the nine-o’clock
departure of the train. Informed of Rick’s capture, Craig sends his gunmen to
the hotel. However, Matt is not so easily subdued and several of Craig’s men
are gunned down. Craig appeals to Matt, as father to father, but to no avail. Linda,
having learned from Lee of the actual events that transpired to create this
perfect storm, now takes it upon herself to aid Matt in his escape, smuggling a
rifle from behind the bar up to his room. Meanwhile, Lee torches the hotel,
hoping to snuff Matt out. Instead, Matt proceeds to exit the burning ruins with
Rick still in handcuffs and the rifle firmly nudged under his chin. As the town’s
folk look on, Matt takes hold of a horse and carriage, driving them to the depot
just as the 9 o’clock train is pulling into station. Lee attempts to prevent
Matt’s arrival but is gunned down by Matt. Regrettably, Lee’s stray bullet has killed
Rick. A distraught Craig orders Matt to draw on him. In the resulting showdown,
Matt shoots his one-time friend dead, an expiring Craig whispering to “teach”
his own son well. As the town’s folk observe, Linda kneels at Craig’s remains,
observing as the train pulls into the night with Matt aboard. His journey may
be at an end, but there is no satisfaction to be derived from this dénouement.
Last Train from Gun Hill is a picture
that teems in top-to-bottom great performances. Even the extras have memorable
faces. Originally intended as a vehicle for Charlton Heston and Burt Lancaster,
it’s hard to quibble over their loss. When both proved unavailable, Hal Wallis
simply turned, not to second best, but to another top-tier, one - Kirk Douglas,
already a star, the other, Tony Quinn, already well on his way, and each, a very
reliable choice to fill the bill. Indeed, Wallis had hoped to transform Les
Crutchfield’s tale into a sprawling and dramatic western saga. Director, John
Sturges was impressed with the screenplay, particularly its dialogue, though
not nearly as excited upon learning most of it had been written by blacklisted
writer, Dalton Trumbo under a pseudonym. Some of Sturges’ aspirations to make a
wonderful movie endure. Alas, the opener – the rape and murder set-up, is the
weakest part of the movie. I am not one who subscribes to ‘realism’ in my
movies. In fact, quite the opposite is true. But too much is left unsaid in these
establishing moments that are supposed to set the tone for the rest of the
movie. The screams we hear from behind a tree just out of camera shot are not
blood-curdling, but of the stock – ‘save me’ damsel in distress ilk that ring
with a tinny texture of over-rehearsal. It might have helped if Sturges had
taken the time to give us a few intimate moments between Matt and Caroline to
solidify the tortured quality of Matt’s loss, too soon to follow. Douglas plays
to the hilt the discovery of Caroline’s ravaged dead remains, otherwise barely
glimpsed. We can taste the gritted-teeth bitterness turned to roiling anger,
contained beneath his shiny tin star. That’s something, I suppose. And from the
moment Matt’s feet are set upon a scenario for…well, we are never quite certain
at the outset – revenge or justice – Last Train from Gun Hill acquires
all the drama, exhilaration and taut suspense we would expect of a movie made
by John Sturges with an A-list cast and killer production values at his
disposal.
The picture greatly benefits from its location work,
shot in Arizona, allowing for some truly breathtaking, stark and surreal, even
sparse and stoic rustication, extolled down to a finite precision in image
clarity, thanks to VistaVision. Even the town of Gun Hill, actually Paramount’s
free-standing backlot set – endlessly revive for every western adventure made
at the studio since the early sound era, and later to find ever-lasting TV fame
as the primary set for Bonanza (1959-73), comes across as choice frontier
real estate, civilized on the outside, but steaming with all the lusty pathos
of these guarded, fragile and occasionally ugly characters. For Douglas’
penultimate gunfight with Lee, actor Brian Hutton kept out drawing the star.
After several failed takes, Sturges suggested Douglas’ Morgan already be
prepared with his rifle drawn, thereby expediting the sequence considerably and
in Douglas’ favor. Afterward, Douglas reportedly remarked to Tony Quinn, “Can
you imagine an upstart beating me on the draw?” to which a confident Quinn
replied, “Don’t worry, Kirk…we’ll get him in the editing room!” Viewed
today, Last Train from Gun Hill reveals itself to be a marvelous western
in Sturges’ pantheon of greats. It’s an oft overlooked movie, and that is
sincerely a shame. So too, did it fail to become the rainmaker Hal Wallis and
Kirk Douglas had sincerely hoped. But time does incredibly strange things to
motion pictures. Some, considered wildly popular in their day, date and even
fade into obscurity. Conversely, in our post-modern age, where contempt for humanity
drives the central narrative of our depreciation of the arts, Last Train
from Gun Hill emerges as a candidate for sincere re-consideration. It’s a
sold western, made in an era when Hollywood professionalism was at its zenith. We
can always admire ‘class’. Class will out. And Last Train from Gun Hill is,
in all regards, a very classy affair.
Paramount’s restoration and 4K remaster, made
available as part of their standard Blu-ray ‘Paramount Presents…’
franchise, is a winner. There are two very brief instances of edge enhancement
and an ever-so-slight gate weave in the VistaVision logo, but otherwise, this
is a very solidly rendered 1080p image with breathtaking color reproduction, superb
contrast and overall image clarity. VistaVision gets the nod here. It truly was
hi-def for the 1950’s. Flesh tones are appropriately ruddy and sun-kissed. Colors
are lurid, particularly the torching of the hotel at night, with deep azure
skies and inky black clouds and shadows contrasted by shocks of violent and
writhing orange/yellow flame. Fine detail abounds in everything from skin, hair
and clothes, to the most distant details in bric-a-brac. Herein, we tip our
hats to Hal Pereira and Walter H. Tyler’s magnificent production design, as
well as Edith Head’s costumes and, of course, cinematographer, Charles Lang’s
miraculous compositions. There’s always something interesting to fill the eye
here, and made the absolute most of in VistaVision’s ultra-resolution process. It
has always been a source of consternation for film lovers that VistaVision’s
exquisite visual presentation was not complimented by a true stereo soundtrack.
Point blank: there was no place to fit a stereo track. So, mono – or rather, Perspecta
‘directionalized’ mono became the standard and, herein, it proves rather
effective. Ironically, Paramount never
trumpeted the use of Perspecta, despite its use on virtually all of their
VistaVision movies. An alternative to Cinemascope’s magnetic stereo - less
expensive and wildly popular at both Paramount and MGM throughout the 1950’s,
Perspecta’s panning mono mix, only for isolated dialogue and SFX is effectively
exploited in Last Train from Gun Hill. Dimitri Tiomkin’s score sounds
fantastic and dialogue is always crisp. Paramount has shelled out for another
all-too-brief Leonard Maltin ‘Film Maker’s Focus’ featurette. I adore
Maltin for his insight. But he always seems just to be getting warmed up in these
various intros before someone unceremoniously decides to turn off the camera. There
is also a careworn theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Last Train from Gun Hill
is a movie held in high regard at our house. It should therefore sincerely
belong in yours. Great looking disc of a wonderful western.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the
best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
1
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