Warren Hull, a decent actor with a face that is neither handsome nor ugly but as interesting as a hard-boiled egg, escapes from jail somewhere in the East. He manages to hitch hike his way to southern Arizona where he meets a dog he calls Wolf in the middle of the Sonoran desert.
First things first. This really IS the Sonoran desert, not a studio mock up. It's surprising, almost shocking, to see location shooting like this in a B movie. Yet there it is in all its overheated glory -- saguaro cactus, cholla, ocotillo, palo verdes, and rocky bluffs that don't look the slightest bit Californian.
Hull is trailed through the desert by a half dozen howling wolves, but one of them detaches himself from the pack and joins Hull as a companion. "Wolf" isn't really a wolf. He's a German shepherd apparently kicked out by his owner. This is some dog. His ears are so big they're almost fluorescent and they stand straight up like Batman's. And that TONGUE. Wolf constantly slavers away with this organ hanging a foot out of his mouth.
They say a man's best friend is a dog, but I consider that to be no more than propaganda perpetrated by dog people. Cats don't have that disgusting habit of panting and drooling hydrophobia all over the place. And they don't make a lot of noise either, not if you kick them properly once in a while. I camped several times in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument with my cat Bandido. There were no wolves but in the evening Bandido and I heard the far-off yipping of coyotes. Well, man, did Bandido's hair stand on end or what. I couldn't stop laughing. He was frightened too by the numerous Western Diamondback rattlesnakes that emerged at twilight, but it must be admitted that they were fiendishly defensive when approached.
Anyway, back to Warren Hull and Wolf, baking in the desert, both pretty chipper considering their circumstances. Finally they reach town -- Tempe, Arizona, just southeast of Phoenix. Tempe, home of Arizona State University, was a small town when this was shot, and even when I stayed there a generation or two later, with a chuckwalla squeezed into every other rock crevice in the vacant lots, a charming, laid back little city with vest pocket parks and Mexican fan palms. Now it's a pristine and expensive example of urban sprawl.
Hull meets Isabel Jewell, a nice young blond who invites him in for a snack. She's not a Hollywood beauty nor a bravura actress. Her high, piping, girlish voice is a handicap but she's still appealing in her innocent in her lust for a bourgeois life with a husband and a cottage to call home. As I watched Hull sitting there, chatting with Jewell, I couldn't help wondering why he was so well dressed and groomed -- clean shirt, tie, proper haircut -- and what exactly he'd been eating while hitching across the country without any money. Well, some things man was never meant to know. Jewell's father happens to be a doctor in need of a handyman and Hull fits the bill.
Hull becomes a popular fellow in town and he and Jewell decide to marry. Alas, the local cop twigs to Hull's identity as an escaped convict and -- well, then things get really improbably. The same gang with which he broke out of the slams shows up accidentally in little Tempe and robs the bank. Hull feigns joining them, in hopes of finding a way to prove his innocence. He succeeds and marries the girl wearing stockings with seams that run up the back.
I've kind of made fun of it but it's not a bad movie. It's diverting in its unpretentious way and not without some charm. It isn't helped, though, by clumsy editing, crude direction, impossible coincidences, and loopholes in the plot.
First things first. This really IS the Sonoran desert, not a studio mock up. It's surprising, almost shocking, to see location shooting like this in a B movie. Yet there it is in all its overheated glory -- saguaro cactus, cholla, ocotillo, palo verdes, and rocky bluffs that don't look the slightest bit Californian.
Hull is trailed through the desert by a half dozen howling wolves, but one of them detaches himself from the pack and joins Hull as a companion. "Wolf" isn't really a wolf. He's a German shepherd apparently kicked out by his owner. This is some dog. His ears are so big they're almost fluorescent and they stand straight up like Batman's. And that TONGUE. Wolf constantly slavers away with this organ hanging a foot out of his mouth.
They say a man's best friend is a dog, but I consider that to be no more than propaganda perpetrated by dog people. Cats don't have that disgusting habit of panting and drooling hydrophobia all over the place. And they don't make a lot of noise either, not if you kick them properly once in a while. I camped several times in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument with my cat Bandido. There were no wolves but in the evening Bandido and I heard the far-off yipping of coyotes. Well, man, did Bandido's hair stand on end or what. I couldn't stop laughing. He was frightened too by the numerous Western Diamondback rattlesnakes that emerged at twilight, but it must be admitted that they were fiendishly defensive when approached.
Anyway, back to Warren Hull and Wolf, baking in the desert, both pretty chipper considering their circumstances. Finally they reach town -- Tempe, Arizona, just southeast of Phoenix. Tempe, home of Arizona State University, was a small town when this was shot, and even when I stayed there a generation or two later, with a chuckwalla squeezed into every other rock crevice in the vacant lots, a charming, laid back little city with vest pocket parks and Mexican fan palms. Now it's a pristine and expensive example of urban sprawl.
Hull meets Isabel Jewell, a nice young blond who invites him in for a snack. She's not a Hollywood beauty nor a bravura actress. Her high, piping, girlish voice is a handicap but she's still appealing in her innocent in her lust for a bourgeois life with a husband and a cottage to call home. As I watched Hull sitting there, chatting with Jewell, I couldn't help wondering why he was so well dressed and groomed -- clean shirt, tie, proper haircut -- and what exactly he'd been eating while hitching across the country without any money. Well, some things man was never meant to know. Jewell's father happens to be a doctor in need of a handyman and Hull fits the bill.
Hull becomes a popular fellow in town and he and Jewell decide to marry. Alas, the local cop twigs to Hull's identity as an escaped convict and -- well, then things get really improbably. The same gang with which he broke out of the slams shows up accidentally in little Tempe and robs the bank. Hull feigns joining them, in hopes of finding a way to prove his innocence. He succeeds and marries the girl wearing stockings with seams that run up the back.
I've kind of made fun of it but it's not a bad movie. It's diverting in its unpretentious way and not without some charm. It isn't helped, though, by clumsy editing, crude direction, impossible coincidences, and loopholes in the plot.