I'd love to be able to say I love "Dodge City", but to be honest I can't. The film's got a lot going for it -- wisecracking script, bright colour, great music, and moments of sudden shocking darkness amid a generally easy-going plot -- but while it's pretty good, it isn't Errol Flynn's finest hour, and it isn't among the greatest Westerns either. Enjoy -- yes; love -- no.
This was Flynn's first Western, and he doesn't really look at home among the grizzled cast: he's too fair-skinned for that weatherbeaten crew, too well-groomed in a world of straggly facial hair (the trademark Flynn pencil moustache isn't really appropriate here), too neatly dressed to fit in with the rest of the town, and a somewhat self-conscious grin has a tendency to turn up at inappropriate moments (as he disclaims the role of Sheriff, for example), suggesting that he was not entirely certain of himself in the part. A whole-hearted flashing smile is in evidence for the comedy scenes, on the other hand, which are probably the film's strong point: a quality script is matched by Flynn's own natural aptitude for mischief, and by a transparently genuine bond between him, Alan Hale and Guinn Williams as a cheerful scene-stealing threesome.
Considered as a Western, "Dodge City" is admittedly a ripe collection of clichés, from the gold spike driven into the final sleeper to the cattle stampede, the villain threatening the crusading journalist, the lynch mob at the jail, the dance-hall queen, the poker game, the corrupt saloon owner, the horses galloping alongside the speeding train, the men clambering over its roof... the list goes on and on, with very little original in it save -- oddly enough -- for the involvement of Abigail Irving. The tragedy at the beginning that antagonises de Havilland's character from Flynn's is not out of the standard wagon train story, and the sequences where Abbie finds herself employment as a columnist in a newspaper office -- to the disapproval of Wade, of her uncle, and everyone else -- are among the most striking in the film.
It's odd, because this picture isn't an especially good vehicle for Olivia de Havilland; her character is completely wasted during the final showdown (despite being the only one to notice what is going on, she is used simply as a liability to the men), she has relatively little screen-time compared to the male trio, and with the exception of the newspaper-office scenes, the character has little to do save look pretty. It is to Miss de Havilland's credit that she manages to make as much of it as she does.
"Dodge City" doesn't boast a particularly complicated morality, a particularly nail-biting plot or a particularly rich set of characterisations. For all its Technicolor and A-list casting, it's at heart a B-movie writ large, from the era when Saturday-morning horse opera serials were standard fare and big-budget Westerns were just taking off: the next thirty years would produce some classics of the genre, but this isn't one of them. It's amiable enough, but Errol Flynn never looks quite right under a cowboy hat, and the part isn't really tailored to his strengths -- he and de Havilland would do better in their final 'Western' picture together, "They Died with their Boots On", as the arrogant, talented, colourful and insubordinate General Custer and Libby, his strong-minded wife.
To the viewer who likes Westerns, this is a glossy and entertaining example; to the viewer who likes Flynn, there is a sufficient dose of humour and romance. But I have to admit that this particular film probably isn't going to win over converts from those not already that way inclined.
This was Flynn's first Western, and he doesn't really look at home among the grizzled cast: he's too fair-skinned for that weatherbeaten crew, too well-groomed in a world of straggly facial hair (the trademark Flynn pencil moustache isn't really appropriate here), too neatly dressed to fit in with the rest of the town, and a somewhat self-conscious grin has a tendency to turn up at inappropriate moments (as he disclaims the role of Sheriff, for example), suggesting that he was not entirely certain of himself in the part. A whole-hearted flashing smile is in evidence for the comedy scenes, on the other hand, which are probably the film's strong point: a quality script is matched by Flynn's own natural aptitude for mischief, and by a transparently genuine bond between him, Alan Hale and Guinn Williams as a cheerful scene-stealing threesome.
Considered as a Western, "Dodge City" is admittedly a ripe collection of clichés, from the gold spike driven into the final sleeper to the cattle stampede, the villain threatening the crusading journalist, the lynch mob at the jail, the dance-hall queen, the poker game, the corrupt saloon owner, the horses galloping alongside the speeding train, the men clambering over its roof... the list goes on and on, with very little original in it save -- oddly enough -- for the involvement of Abigail Irving. The tragedy at the beginning that antagonises de Havilland's character from Flynn's is not out of the standard wagon train story, and the sequences where Abbie finds herself employment as a columnist in a newspaper office -- to the disapproval of Wade, of her uncle, and everyone else -- are among the most striking in the film.
It's odd, because this picture isn't an especially good vehicle for Olivia de Havilland; her character is completely wasted during the final showdown (despite being the only one to notice what is going on, she is used simply as a liability to the men), she has relatively little screen-time compared to the male trio, and with the exception of the newspaper-office scenes, the character has little to do save look pretty. It is to Miss de Havilland's credit that she manages to make as much of it as she does.
"Dodge City" doesn't boast a particularly complicated morality, a particularly nail-biting plot or a particularly rich set of characterisations. For all its Technicolor and A-list casting, it's at heart a B-movie writ large, from the era when Saturday-morning horse opera serials were standard fare and big-budget Westerns were just taking off: the next thirty years would produce some classics of the genre, but this isn't one of them. It's amiable enough, but Errol Flynn never looks quite right under a cowboy hat, and the part isn't really tailored to his strengths -- he and de Havilland would do better in their final 'Western' picture together, "They Died with their Boots On", as the arrogant, talented, colourful and insubordinate General Custer and Libby, his strong-minded wife.
To the viewer who likes Westerns, this is a glossy and entertaining example; to the viewer who likes Flynn, there is a sufficient dose of humour and romance. But I have to admit that this particular film probably isn't going to win over converts from those not already that way inclined.