Surely one of the kinkiest westerns that Hollywood has ever presented. Morally bankrupt land baron Walter Huston will do anything to preserve his hold on "the Furies," his highly expansive property. He marries Judith Anderson for her money, alienating clingy daughter Barbara Stanwyck in the process. What ensues is a ruthlessly psychological game of chess between Huston & Stanwyck that does not end well for anyone. High voltage sparks abound between the two stars, heightening the already way over the top drama. Stanwyck burns up the screen with this type of role - hell-bent as all get out and not ashamed to let people know that she'll be stepping on them to get her way. In addition to Anderson, Stanwyck's victims include unsavory saloon owner Wendell Corey, ranch hand/lover Gilbert Roland and John Bromfield as her milquetoast brother. It's all directed at a fevered pitch by Anthony Mann. The overwrought but highly effective music by Franz Waxman is excellent. If Alfred Hitchcock and Sigmund Freud had teamed to come up with a story, it may very well have turned out like this.

Barbara Stanwyck here... Barbara Stanwyck there... Barbara Stanwyck, Barbara Stanwyck everywhere.(Sheesh!) I honestly can't say that I've ever been very impressed with Barbara Stanwyck as an actress.But, after having to put up with her here (as the Vance Jeffords character) as she completely dominated this Western (and dragged it down to the level of being a snivelling, petty Chick Flick), I now loathe her with an undying passion like no other.Personally, I think that director Anthony Mann made a monumental error by allowing Stanwyck's spoilt, vain, rich-girl character to completely take control of The Furies' story.With its excellent location shooting and A-1 camera-work, this Western certainly had a lot of potential to be a really first-rate tale, focusing in on T.C. Jeffords (Vance's father), an arrogant, demanding cattle baron.Set in New Mexico (in the 1870s) - Instead of The Furies being a rough and tough Western yarn, it was all frills and lace with the two-faced, treacherous, spiteful Vance Jeffords forever appearing in one ridiculously expensive gown after another. (Talk about being a total clothes-horse!) I'm certainly pleased and relieved to know that with all of the subsequent Westerns that Mann directed throughout the 1950s, he thankfully kept the tone of his pictures totally masculine and rugged, sans Barbara Stanwyck.

This disappointing movie is a film noir version of "Duel in the Sun". It's much more intelligent and better acted than "Duel", but just like "Duel", it stretches the limits of the Western genre by introducing too much romance and soap opera. I only gave this 4 out of 10 stars in IMDb. It only accumulated 8 points in my ranking system, well below average score of 12. Despite its poor overall ranking, there were quite a few things to like about the movie: Barbara Stanwyck may have played a lot of strong women in her career, but her character is quite unusual for a Western. She does a great job, but unfortunately her role is too hammy. There's a very unusual plot element revolving around the issuance of a private currency and bank loans. The economics in the movie are sophisticated and realistic. Reminded me a lot of the accuracy of 1980's "Trading Places". Barbara Stanwyck has a great line late in the movie, when a town dance hall girl introduces herself, saying, "Hi, My name's Dallas Hart, I'm new here". Stanwyck looks her up and down and says, "Honey, you wouldn't be new anywhere." Wouldn't be surprised if that wasn't an old Mae West line. Nice authentic Arizona locations. Pretty realistic interiors. i.e. when the scene shifts to a soundstage, the rooms feel small and have low ceilings. Ford was good at this also. On the negative side: As I mentioned, it's a pot boiling "Peyton Place with spurs" more than a real Western. This is a common problem in "Land Baron" dramas like "The Big Country". Wendell Corey is very poorly cast as the central romantic lead. This movie desperately needed some charisma in this role. It was obvious they were trying to fit a 1,000 page novel into a two hour movie, which is very hard to do. In this way, it resembles Mann's "Cimarron", which he made a complete mess of ten years later. This movie is much better crafted than "Cimarron", but the extensive summarizing of characters and time passage is obvious. They handle it pretty well overall, but can't keep up. For example, Stanwyck's brother simply disappears from the movie half way through with no explanation. I won't give it away, but expect more of Anthony Mann's obligatory gore and sadism. I could do without all the shootings through the hand, draggings through the fire, spurs in the neck etc.

There's a lot of Freudian subtext in this unusual 1950 Western, but what resonates most is how director Anthony Mann so smoothly transcends the testosterone-driven genre to come up with an entertaining hybrid of a woman's picture and a Greek tragedy. At the dynamic core of this film is the masterstroke of casting Walter Huston (in his last screen role) and Barbara Stanwyck as a spendthrift father and his headstrong daughter at odds over running the expansive ranch that gives the movie its name. In Roman mythology, the Furies were supernatural personifications of the anger of the dead. As females, they represent regeneration and the potency of creation, which both consumes and empowers. It is this single-minded sense of empowerment that drives Vance Jeffords to usurp her wily father T.C. while seeking his approval at the same time.Set in 1870's New Mexico, the story written by Charles Schnee ("The Bad and the Beautiful") is steeped in not-so-indiscreet psychological baggage. T.C. lives by his own rules by borrowing liberally from banks, paying hired hands with his own script, and allowing Mexican settlers to live off his land. Unlike her weak-willed brother, Vance enjoys provoking her father but to what end is never clear as an unacknowledged cloud of incest hangs over their strange relationship. At the same time, T.C. has a sworn enemy in gambler Rip Darrow who is looking to avenge his father's death at T.C.'s hands. Vance falls for Darrow, but she's also drawn to Juan Herrera, a childhood friend and one of the Mexicans now considered squatters. Complicating matters even more is the arrival of T.C.'s pretentious fiancée Flo Burnett, a devious socialite out to rid the ranch of the Mexicans and push Vance aside as the female head of the beleaguered family. This ploy leads to a most shocking scene that fits well within the story's noirish shadings.As T.C., Huston gives a grand performance evoking both as the old prospector in his son John's "The Treasure of Sierra Madre" and the conflicted industrialist in William Wyler's "Dodsworth". Although a bit old for her role at 43, Stanwyck combines her no-nonsense manner with a childlike vulnerability in illuminating Vance's most complex psyche. This is excellent work from an actress who always seemed home on the range. Generally a pliable third lead in films ("Rear Window"), Wendell Corey doesn't lend charisma or a convincing edge to his swagger as Darrow, but Gilbert Roland shines in the smallish role of Juan and strikes sparks with Stanwyck that should have happened with Corey. However, it is Judith Anderson (Mrs. Danvers in "Rebecca") who steals her brief scenes as Flo bringing out a palpable tension with Stanwyck in their almost-comically cutting scenes together (pardon the pun!). Veteran character actress Beulah Bondi also has a nice near-cameo as a banker's wife fully aware of her husband's prideful shortcomings.The intensely passionate movie swirls in all its psycho-sexual emotionalism and Shakespearean-level acts of murder, revenge and greed, but oddly (and perhaps due to the edicts of studio censors), Mann applies the brakes in the disappointing final portion of the film. Still, it's well worth viewing in the new Criterion Collection's 2008 release chock-full of extras. First, there is the meticulously academic commentary track by Western author Jim Kitses ("Horizons West"). Then there is an interesting 17-minute interview with Mann ("Actions Speak Louder Than Words") conducted just prior to his death in 1967. Another interview is offered with Mann's daughter Nina specifically for this release as she recalls her father's often underrated body of work. More of a curio is a silly, obviously scripted 1931 interview with Huston where he evasively responds to the vacuous questions of a pretty reporter. The original theatrical trailer and a stills gallery round out the extras.