Now I know how Bosley Crowther got his job at The New York Times. He's really on the ball, that guy. He managed to follow the plot of The Law West of Tombstone with only a quarter of the trouble I had. I couldn't make head or tail of the movie at all. Come "The End" title and I was still up in the air, so I started to watch the film again. Half an hour in, I still couldn't catch on to the plot, so I threw in the towel. Is Harry Carey supposed to be a good guy pretending to be a bad guy or a bad guy pretending to be a good guy? Bosley infers that the Carey character is supposed to be both! Now why didn't I think of that? In fact, Bosley goes many steps further. He even tackles the Tim Holt character as well. I couldn't for the life of me sort out whether Tim was a good guy pretending to be a bad guy or a bad guy pretending to be a good guy. But Bosley infers that Tim was playing a good guy who becomes a bad guy who becomes a good guy. See, it's easy if you know your movies! Bosley even sorts out what Evelyn Brent is doing in the story. I assumed her character was a just a bit touched in the head. But no! Bosley tells us that she is actually the Carey character's daughter who is unaware that Carey is her dad – and that in any case, she thinks he is dead. It's absolutely wonderful how you can infer all this just by watching The Law West of Tombstone! I didn't get any of these points at all. I found the screenplay both utterly dull and wholly confusing. Of course, Bosley had an RKO Press Book to keep him on the right track, but I just slapped the excellent Warner Archive DVD on to the machine without doing any research at all. I don't like to know a movie's plot in advance. I like to watch it unfold without having any ideas as to how it will all turn out. That's a stupid quirk, I know, but I guess I'm stuck with it!

Harry Carey plays a combination character in the lead role of The Law West Of Tombstone. He's a quick draw and a deadly shot in the tradition of Wild Bill Hickok and can spin a yarn better than Baron Munchausen. Those talents have served him well in his career in this film and like Judge Roy Bean, he's declared himself the law in the newly forming town of Martinez, Arizona as Mayor and Justice of the Peace.This was obviously a more ambitious undertaking of a film than what arrived for the movie-going public of 1938. There are whole chunks of this that obviously were left on the cutting room floor and you have to bridge quite a lot to get a coherent story.Tim Holt plays a young protégé of sorts for Carey, a young outlaw he'd like to see settle down. And Evelyn Brent plays Carey's daughter who doesn't know she's his daughter. But this film is strictly Carey's show. Allan Lane who later was a cowboy hero himself plays a young outlaw who shoots it out with Holt and comes up short and dead.It's an unusual western and one I'd like to have seen a director's cut of, but that sure isn't likely.

THE LAW WEST OF TOMBSTONE (1938) doesn't play like a standard Hollywood western, either A or B. It's more like what you'd get if you took two short stories based on a colorful, larger-than-life western character and merged them together and made a film out of it. It's much more character-driven than plot-driven. A handful of lively, eccentric characters with wildly varying agendas are thrown on screen together and let loose in a tiny Texas town hoping to see some growth from a new railroad station.Harry Carey Sr. plays Bill Barker, a tall-tale-spinning westerner with big dreams but little capital. In the opening scene, set in New York in 1881, he rides a carriage at high speed down Broadway and tries to con a Wall Street tycoon who's a little too smart for him. Back in Texas, he finds himself elected mayor of Martinez, thanks to his ability to dazzle a crowd with extemporaneous big talk. He takes a local outlaw under his wing, the Tonto Kid (Tim Holt), and tries to get him to straighten out, especially after the boy takes a liking to a newly arrived young lady who happens to be Barker's daughter, a relationship she has no knowledge of, having been raised to think her father died a hero at Gettysburg. Which is exactly how Barker wants it.There are Indians, whose movements are manipulated to benefit different factions, and corrupt ranchers seeking to deprive rivals of available water resources. There are dance hall girls whose function is never spelled out but is quite evident nonetheless. Everything happens at its own pace and if you come into this expecting—or demanding—the usual western formula you will allow the film's considerable virtues to fly right over your head.In the few writings I've seen on this film, much is made of the central characters' resemblance to certain western historical figures, e.g. Judge Roy Bean, Billy the Kid and the Clanton Gang. As someone who's read quite a bit of western history, I find the characters presented here unique enough to stand on their own as memorable fictional figures and the tale, as spun here, more in keeping with folklore than with history.

Well, Fellini didn't direct this one, but at times it sure seems like it. This is one odd-ball movie, with plotlines that appear out of nowhere and disappear into the same place, character motivations David Lynch couldn't understand, and behavior that sometimes suggests that everyone in the film and everyone who made it was hitting the peyote a little too hard. Harry Carey well plays Bill Barker, and one presumes he is the hero of the piece, though he gets enough undisputed disrespect from respectable characters that sometimes it's hard to know whether he's the moral center or just a none-too-bright gasbag. Tim Holt is good as the Tonto Kid, but everyone else is either not very good or is just mired so deep in the confusion that it's not possible to distinguish their talent. It's almost impossible to disentangle the plotlines, although it's fairly clear that one of them involves Barker's attempts to make a good life for the daughter he never knew. The rest of it is pretty much a jumble, and the confrontations between Barker and the McQuinn gang, and in particular a bizarre game of Russian roulette between Barker and the Tonto Kid simply defy rational explanation. And what in the world was Ward Bond doing in this--not WHY was he in it, but WHAT was he doing? He appears to be channelling his John L. Sullivan character from "Gentleman Jim," funnelled through Pancho Villa. But the purpose and intent of the character are just two of the manifold mysteries of this weird little melange. Just about the strangest thing I've ever seen that wasn't meant to be strange.