At forty two, Audie Murphy looked considerably younger in this revenge tale of an outlaw crossing the Mexican border back into Arizona to avenge the murder of his newspaper editor brother. Jess Carlin's (Murphy) criminal past is never elaborated on in the story, so you have to take it on faith that he was a wanted man, at least in the town of Rimrock where most of the action takes place. Rimrock is run by town boss Luke Starr (Broderick Crawford), behind the murder of Roy Carlin, and making life difficult for younger brother.There's a cool early scene in which Jess Carlin enters a saloon and one of the poker table chairs is empty. A man strumming a guitar sings a line of a song warning Jess not to sit in on the game, advice taken by the gunslinger. Right after that, Carlin guns down two bounty hunters, leaving the first one alive, a former friend who needed the bounty money for a sick wife. Murphy plays the scene with a conviction that he didn't need to kill his opponent once the dust settled, something you don't see very often in a Western.You know, there wouldn't have even been a story here if one of Starr's henchmen had been a better shot with his rifle. From a fairly good vantage point, the outlaw missed and Jess Carlin escaped the ambush attempt to make his way to Rimrock. Now here's what bothered me about the story. The bad guys were willing to take out Carlin early on, but once he was in town at close range, even face to face at times, none of the henchmen ever made a play. They could have ganged up on Carlin at any point leaving Luke Starr unscathed, just the way they did with whiskey salesman Boyd Thompson (Gereard Tichy). But then I guess, the hero wouldn't have made it to the end of the picture.A couple other observations - before he had to press the point with the Woodstock Hotel desk clerk, Jess was offered a room at three dollars a day with plenty of windows and a bed with springs. Can't you just see Best Western using that as a selling point in one of their ads today? And I really have to search my memory for what point in time it became OK to show a nude woman on screen in a theatrical film. Not a live actor, but that painting of a reclining woman with a breast exposed displayed over the bar of the Silver Ring Saloon seemed rather scandalous for a 1966 movie. They didn't show naked women at Woodstock until 1969.

The Texican is directed by Lesley Selander and written by John C. Champion and Jose Antonio de la Loma. It stars Audie Murphy, Broderick Crawford, Diana Lorys, Luz Marquez and Antonio Casas. A Technicolor/Techniscope production with music by Nico Fidenco and Robby Poitevin and cinematography by Francisco Marin. Murphy and Crawford find themselves in Spain making a Paella Western that quite frankly is for completists only. Plot essentially has Murphy as a man seeking the truth of what happened to his recently deceased brother. Crawford is the town bully, resplendent with scowls and henchmen, a collision course is inevitable. It's professionally enough mounted and has the requisite pasta flavourings; clumsy dubbing, parched vistas, catchy music, moral ambiguity and etc etc. It's not a bad film by any stretch of the imagination, it's just very lazy and not challenging, either narratively or for the named stars. In the traditional sense it's a throwback to the American "B" Westerns of the 1950s, only it lacks zip for the action scenes and the stars are going through the motions. But fair credit to Murphy, he looks in great condition, as slick as ever, something which belies the problems he was having with his mental health off screen. Crawford on the other hand looks ill and fumbles through his dialogue with boredom evident. Average fare here all told. 5/10

Wanted for murder, a Texas fugitive (Audie Murphy) has been living in Mexico, returning to America to even a score: the murder of his gun-less newspaper editor brother at the hands of brutal killer, Lucas Starr (Broderick Crawford). In the opening minutes, we get a good taste of exactly what kind of bastard Starr is as he shoots an unarmed man in cold blood, having his gunman blast a rider (a witness to Starr's criminal behavior, the "man who knew too much") in the back as he was given permission to ride his horse out of a relay station near a town of Rimrock (Crawford allows the victim to get a little ahead just so he could think he was about safe!). Shot in Barcelona, Spain, it gives this western an exotic Spaghetti western flavor, with Murphy able to escape the usual stock B-movie studio film. Laconic and steely-eyed as always, Murphy, even as he is thin and short, is appealing to me for those very unique features—somehow, even though he doesn't necessarily "look the part", Murphy, because we know of his heroism on the battlefield in war, manages to rise above what many would conceive as weaknesses in stature on screen. While not a man one would perceive as scary to outlaws and cutthroats based on his looks alone, because we know of his courage in real life, it translates on screen. Still, I like how he often had characters who made mistakes, were flawed and had dabbled in crime, yet contained a humanity and acceptance of responsibility for their actions, willing to admit fault and wanting forgiveness, Murphy's gunslingers achieved a level of sympathy. But without a solid heel, a real nasty villain to oppose him, I'm not sure Murphy's B-oaters would have the same appeal to me. I hope to see one of those in the future to judge for myself. This film does follow the traditional western story and the shootouts (particularly at the end) lack the "Leone touch" other Italian directors had adopted rather effectively (the use of the zoom lens, the quick cut editing showing how quick the anti-heroes are on the draw, the coverage of setting). Director Selander, despite instances where the film feels like it wants to be a spaghetti western, directs "The Texican" as close to a standard Audie Murphy film as possible. You always see him clutch the shot glass of whiskey, never drinking it, Murphy confronts his foes without cowardice, there's the unfair, let-it-all-hang-out barroom brawl where Murphy must take on more than one man (and win), the oft-used "investigation" where Murphy's flawed hero looks for the man who shot his brother in cold blood (a concho from a leather gun belt the evidence tying the murder to Crawford), the love interest (Diana Lorys) that develops for the aggressive Murphy who goes out of his way to court her, etc. For some reason, the final gunfight lacks oomph even when Murphy guns down three men "Man with No Name" style and goes into Crawford's saloon waiting to get a piece of his adversary's hide…it just lacks that va va voom we have come to expect in a western that builds to what should be an epic showdown. It kind of whimpers out. In actuality, this film pads a pretty simple story out using the Lorys romance (and Murphy's scenes with his dead brother's leather-repairing, cattle selling fiancé); the film really could be a one hour western episode of "Have Gun Will Travel" to tell you the truth. While his methods are cruel and heartless, Crawford seems uninspired here, going through the motions, maybe it is because he is in a western that kind of disappears into the crowd of 60s westerns, not solid enough to stand out in any way.

Audie Murphy, as usual, was believable in his role. The addition of Broderick Crawford added to "weight" of the characters. I found it to be a good and enjoyable movie.