When one thinks of highly-empowered Western saloon women in a Republic Studio movie, I suppose the mind generally wanders to Joan Crawford in the cult favorite Johnny Guitar (dir. Nicholas Ray, 1954), but this film, from the same studio, preceded it by a year and is more interesting in different ways.

It's early 1865, and Border Town (straddling the line between North and South) has remained neutral by hiring a very tough female Mayor who's built like The Hulk and hangs anybody who expresses any opinion whatsoever on the War between the States. The famous Quantrill's Raiders, led by Brian Donlevy, are officially neutral, too, but even they tread lightly within the town limits. Into this powder keg rides sweet and innocent Joan Leslie, looking for her upstanding, charming, all-around good guy big brother Reed Hadley; she finds him a broken, bitter shell of a man -- so, as you know, a woman must've been involved. Yep, and it was lovely, spunky little Audrey Totter, kidnapped two years ago by Quantrill and now his tough, cruel, hard as a spur wife, who takes special delight at tormenting ex-boyfriend Reed. 'She's not satisfied flaunting herself in my face,' he cries to the bottom of a bottle, 'she's got to dig a grave for me to throw myself into!' One thing leads to another (you know how movies are) and the late Mr. Hadley ends up bequeathing his debt-ridden saloon to his sister, who has to become a lot less sweet and innocent to get along in the wildest town in the West.

The female part of this movie is top-notch; not only are all the town officials (including intimidating Mayor Nina Varela and sidekick Ellen Corby) female, but the saloon girls who aid Miss Leslie (including familiar faces Ann Savage and Virginia Christine) are the smartest, most competent people in the film (and the best-looking, incidentally). The cat fight between our leading ladies is a shebang and a hoot, with the added bonus that several of the men standing around watching with leers and laughter on their unkempt pusses get punched in the face as collateral damage.

Where Woman They Almost Lynched gets in trouble is with the men-folk. Donlevy is so unlikable and unpleasant (and old) that it seems a particular offense that he kidnapped and married Audrey; 'handsome hero' John Lund as an undercover Confederate officer trying to deliver key information to his countrymen has as much romantic chemistry with Joan as the North had with the South; and Jim Davis as the Raider who wants to emulate Quantrill by stealing Joan for his own bride is simply pathetic. Mayor Hulk hangs all the wrong people in Border Town, it seems.


There IS an interesting male character in the film, though, you'll be glad to know.

The real-life Jesse James was only 16 when he joined the Raiders; as portrayed here by Ben Cooper, Jesse's a boy forced into guerilla fighting after the death of his parents, but he adores Miss Leslie and longs for a normal life, a farm, and an end to hostilities. He's one of the highlights of the film. (James Brown, later to star in TV's The Adventures of Rin-Tin-Tin, is big brother Frank James.)

Director Allan Dwan is scarcely a household name, but my GOODNESS what a career he had in his 96 years on earth, more than 50 of them as an active director. A box of his films would include Robin Hood (1922, with Doug Fairbanks), Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm (1938, with Shirley Temple), The Three Musketeers (1939, with the Ritz Brothers), Brewster's Millions (1945), Sands of Iwo Jima (1949, with John Wayne), Cattle Queen of Montana (1954, with Barbara Stanwyck and Ronnie Reagan), Slightly Scarlet (1956, with Rhonda Fleming) and The River's Edge (1957, with Ray Milland and Debra Paget). In total, he's credited for more than 400 features and short subjects.

Olive Films' new Blu-ray of this title (also available on a new DVD) is a joy, a sparkling offering with a robust soundtrack that really gooses the excitement level during the many action sequences. Totter gets a couple of very nice songs to sing (one of which was co-written by Peggy Lee), helping to tide us over during the film's 90 minute running time, a LONG time for Republic to ask us to sit still for one of their Westerns that doesn't have John Wayne and Ward Bond in it. Miss Leslie does well and is beautiful in her saloon gal makeup, but despite her best efforts, it turns out to be Miss Totter's picture, and Joan would shortly retire from the screen. This wasn't a bad movie to go out on.

Clifford Weimer is a writer and film historian in Sacramento, CA. He can usually be found lurking about the dark corners of a movie theatre at inthebalcony.com.