The Sweet Creek County War (1979)

          While the threadbare premise of The Sweet Creek County War was never to be the foundation for singular entertainment, the script’s colorful dialogue and earnest characterizations could have become the building blocks for something highly watchable. Alas, J. Frank James elected to direct his own script instead of entrusting it to more capable hands, thus ensuring the end of a screen career that began just a few years earlier with the other low-budget Western that he wrote and directed, The Legend of Earl Durand (1974). James was not without skill as a screenwriter, but he was hopelessly inept as a director, so both of his films squandered their potential. Even the title of The Sweet Creek County War indicates how badly this piece suffers for anemic execution—although the title suggests a sweeping story about frontier conflict, the picture largely depicts varmints laying siege to a single cabin occupied by the three main characters. More like The Sweet Creek County Skirmish.
          As for those characters, they are retired lawman Judd (Richard Egan), aging outlaw George (Albert Salmi), and past-her-prime prostitute Firetop Alice (Nita Talbot). After Judd rescues George from a lynch mob, the men pool their resources to buy a ranch. Later, George drunkenly marries Firetop Alice and brings her back to the ranch, upsetting the dynamic of his friendship with Judd. Meanwhile, vicious developer Lucas (Robert J. Wilke), who wants the land on which the ranch is located, unleashes gunmen to intimidate  Judd and George. Also drifting through the story, somewhat inconsequentially, is a stuttering dope named “Jitters Pippen,” played by Slim Pickens. (Presumably Dub Taylor was unavailable and Strother Martin was too expensive.)
          The basic premise of The Sweet Creek County War appeared in countless previous Western movies and TV shows, so the picture’s only moderately individualistic elements are characterizations and the dialogue—and what these elements lack in originality, they offer in sincerity. James seems committed to exploring both an unusual friendship and the conflicted emotions of people who carry deep regrets. Accordingly, had James worked with a proper director, one imagines he could have minimized the script’s formulaic components and leaned into the poignant ones. In turn, improvements to the script and the participation of a competent filmmaker might have attracted relevant performers, no offence to the blandly competent Egan, Salmi, and Talbot. After all, acting isn’t the problem here. The most amateurish aspect of The Sweet Creek County War is unquestionably James’s artless shooting style.

The Sweet Creek County War: FUNKY

Mission to Glory: A True Story (1977)

          Bad news first—this low-budget biopic about a 17th-century Jesuit missionary who served a parish spreading from northwestern Mexico to southern Arizona and Baja California assumes the moral certainty of his crusade, meaning that all the natives whom the leading character encounters are depicted as savages in desperate need of Christian salvation. Worse, Mission to Glory: A True Story suffers from atrocious storytelling by writer-director Ken Kennedy, who employs clunky blocking and inert camerawork while steering a cast heavy with Hollywood C-listers through their paces. So in addition to being culturally dubious, the film is about as cinematically lifeless as anything you’ll ever encounter. And now the good news—for all of its faults, Mission to Glory: A True Story conveys an interesting narrative, albeit one very likely exaggerated and twisted from the historical events depicted onscreen. Surely it must have taken a unique individual to endure craven political machinations, internal strife among indigenous populations, and near-constant physical danger while trying to better the lives of others. Taken as a tribute to the man whom Kennedy imagines the real Father Kino might have been, the picture feels almost noble.

          According to voiceover at the beginning of the picture, Father Kino spent more than two decades building 19 ranches and 24 missions, suggesting he was spectacularly effective at spreading the gospel while traveling across desert terrain on horseback. At various times Kino clashes with the church, hostile tribes, and violent Spanish soldiers, meeting all adversaries with humility and resolve. Does the hagiographic portrayal stretch credulity? Of course. And does the parade of familiar character actors (Michal Ansara, Aldo Ray, Cesar Romero) add to the overall sense of fakery? Sure. (Playing the leading role, in an inconsequential performance, is 1950s Hollywood stud Richard Egan, quite a bit past his prime.) Yet Mission to Glory has a few vivid-ish moments amid the hokey music, one-dimensional characterizations, and predictable plot twists. Ricardo Montalban, of all people, gives the film’s best performance, an entertaining cameo as a savvy military official. Presumably persons of faith were and are the target audience for this piece, meaning they’re the folks most likely to overlook the picture’s massive shortcomings. For others, Mission to Glory might work best as well-meaning kitsch.

Mission to Glory: A True Story: FUNKY

The Day of the Wolves (1971)

          Zippy low-budget thriller The Day of the Wolves has one of the coolest premises you’ll ever encounter in the heist genre, but the combination of a generic cast, a low budget, and threadbare storytelling keep the picture from living up to its potential. That said, there’s a lot to enjoy here for fans of ’70s crime cinema, and it’s unlikely anyone will ever attempt to remake the picture, since the existence of cellphones renders the premise obsolete. The setup goes like this. Several criminals receive letters in the mail instructing them to grow beards and report to their nearest airport for prepaid flights. Upon arrival, each criminal is collected by a driver, blindfolded, and driven two and a half hours to somewhere. Their benefactor, who identifies himself as “Number One,” assigns each crook a number, then explains the reason for secrecy. None of the criminals is to know the location of their headquarters or the names of their colleagues, because anonymity will offer protection during the federal manhunt that will inevitably follow their heist—of an entire town. Through careful strategizing, cutting phone lines, and so on, Number One plans to simultaneously plunder every business in the small community, committing multiple robberies in one brazen action. Writer, producer, and director Ferde Grofe Jr. lays out the particulars incredibly well, so on a certain level some viewers may find themselves rooting for the bad guys simply because the plan is so ingenious.
          However, the actual hero of The Day of the Wolves is small-town cop Pete Anderson (Richard Egan), who gets fired for political reasons from his job as sheriff—of the town the criminals plan to rob. You can guess where it goes from there. Despite having been stripped of his badge, Pete becomes a one-man army defending his neighbors against the criminals. Watching The Day of the Wolves, it’s frustrating to realize how little work would have been necessary to develop Grofe’s story concept into a proper screenplay. A little character development here, a little plot complication there, some improved story logic, and, bingo, The Day of the Wolves becomes a great piece for, say, Don Siegel to direct. Alas, Grofe took the DIY path, shooting his movie on the cheap in Arizona with an undistinguished cast. Egan does okay meat-and-potatoes work, and Jan Murray is fairly smooth as the cold-blooded “Number One,” but the film’s shortcomings are myriad. The picture looks cheap, the narrative is far too predictable, and the ending is silly. That said, The Day of the Wolves builds up a solid head of steam for most of its 92 minutes, so it’s no surprise to learn that Quentin Tarantino is among the admirers of this imaginative crime picture.

The Day of the Wolves: FUNKY