There seems to be little connection between this story of "Legs" Diamond, who rose and fell, from bodyguard to mob boss to mob target in the 1920s, and the series of effective and inexpensive Westerns that Budd Boetticher had directed in the previous ten years. Too bad.
The best of Boetticher's Randolph Scott Westerns has some good characterization and some occasionally fine dialog. Scott was always a taciturn man of principle who functioned as a kind of anchor for the other figures. The best of the stories had colorful villains and sidekicks like Lee Marvin and Richard Boone, outlaws with YEARNING.
Alas, there is no Randolph Scott here. The central figure is Jack "Legs" Diamond, played by the marmorial Ray Danton, who was one of those actors, like Michael Ansara, much better at playing painted Sioux Indians than anything else. Karen Steele (Mrs. Boetticher at the time) is his loving wife for whom he cares nothing. She's a competent actress except when she needs to play a drunk, which is awful, and then she's one of those drunks that is embarrassing to watch.
As for colorful villains, they're noticeably absent too. Oh, there are villains aplenty. Everybody is a villain or a weakling. But they're formulaic. They think of nobody but themselves. They have no unfulfilled desires, no spiritual qualities. Diamond himself sheds his friends, or vice versa. He even allows his crippled brother to die because his enemies are "getting to me through him." Well -- the bottom line is, if anybody makes you vulnerable, get rid of him.
The best scene? Jesse White is a rival gangster who has tried to kill Diamond. White and his body guards visit an empty German restaurant, and, instead of the Dunkel that White ordered, Diamond emerges from the dumbwaiter carrying a Tommy gun. He makes White get on his knees and beg for his life while the poor guy is still trying to swallow his sauerkraut. It's the best scene in the movie in that it's the most amusing scene, but it's hardly memorable.
After this production, Budd Boetticher was to go on a vision quest in Mexico where he wound up broke, living in roach-ridden motels and eating burritos. That's fine when you're in your teens or 20s but Boetticher was in his 40s. And that's a different story. To quote Philip Marlowe, "It was the kind of place I was always afraid I'd wind up in -- alone and broke." Still, a man of considerable probity, Boetticher will be remembered for those cheap Randolph Scott gem stones.
The best of Boetticher's Randolph Scott Westerns has some good characterization and some occasionally fine dialog. Scott was always a taciturn man of principle who functioned as a kind of anchor for the other figures. The best of the stories had colorful villains and sidekicks like Lee Marvin and Richard Boone, outlaws with YEARNING.
Alas, there is no Randolph Scott here. The central figure is Jack "Legs" Diamond, played by the marmorial Ray Danton, who was one of those actors, like Michael Ansara, much better at playing painted Sioux Indians than anything else. Karen Steele (Mrs. Boetticher at the time) is his loving wife for whom he cares nothing. She's a competent actress except when she needs to play a drunk, which is awful, and then she's one of those drunks that is embarrassing to watch.
As for colorful villains, they're noticeably absent too. Oh, there are villains aplenty. Everybody is a villain or a weakling. But they're formulaic. They think of nobody but themselves. They have no unfulfilled desires, no spiritual qualities. Diamond himself sheds his friends, or vice versa. He even allows his crippled brother to die because his enemies are "getting to me through him." Well -- the bottom line is, if anybody makes you vulnerable, get rid of him.
The best scene? Jesse White is a rival gangster who has tried to kill Diamond. White and his body guards visit an empty German restaurant, and, instead of the Dunkel that White ordered, Diamond emerges from the dumbwaiter carrying a Tommy gun. He makes White get on his knees and beg for his life while the poor guy is still trying to swallow his sauerkraut. It's the best scene in the movie in that it's the most amusing scene, but it's hardly memorable.
After this production, Budd Boetticher was to go on a vision quest in Mexico where he wound up broke, living in roach-ridden motels and eating burritos. That's fine when you're in your teens or 20s but Boetticher was in his 40s. And that's a different story. To quote Philip Marlowe, "It was the kind of place I was always afraid I'd wind up in -- alone and broke." Still, a man of considerable probity, Boetticher will be remembered for those cheap Randolph Scott gem stones.