Sgt. Mike Kincaid of the French Foreign Legion learns, from a Riff prisoner, that an attack will soon be made by the villainous Hussin on the Legion's outpost of Tarfa. Kincaid volunteers ... See full summary »
Fritzi Haller is a powerful casino owner in Chuckawalla, Nevada. Her daughter Paula (having quit school) returns at the same time as racketeer Eddie Bendix, who left under suspicion of murdering his wife. Paula and Eddie become involved; each for their own reasons, Fritzi, Paula's old beau Tom, and Eddie's pal Johnny try to break up the relationship. Then Eddie's past catches up with him in an unexpected way. Written by
Rod Crawford <email@example.com>
Oh god, what a petrie dish fry up! DESERT FURY is literally hysterical, like a shrill daytime soapie with cinema values. Made in 1947 in perfect glossy Technicolor to distract you from the beserkness and tawdry storyline, this is one terrific exercise in censorship busting antics that managed to fulfill it's reputation. Lizabeth Scott, like a naughty green fairy loose from a bottle of Absinthe, Wendell Corey as the housewife to creepy-teeth gangster mate John Hodiak, Burt Lancaster pretending he doesn't know and Mary Astor the battle cruiser mother each out vie each other in every scene with a regular exchange of niceties followed by face slapping or tantrum and threat. Every scene, like a roundelay of temperament. DESERT FURY is genuine queer cinema. With incest hinted, guns and car tyre screeching, sinister sunglass wearing and cactus pricks everywhere, this wacky hussy of a film makes for a terrific couch night with friends who have never seen it.
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