Rating: D+
Dir: Robert N. Bradbury
Star: Bob Steele, Kay McCoy, George ‘Gabby’ Hayes, John Elliott
There’s no accounting for history. One estimate says, of the sound films made between 1927 and 1950, half of them have been lost for one reason or another. The list of missing works includes historically important movies like Michael Powell’s feature debut, Two Crowded Hours, and Universal’s first sound feature, The Melody of Love. But somehow, a forgettable B-movie Western like this has survived. There’s no justice. Especially when we should be absolutely clear: despite the title, this does not take place in Tombstone, and contains no terror whatsoever. It’s not even filmed in our state, with Garner Valley in Riverside County, California, a far from convincing stand-in for Southern Arizona. Far too many trees, for a start.
This film is so cheap, it has no incidental music at all, except for an opening theme which would be a better fit for a Little Rascals short. The movie runs a mere fifty-four minutes, though it would probably be normal feature length if not for the frequent undercranking. This makes the galloping horses look more like roadrunners, as they whizz across the screen. The fistfights are similarly sped-up, the makers apparently wanting to get to the end as quickly as possible. Can’t say I blame them. I’m not even sure what era it’s supposed to be. I’d presume classic Old West times, but there’s a very modern looking Cadillac sedan that suggests otherwise.
The plot sees Steele, who was actually the director’s son, playing Jimmy Dixon, who comes back to the family Double-O Ranch, which is not the Bond reference it now seems. He left a few years ago, after being blamed for the actions of his twin brother Duke (also Steele), and is returning after taking part in a Mexican revolution: “I’d have been a General by now, but they ran out of ammunition.” Duke has run the ranch into the ground, much to the despair of the brothers’ bedridden father (Elliott). When Duke heads off to Phoenix, Jimmy takes his place, getting mixed up in Duke’s rustling shenanigans, as well as both his women. There’s nice girl, Jean Adams (McCoy), daughter of another rancher, and a Phoenix phloozie, the owner of the sedan.
It’s all pretty ludicrous, with the twin thing already a threadbare cliché by this point. Hard to believe nobody notices the switch of brothers, not least because Duke dresses entirely in black (another Western cliché) while Jimmy sports the requisite white hat. It’s only when the phloozie drives back from “Duke” in Tombstone, and finds the real Duke in Phoenix, that the deception is revealed. The efforts to conceal how Steele is playing both roles are limited. The actor actually had a twin in real-life, but the makers couldn’t be bothered to go all Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2, and bring in the brother. The only life to be found here is from Hayes, as incoherent farm-hand Soupy Baxter. He’d go on to fame playing a sidekick to Roy Rodgers, Gene Autry and John Wayne, and is definitely too good for this movie.