Randolph Scott Rides Alone

Randolph Scott as Buchanan.

The Ranown Cycle consists of six Westerns made between 1956 and 1960 that starred Randolph Scott and were directed by Budd Boetticher and written by Burt Kennedy. These films don't comprise a formal series as Randolph Scott plays a different character in each one. However, they are thematically similar with each protagonist being a loner with a high moral code who isn't afraid to use his gun. The pictures were shot on a 10-day schedule and typically ran a brisk 70-80 minutes. Some of them were produced by Ranown, a company owned by Randolph Scott and Harry Joe Brown. However, the "Ranown Cycle" is the informal designation for all six films (a seventh Scott-Boetticher effort, Westbound, is sometimes erroneously listed as part of the series).

Made in 1958, Buchanan Rides Alone stars Scott as Tom Buchanan, a cowpoke heading from Mexico to West Texas to start his own spread. His journey takes him through the border town of Agry, where he decides to spend the night. Buchanon heads over to the saloon for a meal, but is confronted there by a loudmouthed young drunkard. After a brief tussle, he pretty much ignores the youth. Yet, shortly after leaving the bar, Buchanan witnesses a young Mexican man running out of the saloon after killing the drunkard in self-defense. When the sheriff's men start to beat up the young Mexican, Buchanan intervenes to stop it. He gets pummeled for his trouble and thrown into jail.

Yes, that's Peter Gunn as Carbo.

It turns out that the dead man was the son of Judge Simon Agry (Tol Avery), a local bigwig with political aspirations. His brother Lew, the town sheriff, shows little interest in dissuading the townsfolk from pushing for a lynching. However, Simon's right-hand man, Carbo (Craig Stevens), has a better idea. Knowing that the alleged killer's father is a wealthy rancher, he suggests that Simon exhort $50,000 for the young man's release. That plan doesn't sit well with the greedy Lew (Barry Kelley), who has his own plan for getting rich.

Frankly, it's hard to describe the rambling plot to Buchanan Rides Again. In a 2008 interview, Boetticher admitted he and Burt Kennedy ad-libbed the screenplay (which is credited to Charles Lang). The result is a weak narrative filled with colorful characters and a handful of priceless scenes that are unexpectedly amusing. A perfect example is a trial in the saloon in which the "bailiff" provides these instructions to the jury: "All right. Quiet! Quiet, everybody! Your trial is about to start. Now Jim here is going to pass among you with a tray and the judge wants me to have you put all your glasses in that tray... empty! The judge don't want no more liquored-up opinion like he had in that last trial."

As Tom Buchanan, Randolph Scott often seems too amused at the goings-on, with a smile plastered on his face. However, it is refreshing that Buchanan isn't the brightest cowboy in the world. When he arrives in Agry, he unwisely starts flashing his grub stake money which attracts the sheriff's attention (and that of a third Agry brother, a wimpy hotel owner).  It's also interesting that Buchanan acts mostly as a catalyst, while the plot revolves around the relationships among the three Agry brothers.

L.Q. Jones delivers a eulogy.

The film's best performance belongs to L.Q. Jones, a supporting actor best known as playing the ranch-hand Belden in 25 episodes of The Virginian TV series. Jones later became a producer of the notable "B" movies The Brotherhood of Satan (1971) and A Boy and His Dog (1975), which he also directed. In Buchanan Rides Alone, he plays one of the sheriff's deputies who forms a bond with Buchanan because they both hail from West Texas. His eulogy for one of his comrades, who is "buried" in a tree, is the film's highlight.

Buchanan Rides Alone is an above-average Western, but it lacks the intensity and scope of the James Stewart-Anthony Mann oaters made earlier in the 1950s. However, if you've seen those pictures, then by all means check out the Scott-Boetticher collaborations. You'll certainly be entertained.

Peter Gunn: Dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum....

Craig Stevens as Peter Gunn.

When the Cafe conducted an online poll in November 2009 to determine the Top 25 TV Themes of All Time, the No. 1 spot went to Peter Gunn. It's no wonder--Henry Mancini's signature tune is not only instantly recognizable from its opening notes, but Mancini's music was integral to the success of the Peter Gunn TV series.

Debuting on NBC in 1958, the half-hour Peter Gunn series centered on a suave, cynical private eye who worked in a crime-infested, fictional city. Though he rarely looked ruffled, Gunn wasn't afraid to use his fists or revolver. In the episode "The Kill," Gunn threatens to murder a thug (Jack Weston) if a friend dies--and it's clear from the detective's steely voice that he's willing to carry through on his threat. When not investigating cases, Gunn frequented Mother's, a nightclub operated by an elderly woman called (what else?) Mother and featuring his girlfriend Edie as the in-house chanteuse. While Gunn didn't have a partner, he often received unsolicited--but timely--assistance from homicide detective Lieutenant Jacoby (Herschel Bernardi).

Stevens and Lola Albright.

Photographed in a film noir style and with voiceover narration, Peter Gunn comes across as a small-screen version of tough private eye films such as Murder, My Sweet. It also borrows heavily from the earlier series Richard Diamond, Private Eye (with Dick Powell playing the lead on radio and David Janssen on television). That's no surprise, since Diamond and Gunn were both created by writer-director Blake Edwards. Although Peter Gunn looks great, moves quickly, and features snappy dialogue (sometime penned by Edwards), it ultimately adds little to the private eye genre--except for the music.

Henry Mancini was still a relative unknown in 1959. He had played piano with Glenn Miller's Orchestra and done uncredited work on numerous films, such as The Creature from the Black Lagoon. He and Edwards had also worked together on the movies Mister Cory (1957) and This Happy Feeling (1958). When Edwards turned to Mancini to create a jazz score for Peter Gunn, magic happened. "The Peter Gunn Theme," with its driving beat and blaring horns, was an instant classic. Mancini won an Emmy and two Grammy awards. The soundtrack album, Music from Peter Gunn, was such a big hit that a follow-up, More Music from Peter Gunn, was released. The theme has been covered by artists as diverse as The Art of Noise, Herbie Hancock, the Blues Brothers, and even Jeff Beck.

While its music earned acclaim, the Peter Gunn series only cracked the Nielsen top 20 shows once, peaking at #16 for the 1958-59 season. It was probably always a niche show, lacking the mainstream appeal of more popular crime shows like 77 Sunset Strip. Its limited success may also be due to star Craig Stevens, who certainly projects "cool" but comes across as detached and, frankly, not very interesting. The sultry Lola Albright fares only slightly better as Edie, but that's because her character comes across as desperate--mooning over the emotionally-detached Pete. The most likable character is Mother, played by Hope Emerson (who died in 1960) and then Minerva Urecal.

When NBC dropped Peter Gunn after its second season, Blake Edwards took the series to ABC for a third and final season. He never gave up on the character, though. By 1967, Edwards had enough clout to mount a theatrical version called Gunn, co-written by William Peter Blatty (The Exorcist). Craig Stevens returned as Peter Gunn, but the rest of  the TV series' cast was replaced. Alas, with action heroes like James Bond dominating the box office, audiences weren't interested to see a movie about a TV private eye and the film faded quickly.

Edwards revived the character again in a 1989 made-for-television movie with Peter Strauss as the urbane private eye. It received respectable reviews, but didn't generate enough interest to warrant a revival TV series. Since then, there have been a couple of attempts to produce another Peter Gunn theatrical film, but none has materialized.

What remains is a pretty good TV series with a deliciously moody atmosphere...and that incredible Mancini theme. It's a testament to the music that you'll find people who recognize it by sound, without even knowing that it came from a private eye TV show called Peter Gunn.