Riders of Destiny

At the risk of sounding like a complete anorak, I have to confess to a deep affection for John Wayne's Lone Star westerns. Every one has a mighty fine title, usually nothing much to do with the story being told. They have that addictive quality that other people find in today's soap operas. In both types, the plots are familiar and preposterous, the characters are off-the-peg, the acting is poor, the heroines are pretty, and the leading man looks good (especially on a horse in J.W.'s case).

Of all J.W.'s Lone Star films, this one is my favourite. It has all the virtues listed above, maybe not as developed as in some of the later films, but there nevertheless. I particularly enjoy the way a character is introduced in the first reel, made to disappear for most of the film, and reintroduced at the end. The heroine is delightful in jodhpurs, and the bad guy simply looks dastardly in them. Then there are the pistols that seemingly are deadly at several hundred yards. And an important prop is what I take to be a genuine stagecoach.

But this film has notable extras: "interesting" singing, some truly exciting stunt work, and a remarkably lyrical climax that I don't think Robert N Banbury ever came close to emulating again. It's so good that you'd almost believe that Ingmar Bergman had seen this film and been inspired by it as he started on Virgin Spring.

Note to students of film: it's probably a bad idea to try that suggestion on your teacher!