Fallen Angel (1945): Fox Film Noir

With Laura (1944), 20th-Century Fox had a certified hit, both commercially and critically. Stylish and sexy, it also certified full fledged stardom for it’s leading lady, Gene Tierney, and propelled the status of it’s director, Otto Preminger. As always in Hollywood, the studio was eager to build on and duplicate the success of a film by using similar elements to potentially create a new one. This was the case with Fallen Angel, produced the year after the Tierney success. Laura’s male star, Dana Andrews was cast in the lead and Preminger assigned as it’s director.

Unlike Laura, the characters in Fallen Angel aren’t glamorous and wealthy eastern urbanites with razor sharp wit. They are denizens of a small podunk hamlet on the California coast. Although the characters reside on both sides of the tracks, the main focus is on the seedier “wrong” side. Down on his luck drifter Eric Stanton (Andrews) is kicked off a night bus bound for San Francisco, for lack of payment, landing in the burg of Walton, population 23 (an exaggeration, but it is a small, slow moving town). Drowning his sorrows in a cuppa joe at a late night diner, he happens upon Stella (luscious Linda Darnell); waitress, leggy lovely and local slut. As mercenary as she is beautiful, Stella, as Eric discovers within ten minutes of film footage, has a penchant for picking up admirers as quickly and handily as she does the day’s blue plate special.

Impetuous boy that Eric is, 24 hours later, he finds that he’s fallen head over heels with our girl Stella. She on the other hand has other plans. Being burned by Johnny-Come-Latelys before, she wants more than a chop suey dinner and a good time. Determined to give the sultry hash slinger the material possessions she craves, Eric sets his sights on local spinster June Mills (Alice Faye), attractive and financially well off. The plan: Marry June, grab her dough and take off with his viperous vixen. But when Stella is found murdered, Eric finds a target on his back.

Not only was Fallen Angel supposed to follow in the successful, noir-ish footsteps of Laura, but it was also supposed to be the dramatic debut of film songstress, Alice Faye. Longtime Fox musical star, Faye wanted to take her career in a different direction and was excited when her boss, head of Fox, Darryl F. Zanuck, chose this for her dramatic break-out (Olivia de Havilland and new Fox lovely Jeanne Crain were also considered for the role. DeHavilland specifically might have done well in it, as she successfully played a similar role in Paramount’s Hold Back the Dawn, two years earlier). Although not a flop, the film didn’t come close to the box-office powerhouse, Laura had been, and Faye was very unhappy with the way the film had been edited. After visiting the screening room to see the final product, she reportedly left the studio and retired from films (she would return to both films and Fox in 1962 for a remake of State Fair, in a secondary mother role).

Dana Andrews was riding a career high, starring in the aforementioned Laura, the hugely popular ‘45 version of State Fair, and headlined the following year’s Oscar winning Best Picture, The Best Years of Our Lives. But the big winner in Fallen Angel was Linda Darnell. Based on her strong performance in Hangover Square, also released in 1945, she was cast yet again as a dark vamp and the persona suited her. Her early roles had consisted of very young and virginal ingenue parts, but as the middle of the decade approached, she began being cast as naughty girls and her dark good looks only enhanced her burgeoning sexpot image. Stella can actually be viewed as a precursor to her acclaimed role as beautiful gold-digger, Lora Mae Hollingsway in the highly successful A Letter to Three Wives (1949). According to Darnell biographer Ronald L. Davis, there was even talk about an Oscar nomination for her performance in Angel.

Famed playwright Tennessee Williams recommended the movie, albeit denouncing the “awful” title, but the overall impression was that it just didn’t live up to it’s expectations. The fast pace of the relationships were inane, with Andrew’s character falling madly in love with a loose woman, meeting and marrying an upstanding lady and attempting to bilk her of her fortune, all in a very small town, and all in less than a week. But the noir elements, overall good performances by not only the three principals but also fine character actors, Charles Bickford, Anne Revere, Bruce Cabot and Percy Kilbride, and striking cinematography by Joseph LaShelle, make for a film from the golden age that can be enjoyed, if not wholly believed.
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The Mark of Zorro (1940): Robin Hood, Spanish Style

Picking up where Warner Brothers left off in the swashbuckling department with The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), 20th Century-Fox produced the extremely popular The Mark of Zorro in 1940, casting its biggest male star at the time, Tyrone Power in the lead. The top rate production was directed by Rouben Mamoulian, a visual and stylistic master of his craft. His images of Old California, though sparse are still romantic and visually decadent. The story, originally published in 1919, as The Curse of Capistrano by Johnston McCulley, had been filmed to much fanfare in 1920 with the infamous silent film adventurer, Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. Power, although not as naturally athletic in the role of the masked avenger, was much younger than Fairbanks and with his matinee idol looks, made a more romantic lead.

Taking a page from the Robin Hood legend and even mixing in a dash of the Scarlet Pimpernel, the film begins in Madrid, Spain, where the daring and physically accomplished Don Diego Vega, a young aristocrat who is skilled with both a horse and a sword, is called home to California by his father, Alcalde (Governor) Don Alejandro Vega. The elder Vega has been replaced as leader of the region by a fat, conniving new Alcalde, Don Luis Quintero (J. Edward Bromberg), and his sinister henchman, Captain Pasquale (Basil Rathbone). Also in the new Alcalde’s household is his shallow and vain wife Inez (Gale Sondergaard) and his beautiful and innocent niece, Lolita (Linda Darnell).



When young Vega arrives home, he is confused at the frightened way he is greeted, being the son of the Alcalde, and when he realizes the tyranny and cruelty going on with the new regime, he hides behind the façade of a pompous fop, so as to do the real work that needs to be done in order to clean up the corruption. For this he takes on the persona of Zorro, the masked avenger, who rides through the shadows, dressed in black, robbing from the rich and callous to dispense to the poor and oppressed.

Fox head Darryl Zanuck began developing the Zorro film in the late 1930’s. According to Memo from Darryl F. Zanuck: The Golden Years at Twentieth Century-Fox by Rudy Behlmer, instead of having just the standard love interest, which he felt was too static, he reworked the romance angle to have two females interested in Power’s character(s). Lolita, played by Darnell, would be the Alcalde’s niece and the new story addition would be his daughter (in the end, the flirtatious character would be the Alcalde’s wife, played by Gale Sondergaard).


In a December 1940 edition of “Hollywood” magazine, it was reported that over $7,000 was spent to create in Darnell, a Spanish senorita for the film, with 38 tests for hairstyle, make up and wardrobe combined. This also included Spanish lessons, to ensure correct pronunciation of the Spanish words, which cost $400 alone. Also included in the cost was $1,200 for her Spanish dances with Power. Darnell had many gorgeous close up shots and her fresh, virginal beauty was taken at its full advantage. Being a part of such an extravagant film directed by the prestigious Mamoulian only enhanced the starlet’s standing both at Fox and in Hollywood The pretty youngster, only sixteen at the time of filming, had made her film debut the previous year, as well as the first of her many movies with Ty Power. In his biography of Darnell, Hollywood Beauty: Linda Darnell and the American Dream, Ronald L. Davis relates Linda’s feelings on being so young, even still attending school classes on the Fox lot while filming romantic scenes. “I would be kissing Tyrone Power and the school teacher would come and tell me it was time for my history lesson. I never before or since have been so embarrassed”


Apparently, Tyrone Power could buckle the swash as adroitly as his cinematic rival over at Warners, Errol Flynn. According to the incomparable Basil Rathbone, who was a skilled swordsman in his own right, “Power was the most agile man with a sword I’ve ever faced before the camera. Tyrone could have fenced Errol Flynn into a cocked hat.” Fred Cavens, master fencer supreme, choreographed the sword fighting segments to a tee, and with such specimens as Power and Rathbone to bring the action to life, his work was a pleasure to watch. However, it could be argued that as appealing as Power was onscreen, he was no match for Flynn’s devil may care personality in such a similar role. Flynn wore his sarcasm and mischievous grin as a second skin, on Power it looked slightly smug.

Composer Alfred Newman’s zealous score was nominated for an Academy Award, and Arthur Miller’s black and white cinematography was fantastic. It is also worthy to note the performance of Gale Sondergaard. Always fun to watch, Sondergaard, never a raving beauty, has striking and interesting features and as she usually does, slinks and slithers in a most glamorously sinister way. Eugene Pallette basically reprises his Friar Tuck role from Robin Hood, as Frey Filipe, the padre with the pot belly.

Summer Storm (1944): Darnell Becomes a Bad Girl

In the early 1940's, screen beauty Linda Darnell had become stereotyped by her home studio 20th Century-Fox as a virginal young heroine, exotic of look but completely pure of heart. In Mark of Zorro (1940), Blood and Sand (1941) and other films, she had lent her exquisite face but no real acting chops. Then in late 1943, Darnell was sent a script by an agent based on Anton Chekov's novel The Shooting Party. According to Darnell, she begged her boss, Darryl F. Zanuck, to be loaned out for the meaty role of Olga, a seductive Russian peasant. With nothing slated for the brunette beauty, Zanuck agreed, and the course of Linda Darnell's career changed forever.

Not your typical Hollywood subject matter in 1944, Summer Storm is set in pre-Revolution Russia and gave Darnell an excellent dramatic opportunity to lift herself up out of the saccharine doldrums she had found herself in the past couple of years. She plays the role of tumultuous peasant girl Olga, full of fiery passion equalled or even surpassed only by her greed and selfishness. She meets and captivates a chain of men whom she uses to first, leave the pigsty where she lived with her drunkard father, and then advance herself, both socially and financially.
As one of Darnell's conquests, Fedor Petroff, is played by George Sanders, as another, Count Volsky, by Edward Everett Horton, but as Olga works her wiles to her advantage, she pushes things to the dangerous emotional edge, pitting man against man, their passion for her causing ruin all around. As the shallow, beautiful mantrap, Darnell, although limited in her range, does quite well in her first sultry role. Her stock at Fox increased dramatically after the release of Summer Storm (through United Artists). Subsequently, the studio cast her in a succession of seductive vixen roles in films like Hangover Square, Fallen Angel (both 1945) and My Darling Clementine (1946). This persona climaxed with the actress copping the plum role of Amber St. Clare (when Brit Peggy Cummins didn't work out) in the Restoration bodice ripper Forever Amber (1947). Actually, Amber is reminiscent of Summer Storm in theme and character, and Linda smolders in both.

The Russian feel of Chekov's story is translated well. There are good examples of both pre- and post-Soviet garb and much talk of vodka. Mazurka's are played in the background, as part of the Oscar nominated score and the script is peppered with "peasant" in the first half of the film and "comrade" in the second. High production values should be no surprise since the movie was directed by Douglas Sirk, who would hit his peak in the mid 1950's with polished soapers in collaboration with producer Ross Hunter (think Magnificent Obsession and All That Heaven Allows).

The formidable George Sanders makes one of his occasional turns as the films male lead. Though very British in appearance and demeanor (his parents were English), Sanders was actually born in the same pre-Revolutionary Russia in which Summer Storm was set (the actor was born in St. Petersburg in 1906). Infamous as an on-screen cad (and sometimes off as well), as Fedor Petroff he still holds his cadhood in good stead, but this time Sanders' character shows the capacity for both love, albeit a posessive, superficial love, as opposed to a deep, self sacrificing one, and a certain degree of conscience. Anna Lee also does a fine job as Sanders betrayed fiancee.

Not often seen by modern classic movie lovers, Summer Storm is a fine little film. The showcase for Darnell, Sanders and Horton is great. It allowed each a chance to stretch their dramatic legs in roles other than those which had previously limited their respective creative juices.

REVIEW: Anna and the King of Siam (1946)

Much ado has been made through the years about The King and I (1956), Rodgers and Hammerstein's massively popular musical starring Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr, and rightfully so. It's a classic in the genre and made a star of Brynner. It's appeal, however, has overshadowed what some consider (this blogger included) its superior dramatic precursor, Anna and the King of Siam.

The story is the same in both. It is based on Margaret Landon's 1944 novel about a widowed Englishwoman (Irene Dunne) who, along with her young son, goes to Siam (now Thailand) in 1862 to teach the children of the country's king (Brit Rex Harrison). Initially, a clash of wills causes sparks between the independent minded teacher and the iron-fisted monarch, but as they begin to see the fine qualities in one another, they form a deep bond that lasts until the final credits.

Many fine performances are given in a cast that is headed by the incomparable Irene Dunne. As Anna, she is flawless. With her usual confidence and charisma, she creates a character, like several in her illustrious career, which was redone by another actress, not once but twice on film (and once on television in a short lived series). Her Anna is more than a match for the irascible king and turns his way of thinking around to hers in most cases. As King Mongkut, Harrison made his American film debut. He is more convincing as the Asian ruler compared to Brynner, who comes off as some Mongolian warrior. Third billed is Linda Darnell as Tuptim, new arrival to the king's sorority, aka his harem. She is exotically beautiful but doesn't have much else to do, until being burned at the stake for being unfaithful to his majesty. Ironically, Darnell was actually killed in a fire in 1965 at the age of 41.

Providing a more substantial and touching performance is veteran Gale Sondergaard as Lady Thiang, first wife of the Mongkut and mother to his heir. She has been replaced regularly for younger wives and has been relegated to tasting her husband's food in case of poisoning. Sondergaard is always a treat and her gentle portrayal of a loving mother who wants Anna to guide her son to success as a ruler is a highlight in the film. Also giving a memorable turn is Lee J. Cobb, bare-chested and bronzed skin, as the Prime Minister of Siam. Like the king, he has reservations about the strong willed English lady at first but shows great respect for her strength and intellect as he grows to know and understand her.

Cinematographer Arthur Miller worked his magic and the visually stunning black and white film received two Oscars for Cinematography and Art Direction. Anna's splendid European hoop skirts are a great contrast to the spare and exotic, though opulent, attire of everyone at the Siamese court. Bernard Herrmann offers an outstanding score which elicits a perfect musical backdrop with Oriental flair. On every level Anna and the King of Siam is a quality production that deserves to be remembered at least equally with its musical counterpart.

A Letter to Three Wives: Is It Your Husband?

It started out as a Cosmopolitan magazine novel, A Letter to Five Wives, then as a studio film adaption, it was pared down to Four Wives. When production began in 1948, the final product from director Joseph L. Mankiewicz was a striking and highly sophisticated comedy-drama called A Letter to Three Wives (1949). From beginning to end, the dialogue sparkles. Mankiewicz won an Oscar for his witty script and his skilled direction and then he turned around and won the same two Oscars the very next year for his masterpiece, All About Eve.

The story is set in American suburbia circa 1948 ("just 28 minutes from the big city, 23 if you catch the morning express") and it revolves around three upper middle class wives (actually one is striving to be upper middle class). Just as they're boarding a boat, to act as chaperones of a day long children's charity picnic, they receive a letter (one letter addressed to all three) from their "friend", who is also the town flirt, saying she has run off with one of their husbands, but doesn't say which one. Caught between shock, disbelief and nagging suspicion, they board the boat and begin a journey that not only takes them up river but through the emotional status of their respective marriages. They reflect, via flashback, on the weaknesses in their unions and dwell on the fact that each of their husbands was friendly with the vampish letter writer, named Addie Ross, at some point in his life.

First up is Deborah Bishop (Jeanne Crain), who met her well-to-do husband Brad in the Navy. Born and raised on a farm, she thinks back to when she first married Brad (Jeffrey Lynn) and how socially inept she felt around his sophisticated friends, particularly ex-flame Addie. Next up is Rita Phipps (Ann Sothern), radio drama writer, who clashes with her idealistic, high school English teacher husband (Kirk Douglas) over household finances and their social standing. Lastly we meet Lora Mae Hollingsway (Linda Darnell), a gorgeous gold digger, who married the boss (Paul Douglas), owner of a chain of department stores bearing his name. Though she got what she wanted materially, the emotional walls built up by both she and her husband offer little hope for true love.

Though Miss Crain received top billing (and this blogger is personally crazy about her), her segment is by far the weakest of the three. Still engaging in the way it captures its characterizations through scintillating dialogue and great performances, the Crain segment doesn't have the spark that the other wives' slice of celluloid provide. Jeffrey Lynn as Brad Bishop is neither here nor there.

As Rita Phipps, Ann Sothern is as charming and fun to watch as ever. Her delectable voice and confident character can deliver a line of dialogue like a fast ball over home plate. While at a country club dinner dance, the three husbands are glowingly listing the many attributes of the absentee Addie when Rita pipes in, "also fog lights, white sidewalls and a heater?" Classic Sothern. Kirk Douglas, who plays husband George Phipps, was on the brink of stardom when cast in this role. Champion, released the same year as Wives, would put him there.

As screen time goes, Linda Darnell comes out on top, appearing in all three of the wives individual segments. Her Lora Mae shows a determined calculation in order to get everything she wants, including and especially marriage from her wealthy department store tycoon boss. In order to get the disdainful look he wanted out of Darnell, when she's looking at a framed portrait of Addie ( the front of which the audience can't see), Mankiewicz put a photo of director Otto Preminger in the frame during the scene. Preminger had given Darnell a tough time during the filming of Forever Amber(1947), which they made together, and their was no love lost on him by the beauty.

The supporting players in A Letter to Three Wives are just as good, if not better in some cases, as the stars. Thelma Ritter, in her first significant role, is hilarious as the Phipps' maid Sadie Duggan. Like Sothern, she really delivers the goods with Mankiewicz' great script and her strength in this role helped her land a plum part in Mankiewicz' Eve. Also in top form is Florence Bates as Rita's radio executive boss and Hobart Cavanaugh, her henpecked, milquetoast husband. The Phipps dinner party in front of the radio is hilarious, no one missing a beat. Much to Mankiewicz credit, he never actually shows Addie Ross throughout the film, we only hear her velveteen voice which is provided by actress Celeste Holm. Thus, Addie's air of mystery leaves it up to the audience interpretation of how she looks. The film put director Mankiewicz on the map in a big way and allowed him to go gung ho into All About Eve the following year with both creative barrels blazing.

13 Classic Movies I've Never Seen...But Really Want To

Through the years when discussing classic movies with friends and fellow film lovers, inevitably I've been asked numerous times who and what my favorites actors, actresses and films are. I have had discussions on what my favorite Hitchcock films are, my favorite Bette Davis movies and so on. Then the other day I was chatting with an online friend and we started discussing the films we had always wanted to see but hadn't, either by lack of opportunity or as is often in my case, just let the opportunity slip by. So I thought I would share 13 such films. These are by no means the only movies that meet this criteria for me or even necessarily the ones I want to see the most, but it is a good overall example. When perusing this lineup one may ask "Why in the world is THAT on here?". We are all different, with our own likes and dislikes and our own special reasoning for those preferences. Some of the films listed are very famous, most are not.

(NOTE: These are listed neither alphabetically, chronologically nor in order of importance)

They Won't Forget (1937) Claude Rains, a red hot murder/rape trial in the deep South and Lana Turner in a tight sweater. Tell me that's not a combination for a swell sounding film.

Trade Winds (1938) Joan Bennett is one of my favorite actresses (hence her appearance more than once on this list) and this film changed the course of her career with a simple hair color change. Plus it sounds cute and has the irresistible Ann Sothern.

Citizen Kane (1941) I know what you're thinking, "A fellow writes about classic movies and he's never seen one of the MOST classic!." What can I say, I was never a huge Orson Welles fan, but I've heard so much about it, I'm intrigued.

Meet John Doe (1941) Two of my favorite stars, Gary Cooper and Barbara Stanwyck at their peak with Frank Capra along for direction.

Forbidden (1932) Pre-Code Stanwyck directed by Capra and a really attention catching title.

Hotel for Women (1939) So elusive I've never even seen evidence of a television screening. This was Linda Darnell's film debut. Though no award winning classic, it sounds like fun with two long time favorites Ann Sothern and Lynn Bari in tow.

The Sign of the Cross (1932) Cecil B. DeMille directing a Pre-Code epic set in decadent, ancient Rome in which Claudette Colbert bathes in a giant pool of asses milk (no joke!).

House Across the Bay (1940) Joan Bennett again, this time in a drama with George Raft, whose usually very watchable.

Hound of the Baskervilles (1939) Classic film version of a classic tale. Basil Rathbone's first offering as the famous British sleuth, Sherlock Holmes. Lead to the long running movie series.

All Through the Night (1942) I like early 40's Bogart, but somehow missed this one. Also, my aunt, a big Bogie fan, had this poster in her home when I was a little tot. Good memories.

Hands Across the Table (1935) 1930's screwball comedy with Carole Lombard and Fred MacMurray. Sounds great to me.

Trail of the Lonesome Pine (1936) Another Fred MacMurray flick that from what I understand, is similar in atmosphere to Shepherd of the Hills, one of my favorite movies. Henry Hathaway directed both. I also feel that MacMurray was a much underrated actor.

Mandalay (1934) I like a good Kay Francis flick, though I haven't seen that many of them. From what I've been told, this is a perfect example of Kay at her pinnacle.

Some of these films are from Paramount Studios before 1948 and the MCA company bought this library with little distribution in recent years, therefore my lack of viewing opportunities. But others have been televised often or have been released on VHS and DVD for years now and I, alas, have just not taken the opportunity to fit them in to a busy and tight film viewing schedule. Whether you like the films on this log or in some cases don't, I hope you find it of some interest.

My Darling Clementine: An American Classic

One of the truly classic movies in American cinema, My Darling Clementine (1946), is a thinking man's western. Although there's plenty of liquor, card playing and rootin' tootin' shootin', director John Ford's masterpiece offers up the gripping action as secondary to its powerful and nuanced characterizations and atmospheric depiction of the Old West legend. Though a romanticized and somewhat fictionalized account of the infamous gunfight at the OK corral, it is nonetheless a stunning piece of storytelling on film.

The movie stars Henry Fonda as legendary lawman Wyatt Earp, who, with his brothers, is herding cattle through the Arizona Territory, from Mexico to California. They meet up with a passel of scraggly looking cowpokes who introduce themselves as the Clantons. Old Man Clanton (Walter Brennan, in an uncharacteristically villainous role) offers to buy the Earps' herd for less than they paid for it in Mexico. When the offer is refused, the brothers are directed to the nearby town of Tombstone, to refresh themselves with "a shave and a beer." While in town, their cattle is stolen and the youngest brother, left to guard the herd, murdered. Though the Clanton gang is the natural suspect, nothing can be proved. Wyatt takes on the job of marshal of Tombstone, which has been offered to him by the local gentry.

Upon acceptance as marshal, Wyatt meets the other residents of town who's lives intertwine to create the rich fabric of the film. Chihauhau (Linda Darnell) is an exotic half breed floozy who sings at the local saloon. It's never really established what her native background is though its inferred by her physical appearance and some scant phrases that she's Mexican, yet at one point when Earp is chastising her for trying to cheat at a card game, he threatens to run her "back to the Apache reservation." She is also the lover of John "Doc" Holliday (Victor Mature), an alcoholic gambler suffering from tuberculosis, who more or less runs the town and has an established reputation for killing. He and Earp form a kind of odd camaraderie, with traces of animosity on the part of Holliday and suspicion from the marshal.

The film's title, strangely enough, has very little to do with the central storyline. It refers to Clementine Carter, the well bred eastern lady friend of Doc Holliday, who comes west in search of the tortured consumptive gun slinger. She is played by Cathy Downs, a little known actress who was a contract player at 20th Century-Fox, where the film was made. The contrast between her quiet meekness and Darnell's fiery wild cat, delineate the difference between Holliday's happier, more civilized past and his tempestuous and melancholy present. The story culminates with the legendary gunfight between the Earps, with Holliday at their side, and the lawless Clanton gang.

Joseph MacDonald's cinematography is shot in deep focus black and white with gorgeous outdoor photography of the desert plains at various hours of the day. As well, the interior scenes are masterfully choreographed, each shot framed for both artistic and dramatic effect. Ford carefully paces the film, its never rushed but by the same token, its not slow moving by a long shot. His use of folk music and hymns lend to the feel of Americana so prevalent in his work. Henry Fonda, as Wyatt Earp, has quiet strength, as he so often does in roles played before and after this. With the arrival of Clementine Carter, Fonda's Wyatt, smitten with the refined easterner, evolves from scruffy cowhand cum lawman into a groomed, perfumed attendant, ready to protect or escort the young lady whichever may be required of him.

As the emotionally tortured Doc Holliday, Victor Mature gives what is arguably his finest performance. When a traveling ham actor (Alan Mowbray) can't finish reciting Hamlet's suicide soliloquy due to his drunkenness, Mature, as the educated Holliday, finishes the scene, giving an admirable rendition of Shakespeare. Ward Bond, always a Ford favorite, plays Wyatt's brother, Morgan. Interestingly, Bond was in the two previous filmizations of the Earp story. Gorgeous Linda Darnell, with her 1940's hairdo and make-up, does fine as the loose and luscious Chihuahua. Most likely her ranking of second billing in the film, after Fonda and before Mature, had more to do with studio politics and star potential than of her characters importance to the story. Chihauhau was one of a slew of sluts and wanton women Darnell was cast as in the mid and late Forties.

The story of My Darling Clementine has been documented to film numerous times, most notably as Frontier Marshal (1939), Gunfight at the OK Corral (1957), Tombstone (1993) and Wyatt Earp (1994), but none have the superior poetic quality that Ford's film emanates. A master of the genre, the director captivates and entertains, something that few westerns, from any era, can profess to do.