Watching movies again after a long gap can alternate between the rewarding and the disappointing. Any conclusions reached are, of course, entirely subjective as it's we who represent the variable here, the ones who change, and not the movies themselves. And it's a curious phenomenon, one whose mechanics I've never wholly understood beyond vague allusions to the mood one happens to be in on any given occasion. For what it's worth, I find that my feelings towards most films don't shift all that radically, and when I do perceive a change it's a positive one as often as not. Still, when I recently had another look at Byron Haskin's Silver City (1951) I experienced the opposite effect - a certain disappointment, as though the film I remembered were subtly different.
The show opens with a robbery and pitches us right into what promises to be a pacy adventure. The bright start and then the following sequence that establishes Larkin Moffatt (Edmond O'Brien) as a man fated to be dogged by a tarnished past has the potential to develop into something really meaty and satisfying. We follow Moffatt from one rejection to another as he trudges along the path of weary disillusionment trodden by legions of noir anti-heroes. This was the image I'd been carrying around in my mind - that of the pugnacious, tight-lipped guy slouching his way through a hard-boiled western in search of some form of personal redemption. But that's only part of the story, and not necessarily a fair representation of it either. Moffatt is thrown a moral lifeline of sorts when Candace Surrency (Yvonne De Carlo) and her miner father Dutch (Edgar Buchanan) persuade him to take on the role of foreman when they've made a big silver strike. There's trouble looming though in the shape of a grasping rival, Jarboe (Barry Fitzgerald), as well as the reappearance of figures from Moffatt's past who refuse to let him move on.
On paper, this all sounds quite good - and the fact it's derived from a Luke Short story attests to its pedigree - but the fact is it plods along where it needs to zip, and the tone tends to vary in a way I didn't find especially successful. Moffatt is for the most part portrayed as terse, tough and two-fisted but there are a few occasions where he's involved in some knockabout antics which didn't blend in naturally for me - there's a manufactured saloon brawl that feels altogether too broad, in my opinion. Aside from that, I'm of the opinion that there's almost too much going on in the script - jealousy, romantic subplots which crisscross feel somewhat repetitive, rivalries that spill over from relationships into business, and consequent grudges and bad feeling nursed by others. In short, there's always something going on but the crowded nature of it all actually serves to slacken the pace rather than quicken it.
On the plus side, there is a fine cast here, led by the ever watchable O'Brien, bringing that natural noir sensibility he had to his role. Yvonne De Carlo always had that earthy allure and photographs wonderfully in Technicolor. I think she generally excelled in westerns and made quite a few, her blend of sexuality and toughness finding a natural home in the genre. Laura Elliott (AKA Kasey Rogers), who had a pivotal role in Strangers on a Train around this time, is fine too as De Carlo's competition for O'Brien's attentions. Moving on to the villainous roles, I 'd argue there are too many of them for their own good. The great Barry Fitzgerald could never be less than enjoyable and he seemed to be having a high time with his malignant Irish pixie act. John Dierkes is good too as a murderous and vindictive drunkard but he's underused, while neither Richard Arlen nor Michael Moore amount to a big enough threat to provide a solid core to the drama.
I think director Byron Haskin had a great visual sense and this film looks very attractive most of the time. Westerns tends to be at their best when the locations are used to good advantage and while this film has some good outdoor work, it has to be said that the director really made the most of the interiors, and there's no doubt cameraman Ray Rennahan's beautifully understated lighting played an important part in this too. Haskin made a trio of westerns around this time with Edmond O'Brien and I'm keen to see the most elusive of them, Warpath. That title has only had a release in Spain as far as I can tell and I can't find any reviews to throw light on its quality. Even so, I may well end up taking a chance on this myself in order to satisfy my curiosity.
Silver City has been out in the US on DVD and Blu-ray via Olive for a few years now, and I think there are European versions on the market too. The movie looks reasonable, if not startling, and passes the time agreeably. However, I still feel there are the ingredients for something better in the mix, and I remain somewhat disappointed that my latest viewing had me noticing more of the flaws than the strengths. Anyway, that's just my current take and, as ever, other opinions are available.
