RANCHO NOTORIOUS: Blu-ray (RKO Pictures, 1952) Warner Archive

No aspersions being cast, but I have never quite understood the ‘sex appeal’ of Marlene Dietrich. For me, Dietrich’s aura is far more tantalizing than either her gams or cleavage, and her presence, infinitely more so at a glance than any tone-deaf ditty she could warble with sexually-lit subterfuge. Such is the case with Fritz Lang’s misfire of a western, Rancho Notorious (1952) whose driving force, RKO mogul, Howard Hughes’ attempted to do for Dietrich what he had done almost a decade earlier for sex bomb Jane Russell in The Outlaw (1943) – namely, to keep Dietrich’s sex bomb image alive and well, in spite of the passage of time. The trick is all in the timing, actually. Russell was on the cusp of stardom when The Outlaw was launched. Dietrich, alas, was cresting after nearly two decades of solid work elsewhere. And although we had not seen the last of her gemutlich charm to morph into a more statuesque glamor, Rancho Notorious definitely sounded the death knell for the Dietrich of yore, first seen in better character, and in a feistier western, in 1939’s Destry Rides Again.

In Rancho Notorious, Dietrich is Altar Keane, the slinky matron of the Chuck-a-Luck – a criminal hideout. Exceptional casting in Arthur Kennedy – 3 years costar, Mel Ferrer’s senior, but playing 3 years his junior as Vern Haskell to Ferrer’s Frenchy Fairmont - two frontier fops out for revenge while vying for Altar’s affections. Ken Darby’s ballad, The Legend of Chuck-a-Luck, is a sort of running commentary done in sing-song, first heard under the main titles, then forever after to chronically unfurl with continuing lyrics to augment the action and provide connective tissue between scenes. Reportedly, the working title of the picture was ‘Chuck-a-Luck’ – later changed at Hughes’ insistence to Rancho Notorious because, as he pointed out to Lang, no European would know of this gambling term, to which Lang retorted, “Then it’s a good thing they all know what Rancho Notorious means!”  Important to note, the picture was not a success when it debuted. Today, it has acquired a cult following, much like 1954’s Johnny Guitar. But that is where any comparisons between the two should end. Because Rancho Notorious makes Johnny Guitar look like Citizen Kane. Indeed, Lang was not at all pleased with the final results, mostly because his hands were tied by RKO’s budgetary restrictions.

For her part, Dietrich was determined Rancho Notorious should somehow hermetically seal and extol her physical virtues. And while Dietrich was hardly unattractive, she was nevertheless fifty in 1952. Hence, cinematographer, Hal Mohr, who had previously photographed her in Destry, attempted to resign, as he firmly believed the Technicolor camera could not bely the years that separated these two efforts. The star pleaded her case to Lang, with whom she had begun in friendship, pointing out the lighting ‘tricks’ her one-time mentor, Joseph von Sternberg had used to capture her curious essence on the screen. When Lang pointed out von Sternberg primarily shot in black-and-white, inferring Technicolor came with its own caveats, Dietrich quietly persisted to push for ways her scenes could – and should - be lit and photographed. This tug-o-war persisted throughout the making of the movie. By the end of shooting, Lang and Dietrich were no longer on speaking terms.

Rancho Notorious is a truly odd film. Distinctive, perhaps, but only for distinction’s sake. It also, almost entirely avoids all of the western tropes, despite its subject matter.  A revenge drama to only dip its’ creative toes in the milieu of the traditional American western, the picture opens with a big fat close-up of two lovers passionately kissing inside a deserted assayer’s shop while contemplating their own slice of heaven at a little spot they call Lost Cloud Ranch. But this is where the blissful-to-be between Vern Haskell and his fiancée, Beth Forbes (Gloria Henry) ends. Departing to wrangle his cattle on the outskirts of town, Vern is unaware, only moments later, Beth is confronted by a holdup man who rapes and murders her. Vern’s bitter attempt to avenge his lover is foiled when he comes upon the murderer’s mortally wounded partner, Whitey (John Doucette), who dies after providing Vern with a disorienting clue – one word: Chuck-a-Luck. Plying his formidable tracking skills, Vern befriends Frenchy Fairmont, who takes him to Chuck-a-Luck – a remote horse ranch presided over by Altar Keane – a once legendary dancehall queen gone to seed. Altar and Frenchy are an item, sharing in the sordid profits gleaned from the ranch’s other patrons.  Vern comes face to face with Kinch (Lloyd Gough), the man who raped and murdered Beth, although it will be some time before he is able to identify him as such. Now, Vern begins his slow descend, from self-righteous avenging angel to outlaw, his morality tainted by a blinded thirsty for bloody revenge. Taking notice Altar is wearing Beth’s handsome brooch, Vern confronts the matron who, unaware of its past, confides Kinch gave it to her. Now, Vern begins to woo Altar, much to Frenchy’s chagrin. Convinced Altar will betray them all, a gunfight worthy of Shakespearean drama breaks out, and, at the end of which almost everyone lays either wounded, killed or dying. As Altar fades, Vern and Frenchy mount their saddles to ride off into the sunset for their final showdown – determined to kill each other.

The cynical/cyclical nature of Lang’s storytelling cannot be overstated. Rancho Notorious opens on a sunburnt day and concludes on pretty much the same. The bookending continues with Beth’s murder at the outset, and Altar’s loss moments before the final fade to black. Sexual relations are a labyrinth anchored by tortuous emotions, some unraveling into bitter revenge, while others are brought to a boil of jealous insanity, like a pot of beans overcooked on an open fire. Between these scenes of human carnage, most of the characters do an awful lot of posing, preening or gazing through doorways, hallways, archways or otherwise framed by immovable barriers – a Lang trademark that lends an air of claustrophobia to these supposedly wide-open spaces. And when Lang narratively paints himself into a corner, there is always the sad, sobering ballad of the Chuck-a-Luck to provide connective tissue, moving the action from one discombobulated scene into the next. If Rancho Notorious were compared to the wheels of a stagecoach, then most of its spokes have been curiously removed, creating a very uneven journey through time and space. But Lang’s editing here harks to contemporary film-making methods.

We get Lang’s re-interpretation of what life is like on these rough-hewn plains, but with all the boring parts left out. A shot of Whitey threatening Kinch, another of a rattlesnake, Kinch shooting Whitey dead, a cut to a coyote, then the dawn, then Vern in half shadow surveying Whitey’s remains. It’s a Cole’s Notes/connect-the-dots way of getting to the meaty innards of the tale and it works with a fabulously expedited, almost lyrical precision that keeps the picture taut. Lang also imbues Rancho Notorious with a sort of desiccated magnificence. The west is already a decaying hell hole. Hal Mohr’s cinematography is sumptuously vacant, deprived even of the anticipated, if pedestrian frontier-optimism. The places visited in Rancho Notorious are remote, sparsely populated and never lend an air of adventurism, but suggest an inescapable, dusty vacuum plagued by death and destruction. There is a certain lack of empathy for all of the characters who populate this proscenium, except Altar, whose death scene is treated as a sincere loss. Dogmatically, Lang creates a truly sinister western drama from little more than a few carefully chosen bits, steeped in the ample ugliness of human nature. The most ruthless moment in the picture never appears, but is rather deliciously confined to the ballad’s final stanza in which it is inferred Frenchy and Vern murdered one another with their bare hands, somewhere off in the desert.  

When Rancho Notorious premiered, it was mostly savaged by critics as a wan ghost flower in the western genre - too corny, pretentious and plodding to be truly iconic. I disagree. While the picture is hardly a work of art, it is nevertheless a cleverly reimagined revenge drama, with Lang squeezing every ounce from his meager budget, and finding inventive ways to tell a story with at least twice as much scope, in a little less than half the time usually afforded such breadth of intent. And now, Rancho Notorious arrives on Blu-ray in a startling restoration from the Warner Archive (WAC). It’s become something of its own cliché to suggest consistent perfection from WAC. But time and again, they prove to be the standard bearer for time-consuming, expensive and difficult image and sound restoration projects, resurrecting classics from oblivion and preserving the legacy of not only their own studio, but also the works of Selznick, MGM and RKO for future generations to treasure in perpetuity. Rancho Notorious has never looked better. Indeed, it has always looked a lot worse. Emerging here, the richness of vintage 3-strip Technicolor and Lang and Hal Mohr’s extraordinary use of its lurid hues to evoke mood. Dietrich is luminous in Technicolor. She had nothing to fear. Contrast is excellent. While Technicolor was a ‘grain concealing’ process, there is a light smattering of grain here looking very indigenous to its source. Fine detail could scarcely be better. The 2.0 DTS mono audio is adequate for this presentation. WAC has given due diligence to a proper clean up and remastering of these vintage tracks. Again, I sincerely wish WAC could find it in their budget to produce at least a short featurette to discuss the process by which they bring back careworn film elements to an extraordinary degree of finite clarity. But hey, they have spent their moneys correctly – on the actual restoration. Nothing skimped upon here. Bottom line: while Rancho Notorious remains a footnote in my estimation, it looks incredible in hi-def and definitely belongs on everyone’s list of must-haves. Highly recommended for quality!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

5

EXTRAS

0