The Civil War is just about to start. In Bleeding Kansas, the government is trying to get the Kansas Pacific Railroad built in order to link its western forts with the east. The Confederate sympathizers are less than eager to see this accomplished. The US Army decides to send out one engineer in civilian clothes to see if he can straighten things out a bit. That would be Sterling Hayden, who looks so big compared to everyone else in the movie that it's possible to imagine him filling a box car all by himself.
In charge of the now-stuck railroad in Kansas is beefy, blustering, Barton MacLane, who resents becoming subordinate to Hayden. MacLane's theatrical bellowing had a place in the rough action movies of ten years earlier. But here, the writers have burdened him with a daughter he loves. She can't act but he loves her anyway. Once in a while he chucks her under the chin and tries to smile at her, but one can almost hear the creaking of long-unused facial muscles.
The story is rambunctious, headlong. Hayden is determined to get that railroad built, although the suave villain, Reed Hadley of the sonorous baritone, does everything possible to stop him, including requisitioning some artillery from the nascent Confederate Army.
But if it's never boring, it's never original either. All the men dress alike: dark cowboy hats, checkered shirts, unbuttoned vests, black boots, and low-slung holsters. I don't know why all the men in these routine Westerns have to wear vests but they do. I counted 246 cowboys and 213 of them were wearing unbuttoned vests. That's 86.58536 percent of the men, all wearing unbuttoned vests. They wear neckerchiefs too, and gloves.
Towards the end there is a terrific fist fight between hero Hayden and villain Hadley, and each fist lands smack on each jaw with a loud thud.
Well, does the railroad finally get built, you ask? And well you might. No. The railroad does not get built. As a result, the western forts are severed from the battles in the east, the Confederate States of America win the war, and we are all reduced to eating hoppin' john and hush puppies.
In charge of the now-stuck railroad in Kansas is beefy, blustering, Barton MacLane, who resents becoming subordinate to Hayden. MacLane's theatrical bellowing had a place in the rough action movies of ten years earlier. But here, the writers have burdened him with a daughter he loves. She can't act but he loves her anyway. Once in a while he chucks her under the chin and tries to smile at her, but one can almost hear the creaking of long-unused facial muscles.
The story is rambunctious, headlong. Hayden is determined to get that railroad built, although the suave villain, Reed Hadley of the sonorous baritone, does everything possible to stop him, including requisitioning some artillery from the nascent Confederate Army.
But if it's never boring, it's never original either. All the men dress alike: dark cowboy hats, checkered shirts, unbuttoned vests, black boots, and low-slung holsters. I don't know why all the men in these routine Westerns have to wear vests but they do. I counted 246 cowboys and 213 of them were wearing unbuttoned vests. That's 86.58536 percent of the men, all wearing unbuttoned vests. They wear neckerchiefs too, and gloves.
Towards the end there is a terrific fist fight between hero Hayden and villain Hadley, and each fist lands smack on each jaw with a loud thud.
Well, does the railroad finally get built, you ask? And well you might. No. The railroad does not get built. As a result, the western forts are severed from the battles in the east, the Confederate States of America win the war, and we are all reduced to eating hoppin' john and hush puppies.