The Three Mesquiteers, No. 13 - Call of the Mesquiteers (1938)

These ancient public domain franchises have been largely discarded, and it is understandable. Outside of niche enthusiasts and crazy completists like myself, there’s no market for these things, not even enough to justify whatever scant public domain website bandwidth they’d need. As it is, there are plenty of Three Mesquiteer movies which are unavailable (in fact, the vast percentage of the series). Let us consider the two I’ve been forced to pass over…

Wild Horse Rodeo (1937) – The Mesquiteers face off against some evil horse-owning rodeo racketeer: Colonel Nye, the rodeo guy. Their conflict concerns an unrideable horse named Cyclone. There is no more plot summary given, probably because these Mesquiteer plots are never any more complex.

The Purple Vigilantes (1938) – The good people of whatever town the Mesquiteers live in do the noble, good and heroic thing, and form a lawless vigilante to run out outlaw vigilantes. Never mind the hooded robes and general sense of white entitlement, the series seems in favor of such cross-burnin’ shenanigans. But yet another set of evil vigilantes rises up to imitate the good vigilantes, mostly so the filmmakers can have their cake and eat it too: Paint vigilantism as a virtue, in pure Death Wish mode, even while the Mesquiteers can battle vigilantes. Honestly, what is with this series and siding with absolutely abhorrent political concepts? (See Riders of the Whistling Skull, Heart of the Rockies…Rather, don’t see ‘em.)

And now, without further ado (or is it adieu?), we come to Call of the Mesquiteers, which I did see (or shall).

[Time spent watching Call of the Mesquiteers, barely believing what I see…]

…Well?

…How was it?

…

That was horrible!

Thirteen entries in (and nine of ‘em seen), I can confidently declare now that The Three Mesquiteers’ formula isn’t working. (Indeed, any franchise that can churn out 8 feature length films per year must rely on a formula.) Compare the Mesquiteers to Charlie Chan. While I grew most hatefully resentful towards the later entries, its formula worked. Why? It was a narrative formula. New elements could be added, changing the flavor, resulting in playful variations on a central notion throughout the series’ history.

The Three Mesquiteers is not a narrative formula; it is a filming formula. That is, they had a set-in-stone production schedule, with the following things always appearing: Plenty of footage of horse riding, shooting, shooting while horse riding, and fistfights. And always in the same setting, ridding whatever momentary excitement these sequences might have. What this doesn’t determine is story. And while the scripts do occasionally utilize classic western tales, they are mostly slipshod, scattershot and fundamentally random.

Call of the Mesquiteers (or simply Call the Mesquiteers, in the onscreen title greatly wanting for an “of”) is at the height of Mesquiteer randomness. There is a central premise, though the story at all times feels as though it’s the improvised ramblings of the producer’s sugar-happy youth – this problem seeps into unrelated elements of the film, such as the editing and performances.

Added to that, they can’t even keep the setting consistent between entries. I mean, usually these Three Mesquiteer movies take place in the Old West – being westerns and all. This one, though, takes place in 1938, for as much as I can tell, full of trucks and motorcycles and ticker tape telegrams. At least, most of the movie is this way; at times, they still seem to think it takes place in the 19th century. It’s remarkably difficult to take seriously, or even enjoy, with all this.

It’s becoming increasingly clear this series was made with kids in mind, and that the filmmakers didn’t even respect kids all that much. The issues with logic, tone and comprehensibility are part of that. The portrayal of children, in the omnipresence of Sammy McKim playing yet a different young boy named Tim, is equally contemptible. So is how Call [of] the Mesquiteers handles dogs. But we’ll get to that…

Things start out with a daring train robbery. Far be it from me to suggest a more efficient means of robbing the caboose, but…I will anyway. Why not simply unhook it, rather than systematically hurl bales full of ultra-precious raw silk (!) out the moving boxcar? This necessitates a convoy of trucks parked along choice turnouts near the railroad. It also necessitates the murder of a brakeman, and act that is equal parts cold-blooded and shortsighted.

Even once all our baddies are on the Silk Road, moving out in their trucks, they cannot help but to bracingly stupid things. That is, the rear truck crashes, purely because they hired a guy to drive who cannot drive! (I fear my Mesquiteer commentaries as a whole shall mostly consist of outthinking the villains.) So one third of the silk-thieving dastards are ditched in a pig hole, forced to make a proverbial silk purse out of this sow’s ear.


Enter the Three Mesquiteers, themselves partaking in the truck-based rodeo circuit. (I’m no longer listing out the same cast as always; just check previous write-ups.) The murder-happy baddies flag them down, for the use of their truck. Had they simply been three more brakemen, or the upcoming police officers, our villains would’ve simply shot ‘em dead due to moronic viciousness. But they’re the stars, and thus simply taken hostage. The raw silk is loaded up in the rear with the horses, the Mesquiteers’ truck disguised to not appear suspicious.

Little good it does, for those upcoming police officers have come up, and are actively chasing down the Mesquiteers’ truck (we’re led to believe, if we’re at all logical beings, this would’ve happened, bad guys or no). Rather than attempt the clever disguise ruse they’ve just now devised, the baddies start an immediate shootout with the cops! Nitwits! All this in the context of a chase sequence, Mesquiteers ahead in their truck, cops on their motorcycles. And for absolutely no reason (even by Mesquiteer standards), a duo of hillbilly jalopies joins in, firing aimlessly at both the cops and robbers for the sheer hell of it. “What the f*#% is going on?!” I actually uttered at this moment.


The chase only ends once the cops have shot the three villains dead. Way to get out of your own scrape, Mesquiteers! Ah, but all this was just the lengthy setup. Now the Mesquiteers are wanted men! They affect their escape from the law, as the cops are distracted by the posse of rednecks (ah, so that’s why this non sequitur exists). Forced into a run from justice, the Mesquiteers debate clearing their names by tracking down and arresting the real gang (that is, the other six of ‘em who didn’t get shot through the skulls).

Doings remain somewhat sane for a while, progressing as you’d expect. The Mesquiteers stop off at a gas station (for gas). Several good citizen stuntmen recognize them as the supposed Silken Bandits, which is the chance for a fistfight in a garage. You gotta have one of these per entry! The Mesquiteers continue their flawless fisticuffs record, and race back to the truck.


There’s no plot here, which means we get another action sequence straightaway. Ah, movies fundamentally never change. (One thing I love about watching old movies is they prove Sturgeon’s Law for an era most people sum up as nothing but classics.) Now we’re in a familiar desert, as the truck even passes by Kirk’s Rock (you know, where Shatner fought the Gorn)! After the sequence progresses for a while…the Mesquiteers are in the clear. No reason given. They’ve simply evaded their pursuers. Really, no action beats in this franchise are ever comprehensibly resolved.

Here’s where the director (actually named Johnny English, meaning his IMDb page actually links to this) runs out of water-treading 30s-style action sequences, and must demur to plot. Here’s also where Call [of] the Mesquiteers falls apart completely. The Mesquiteers, now on horseback (their truck having been…whatever), observe a sign announcing a nearby town: Cosmopolis. Wow! This is seriously one cool generic town name! If I ever invent a superhero, I’m basing him in Cosmopolis!

Anyway, Stony has a similar reaction, wanting to immediately go to this place, screw whatever the movie’s been about up ‘til now. Basically, his reasoning is that Cosmopolis might have females in it – “Horny” being Stony’s one character trait, which is still one more than Tucson has. (Lullaby has too many character traits, as he’s basically a backwoods, good ol’ boy version of Jame Gumb in Silence of the Lambs).

Anyway anyway, this sign leads the Mesquiteers to rambling detours almost as egregious as the one I just allowed myself. And along comes Dr. Algernon Irving (Earle Hogins), a traveling tonic salesman, with his two children. One is ostensibly of-age daughter Madge (Lynne Roberts, as decidedly underage as she was in Heart of the Rockies), whose romance with Stony is nearly as sickening as it was in that other movie. The other is son Tim, spouter of obscene 30s “gee whizisms” and a tie back to the target audience – the snotty, precocious little brothers of future WWII soldiers. Dr. Irving has been seeking a singin’ cowboy trio to help his flailing business and – Hey, guys! Over halfway through is a little too late to be introducing entire new plotlines on us.

Things now become random and unclear. Yes, again. Cosmopolis is a post-apocalyptic ghost town. Its lone resident is a hobo named Hardy (Eddie Waller), who invites the Mesquiteers and Irving’s family to his restaurant out of left field.

There, a cat is seen, and the hobo restaurateur claims it is his chef. Lullaby’s evil ventriloquist dummy tries to eat it.

Suddenly, and I mean suddenly, it’s the 19th century, apparently, and the Mesquiteers are in their regular Old West town instead of Cosmopolis. They see a “Wanted” poster (sans images). I have taken a screenshot of it, not because the poster is at all noteworthy, but simply because this is what’s up on screen for a full, generous 30 seconds. Methinks English (the director) doubts his audience’s capacity with English (the language).


Apparently, this is a description of Lullaby (see what I mean by “too many characteristics?”).

One more “suddenly” later, and the movie is populated by cartoonish western stereotypes Mel Brooks wouldn’t’ve allowed in Blazing Saddles, like something out of the “Scruffy Smith” comic strip. I don’t know what all that was about.

A posse spots the Mesquiteers, so it’s…time for a chase. Another chase? Yeesh! Now we’ve already had truck vs. motorcycle and even horse vs. truck (which I neglected to mention), now it’s simply horse vs. horse. Which we see every time. The Mesquiteers escape, by the same “run out the available footage” method we’re familiar with. “That was a close shave” quips Tucson, not understanding such comments only constitute “puns” when shaving is somehow involved.

Back in Cosmopolis circa 1938, Dr. Irving is mad about the trio’s editing-based disappearance. Now, all of a sudden (yeah, yeah, again), Tim has a pet dog we’ve never seen before. This hound (played by master thespian Flash the Wonder Dog) is now the main character.

We now follow the nameless dog (!) as it sniffs its way into hobo Hardy’s eatery. Driven by an innate sixth sense I call the “script,” the dog discovers a trap door. Tim enters and opens the door.

Down below (all of a sudden) is the silk gang’s hideout. What?! Well that was convenient. So Tim goes on down, presumably intending to murder all six ruffians singlehandedly without a weapon, when the dog, again sensing the script’s needs, slams the door shut. Hence Tim is discovered and taken hostage – by the same gang so eager to shoot unnamed characters dead.

The baddies pull out in their three trucks, despite having been reduced to two trucks back in the opening sequence. Continuity errors! And with trucks now puttering through the (sudden) desert, it’s time for…a chase! Of course! But who shall chase them? Why, the dog! Anything can chase anything! (Oy.) Further, this franchise as a whole postulates that the slower an animal or vehicle is, the better a chance it has of catching something.


What’s become of our Mesquiteers, who were at one point our heroes, a long time ago? Well, come climax, they’re literally just sitting on their butts in some bushes. The trio sees the ensuing chase, and comments on it in the driest, most monotone way possible:

“Hey, there’s a truck.”

“…There’s another truck.”

“…There’s another truck again.”

“There’s a dog chasing it.”

I don’t think this is meant to be absurdist, but whatever. And it’s that dog which seals it. The Mesquiteers themselves give chase on horseback, because that’s what you do when you see a dog chasing a truck…apparently.


Then the dog, our hero, leaps into the moving truck’s rear bed and mauls its occupant to death! Danger now taken care of, the Mesquiteers can board via horse and continue chasing the two lead trucks. Only…

They ditch their automobile so they can chase those trucks on horseback! I think they understand this franchise’s bizarre chase-based algorithm. If only one of them could’ve ridden the dog.

…Actually, we only see Stony and Tucson doing this. It seems whenever it’s time for action, Lullaby is strangely absent, perhaps since stunt work is one of Max Terhune’s failings.

Shots are fired, the trucks’ tires are hit, the trucks stop. All five remaining baddies together declare they shall go into one truck bed individually to “check on the silk.” (God this movie is stupid!) Here in the bed, Lullaby lies in wait, having made it here through some means which invalidate the space-time continuum (he was behind Stony and Tucson, who still haven’t caught up to the trucks).

So, one baddie enters. Lullaby lays him out with a combination log-to-the-shin and head-clonk. He passes out.

A second baddie enters. Lullaby lays him out with a combination log-to-the-shin and head-clonk. He passes out.

A third baddie enters. Lullaby lays him out w- Okay, you can see where this nonsense is going. How none of the five villains see the mass of unconsciousness awaiting them ahead of time is an answer for the gods to answer. And the instant Lullaby delivers his fifth tedious head-clonk, it’s “The End.” Yeah, just like that!

That leaves, well, a few unanswered questions…Like: Did the Mesquiteers ever clear themselves of silk-rustlin’? Did Dr. Irving ever see success? What of the hobo? And what sort of cosmological event is causing historical setting and the laws of physics to suspend so regularly?

I said it at the start, and I’ll say it at the end: That was horrible!


Related posts:
• No. 1 The Three Mesquiteers (1936)
• No. 3 Roarin’ Lead (1936)
• No. 4 Riders of the Whistling Skull (1937)
• No. 5 Hit the Saddle (1937)
• No. 6 Gunsmoke Ranch (1937)
• No. 7 Come On, Cowboys! (1937)
• No. 8 Range Defenders (1937)
• No. 9 Heart of the Rockies (1937)
• No. 10 The Trigger Trio (1937)
• No. 14 Outlaws of Sonora (1938)
• No. 19 Santa Fe Stampede (1938)
• Nos. 29 – 38 (1940 – 1941)
• No. 35 Prairie Pioneers (1941)
• Nos. 39 – 51 (1941 – 1943)

The Three Mesquiteers, No. 10 - The Trigger Trio (1937)

The Three Mesquiteers employed such an astounding turnaround schedule (eight whole movies in 1937 alone) that certain things are to be expected. Subservience to formula is one of those, with easily plugged stunt sequences and other time-wasting content. One unexpected consequence of this, though, is the increased chance for something going wrong in filming. After all, with a new movie expected every month and a half, you have a quota to fill, and no time to waste.

So it transpires that main Mesquiteer Robert Livingston was unable to appear in the tenth entry, The Trigger Trio, having sprained his wrist while “playing with his prop gun,” or some such. A month to recoup wouldn’t be a huge deal to most productions, but there’s an empty block in an upcoming Saturday matinee that needs to be filled! Thus, Livingston was replaced, for this one and only entry, by the latest (one-film) Mesquiteer: Republic regular and Dick Tracy portrayer Ralph Byrd as Tucson Smith’s brother, Larry Smith. I think I once worked with a guy named Larry Smith.

The absence of Livingston’s Stony is explained by Tucson (Ray “Crash” Corrigan) as a “trip off down to Mexico.” Ah, putting things in quotes makes them sound like euphemisms. It takes The Trigger Trio all of 15 seconds to bat that question away, making me think this might’ve been a script first written for Livingston, then quickly reworked to accommodate Byrd. After all, Larry possesses the same traits (generic cowboy, but with a libido) Stony always showed. Later events in the film, however, make me think otherwise.

No sooner is Larry introduced, calming down worried movie-going eight-year-olds nationwide, than trouble (plot) rears its expected head. This time it is in the form of hoof and mouth disease (DA DUM DUM!), spreading throughout the unnamed, unidentified region’s cattle. The trio (let us not forget Max Terhune’s Lullaby Joslin) learns of this from State Agricultural Service employee John Evans (Robert Warwick) at home with his family. This family includes Ann Evans (Sandra Corday’s only credit), and a lad named Mickey. It is damnably difficult to parse out whether Ann is John’s wife or sister, even with a “Gee golly goshers whillickers” boy around. Either way, Larry sets to seducing her, in that 1937 sorta way.


(Again the film’s setting grows confused, with contemporary cars intermixing with plots and technologies more at home in 1885 Hill Valley. Not the most carefully thought out franchise, this.)

In town (the same town we always see), the Mesquiteers enforce a disease quarantine, to prevent the spread of sickly cattle. Lullaby seems strangely determined to do this at all costs, as I swear he shoots a kitten at point blank range, in a moment that’ll never be mentioned again. And that bit of inexplicable “humor” over with, along comes the villain – Brent (Cornelius Keefe). How do we know he’s the villain? Basically, he wears a black hat and has a black horse. All well and good, but why is he villainous?...Er, because he’s a rancher. Never mind the Mesquiteers themselves are identified as ranchers, non-regular ranchers have always been hissable ne’erdowells in this franchise’s universe. Oh, and if you were an actor named Cornelius in 1930s Hollywood, you could only play villains. (Brent’s henchman, meanwhile, is simply credited in the film as “Henchman.” Nice!)

The problem with being a villain in this context is the setup: hoof and mouth disease. How does one act illegitimately evil in such confines? Well, Brent could cross quarantine boundaries in his jalopy, snickering and twirling his old timey bad guy ‘stache (oh yeah!). All this serves no purpose, except who’s a villain to randomly obey a law?


So Tucson chases him down, as the film takes a lengthy pause for a chase sequence. Horse runs down car. I’ll repeat that – Horse runs down car. That whole idea of “horsepower” most cars are advertized under…this one wasn’t.

Back at the town’s quarantine, the overall running time must’ve been a few minutes short. There’s always one easy way to fix anything deficient: monkeys! In a moment that qualifies as random even for this film, a chimpanzee terrorizes a literal flea circus all while a matronly Mrs. Astor dowager type frets. Lucky for her Lullaby wasn’t feeling too trigger happy at the time.

(I almost forgot! Around here Tucson races Brent as part of a bet, for the same nebulously stated reasons as in 2 Fast 2 Furious. Basically, it’s an excuse for an action sequence. And Lullaby, ever the pillar of honesty that he is, cheats on Tucson’s behalf, rendering a shortcut only he can use. Otherwise, the bad guy would’ve won through fair play. Our heroes, ladies and gentlemen.)

It’s only now that the Mesquiteers learn the dire truth, which has so far eluded them: they, our franchise heroes, are not above the law (see Heart of the Rockies). Thus their horses shall have to be quarantined with the other beasties, despite Tucson’s impassioned pleas to the fact that he has top billing. What little this scene accomplishes is an introduction to Buck…Ah, Buck. Hedging their bets in case Byrd wasn’t enough of a Livingston substitute, director William Witney has also thrown in a dog – Buck. This languid St. Bernard is the tenth billed actor, and he plays himself. Really, the only 30s actors who could go solely as “Buck” are animals, or pretentious Frenchman cowboys. I’m glad it was the former. I’m also glad Buck is the Mesquiteers mascot for today, taking the place of Lullaby’s hideous puppet.


Okay, back to Brent. He’s been informed by John, the cow doctor, that a few of his cattle have the disease, and will have to be shot. Rather, Brent shoots John. Dead. Villain, remember? Because apparently it’s less trouble to instigate a murder investigation (and allow the rest of your stock to also get sick and die) than it is to simply lose a couple of cows in the first place. What were a few cows worth in the time between 1860 and 1937 (that’s when The Trigger Trio takes place)? Surely not more than a man’s life. (With John dead, and Ann potentially widowed depending on whom she is, Larry’s romancing takes on a whole new dimension.)

Really, Brent’s villainy makes no sense. Of course, when a man has his back turned to you, as a baddie, you just have to murder him! Your Dark Lord commands it!

Right away, I could tell you the outcome of this choice. Hoof and mouth disease spreads unchecked throughout the state, destroying the value of Brent’s own herd, as well as all the other ranchers’. Despite all this, Brent is dead set to sell his cows. Otherwise, he’d be down 100 now, instead of the 2 had he simply obeyed John’s medical advice and not slaughtered the man. But Brent doesn’t have the movie’s monopoly on poor character motivation. He turns to Larry, our one-shot hero, and essentially confesses such. “I am about to drive 100 heads of diseased cattle across state lines to sell to the characters of an Upton Sinclair novel. I want you to help me and Henchman.” Why Brent asks Larry in the first place, I cannot say. Why Larry agrees without a second’s remorse, I cannot say either. Perhaps because the finale demands it.


So Larry sets out on this cattle drive of evil. Lullaby, meanwhile, has also figured out Brent’s devious plot, as Brent is wont to cackle loudly in isolation about his nefarious schemes, all well within earshot of other people’s homes. Honestly, the amount of logical missteps this man makes is mind boggling. And it’s never played for comedy!

Someone else knows about Brent’s doings: Buck! Actually, he knows more than Lullaby does. So it’s Buck who leads Lullaby out to greet the herd, which just happen to be in that same swath of wilderness we always see. Why’d he need a dog to show him this?

When Brent sees Lullaby approaching, he suggests to Larry that they murder him (and his little dog too). What the living hell for? Larry talks Brent out of it entirely in logical terms (morality never enters into it), then rides off all of 10 feet to meet with Lullaby. Thus temporarily makes Brent consider murdering Larry. Why’d you hire him then?!

Very confusing editing happens, and suddenly Lullaby’s gone back to town. I guess nothing much transpired between him and Larry. Then a randomly introduced posse of men arrives on horseback, firing randomly at Brent & co. Now who the hell are these people?! My first suspicion is they’re the state border guards, who have a beef with Brent’s beef. Whatever the reason, it’s a chance for Action Sequence # 4B: A ride ‘n’ shoot! Larry, that emblem of righteousness, fires back at these presumed lawmen as he, Brent and Henchman ride to the cliffs.

Henchman knows more than he’s letting on (I do love that name). He knows these are Brent’s men, hired to murder Henchman and Larry…Okay, what?! You hire another twenty men in order to silence two men who are complicit in your scheme?! Who’s gonna silence these guys?


Once again, though, Brent isn’t the only one lacking for mental clarity. Henchman, in order to save both Larry and himself, leaps to his death. Ummmm… So…let’s get clear again…Henchman leaps from a cliff, causes the sort of avalanche which is ever so common in Mesquiteers movies, and thus pins both himself and Larry under a tree. And does kill himself in the process. (Larry, as the “hero,” is thoroughly uninjured.) The lapses in logic here are so big, you could drive a hundred head of cattle through them.

Buck, the true hero, knows Larry is caught under the tree, and thus runs off to retrieve Lullaby and the gang. Yup, it’s a “Lassie” scenario! To provide proof, Buck takes Larry’s neckerchief, which I incorrectly thought of as a handkerchief. Run, Buck, run!


Buck finally comes across Tucson, who’s been absent for 60% of this entry so he could round up the sheriff’s men. Seeing the dog, Tucson actually says “What is it, Buck? What is it, boy?” Sadly, he doesn’t follow it up with “Did Timmy fall down a well?”

Run, Buck, run! Actually, it’s the same “dog runs” shot from before, mirrored. So, they’re now running back to save Timmy – er, Larry. Buck gets out ahead of the horses (in this movie, dogs are faster than horses are faster than cars…rrrrright). Just then, a non sequitur frontiersman takes random potshots at Buck, actually shooting the hound’s torso. Who was this guy? I mean, this wasn’t one of Brent’s latest goons, this was just a guy standing in the wasteland waiting for a dog to shoot. Oh…kay…then. It makes no difference either way, as Buck still shows them to Larry. He even survives the movie unwounded, healed by the pure curative powers of Tucson’s reassuring dialogue (“He’ll be OK.”).

Larry rescued, the Three Mesquiteers lead their posse on a shootout with Brent’s men. All in Brent’s party die, as do about five men on Tucson’s side. All this to prevent 100 cows from crossing state lines. Were inter-state communications so awful back then that you couldn’t, er, call a consumer advocates line or something?! Really, by my count, twenty-six men have died violently to prevent the spread of a non-fatal (to humans) disease.

Also, they kill Brent. He should’ve just listened to John.

Speaking of…The coda assures us that the state shall compensate all the ranchers who lost cattle in this hoof and mouth plague. Meaning…had Brent gone the noble route, and simply not murdered in cold blood, he’d’ve been down nothing for his trouble. As opposed to…dying.

A film of such randomness and illogic needs to go out on a truly outstanding bit of left-fielded foolishness. So…Lullaby pretends to be a dog, for no reason, scaring a Chinaman we’ve never even seen until the very final shot. Ummm…y-y-yeah.

What does it say that this counts as tossed-off, even in a franchise that was as a whole tossed-off? I don’t know, but its 8 votes on IMDb (and zero reviews) don’t do it justice. How’s something this contrived even get made? I swear, I’ve probably thought more about The Trigger Trio than any other human in history, and that’s counting its own stars. I mean, two and a half hours, man! (That includes watching it.) But it clearly doesn’t matter, because fans of The Three Mesquiteers would accept no substitutes. They were just biding the endless month and a half before Livingston’s return, knowing this would be inconsequential. So be it.


Related posts:
• No. 1 The Three Mesquiteers (1936)
• No. 3 Roarin’ Lead (1936)
• No. 4 Riders of the Whistling Skull (1937)
• No. 5 Hit the Saddle (1937)
• No. 6 Gunsmoke Ranch (1937)
• No. 7 Come On, Cowboys! (1937)
• No. 8 Range Defenders (1937)
• No. 9 Heart of the Rockies (1937)
• No. 13 Call of the Mesquiteers (1938)
• No. 14 Outlaws of Sonora (1938)
• No. 19 Santa Fe Stampede (1938)
• Nos. 29 – 38 (1940 – 1941)
• No. 35 Prairie Pioneers (1941)
• Nos. 39 – 51 (1941 – 1943)

The New Hair Conundrum - The Guest Blogger Series

My transition to NY is moving along wonderfully and things are starting to come into place, and in the meantime I am having some lovely blogger friends help me with some posts! Today enjoy Jessica from Fashion Limbo as she debates on gettin her heer did!

New season? new hair? This is the question lodging in my brain as soon as September arrives. By the end of said month I am desperately looking for an excuse to book my appointment at the salon, bugging friends with celebrity pictures asking “would this style suit me?”. By October I have seen my stylist, with no clue about what to ask for. I’ll just let him do whatever he fancies, changing my mind along the way, begging for more length here, less there... the results end up being, more often than not, questionable. Insert sad face here.

So, in the name of patience, and good taste, I have decided to take a step back and truly consider what I want done to my hair... and more importantly, what would really look good.

Right now I’m contemplating having a new hair colour. I should add I’m a natural brunette. The good thing about being brunette is that one can go bare-faced in terms of make-up, unlike platinum blondes. A shade of red on the lips can look positively stunning, especially if one goes for blue shades. I am lusting after a shade of pink by MAC and I know it would work great with darker locks.

However, being a brunette, I’m yawning. Going platinum blonde has always been a secret desire of mine. The sad truth is that platinum is not for the regular wallflower. As stated above, one could never, and I mean never, leave the house without any make-up.

Additionally I would have to invest in good shampoos, conditioning treatments and much more. No harsh methods such as hair-straighteners allowed and head to a trusted colourist to keep the black roots at bay... every fortnight.

And then there is Florence Welch (Florence + The Machine), parading her red locks around and looking truly amazing. Maybe it’s time to become a fake, yet stylish, redhead?

Or maybe it’s just time to settle as a brunette, love my natural hair colour for what it is, embrace all chocolate shades, and stop torturing myself lusting after other people’s heads?

... naaah! that would be too boring. So! how about jet black...?

{thanks weheartit for the photos}

Be sure to check out more from Jessica at Fashion Limbo everyday darlings!

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The Unofficial Official Blogspot Sports Swami Picks, Vol. 1

Alright, alright, I know you’ve missed me, I know you have. The Unofficial Official Myspace Sports Swami disappeared for a very very (very) long time. But, I am back, and hopefully will be here to stay. I have converted to become the Unofficial Official Blogspots Sports Swami. What I shall do every week is focus on a sports team, then put down my picks for Sundays (and Monday’s) football games. If anyone wants to go against me, be my guest. Without further interruption, the Team of the Week to Focus on:

Team of the Week: A Bunch of Them.


Year of the Overhype. This is what the NFL might be becoming. With MLB, it’s the Year of the Pitcher. With the NBA, it’s going to be the Year of the Superstar-Filled Demonic Teams. With the NHL, it’s the…who cares? But anyways, within the first couple weeks in the NFL, we are seeing all these teams with a decent amount of hype dying down, and some looking like they will not recover. Check this out: The Minnesota Vikings, Dallas Cowboys, San Francisco 49ers are all 0-2. Check out who is leading their divisions: Bears, Buccaneers, Texans, Big Ben-less Steelers, and even the Chiefs.

Look who else isn’t looking that great: The New York Jets, New England Patriots, San Diego Chargers. Now I am mildly exaggerating this a bit because it’s only Week 3. But, the season has definitely taken a much different shape than originally anticipated. All these teams with preseason-heavy hype are not matching it at all, with only the Green Bay Packers and the Houston Texans being the lone exceptions. The Dallas Cowboys are a huge mess, the 49ers fails to capitalize on the nice endrun they had last season, the Vikings are showing that their reliance on Brett Farve is becoming a mistake. See the importance of Training Camp and the preseason? Look at Revis, he is out, and look at Farve, still not understanding his team.

Week 3 is a huge week for the NFL (and all your crazy Fantasy Football folks) because it will definitely prove if we are all panicking too early, or we are going to see a very different NFL season—much like what has gone on with MLB. In my opinion, I see the three 0-2 teams continue to struggle throughout the first half of the season----especially the Dallas Cowboys. But I do see the Pats and Colts turning things around.


Okay, here are my picks:
[] = My pick for who will win



[Tennessee] at NY Giants
Bottom Line: I am not an Eli Manning fan. Not at all. I have no faith in these Giants this year. As for the Titans, well, if they can improve their coaching decisions, then we can see a strong playoff hopeful team.

Pittsburgh at [Tampa Bay]
Bottom Line: Tampa at home against a Big Ben-less Steelers. While most would pick the Steelers, I am going to ring the Upset Alert and pick the Bucs.

[Cincinnati] at Carolina
Bottom Line: Bengals don’t have a really tough matchup until they take on the Dolphins in Halloween time. This is their chance to put some major wins on the board in a competitive division.

Cleveland at [Baltimore ]
Bottom Line: Quoting Bill Simmons, “God hates Cleveland.” With another different quarterback in the realm taking on the Ravens, its going to look ugly.

Dallas at [Houston]
Bottom Line: The Cowboys really, really need a win here if they have any chance at redeeming themselves in Texas and gaining any respect they are clearly losing early this year.

San Francisco at [Kansas City]
Bottom Line: Road team has little momentum? Check. New stadium? Check. Awesome fanbase? Check. 2-0 start and on top of the division leading to overwhelming momentum that will steer them to a victory? Absolute check.

Detroit at [Minnesota]
Bottom Line: If the Vikings lose this game at home against the Lions, then we can kiss Farve’s last effort at getting a Ring goodbye.

Buffalo at [New England]
Bottom Line: Must be hard to be a Bills fan. Just saying.

Atlanta at [New Orleans]
Bottom Line: The Saints aren’t as good this year as last year, and without Reggie Bush too. However, they are devastating at home, and I don’t see an upset here.

[Washington] at St. Louis
Bottom Line: In the most dysfunctional division in all of sports, the Redskins still have a small shot of making some noise. They can start by winning here.

[Philadelphia] at Jacksonville
Bottom Line: If Michael Vick can pull a Kurt Warner and win in his later years, then the Eagles will become a very exciting team to watch. But oh what his career could have been…….

Oakland at [Arizona]
Bottom Line: The I-Don’t-Care-Game of the Week. Cardinals win, and they still have a shot at the division---but then again, they all do.

San Diego at [Seattle]
Bottom Line: Upset Alert!! Alert the presses! I see an upset here.

[Indianapolis] at Denver
Bottom Line: Needs more Tebow.

NY Jets at [Miami]
Bottom Line: Game of the Week. Taylor returning to Miami in a Jets uniform. Dolphins starting their first home game with a 2-0 record. And of course, the dysfunctional Jets with a target on their backs as they try to prove that last year was no fluke. However, I see Miami knocking them out and starting the season strongly.

So far:
Season Picks:
Correct-----Wrong
21-11


Go Rays!!!!!!!!

Metroid: Other M: The Personality Assassination (Spoilers Ahead)

There has been a heavy controversy amongst the gaming world about a video game that just came out. Nintendo has finally attempted to get with the times by providing a video game experience that mixes gameplay with high-detailed cinematic cut scenes and a storyline full of raw emotion and character building. Metroid: Other M was an innovative collaboration between Nintendo and Team Ninja as they attempted to infuse personality and depth to the highly-acclaimed Metroid saga. Unfortunately though, somewhere along the lines they forgot about Samus’ history and have provided her with one of the most contradictory and left-field changes in the history of gaming. Metroid: Other M was met with the most mixed reviews in the Metroid franchise since Metroid Fusion, and a good portion of it has to do with the storyline.

Now, I will explain why I am going to personally accept Other M as a major fluke, and the sooner the gaming world sees this, the sooner we can move away from this. It has very little to do with the massive change in pace, tone, and gameplay style—but it has to do with the total negligence of who the character is and what she represents. Can you imagine what would happen if Metal Gear Solid fans saw a Metal Gear Solid which saw Ocelot in a love triangle story? It would receive the similar shock that some Nintendo fans are experiencing as they watch a usually-tough Samus have a total shift in personality—a personality that gamers on a whole have developed for our heroine since her first appearance.

“I'm also not complaining about this particular character or her strengths or weaknesses. add depth, character, emotion, what have you, i'm fine with that. As a stand alone story, Other M is OK. what [IGN Blogger] (and others) are upset about, is this is a drastic change in the existing Samus character and it seems to come out of nowhere. Some have made a good point, that we didn't really know what Samus was thinking or feeling in other adventures. fair enough. I think if Other M happened way, way sooner in the history of the character, we would accept it more readily. This is like a coming of age story. NOT a returning to fight the same enemies she's beaten time and time again to NOW feel afraid of them? that just doesn't fit. sorry.”

~~IGN User: dponiel

Samus started out as a bad-arse galactic bounty hunter with a mysterious past and with a very straightforward goal, take care of the Metroids. The fact that she was a woman was one of the biggest surprises in gaming history, if not the all-time biggest. As the franchise evolved to become the powerhouse quality grouping of games it is today, only few snippets of personality was revealed. She was a tough bounty hunter that allowed her actions to do all the talking. She never interacts much with anybody else, even when there were many more characters to talk to in Metroid Prime 3. In Metroid Fusion, she mentions how she hates taking orders, further supplementing her as a loner heroine that is much happier keeping to herself.

Despite her bad-assness, she does have some heart, as she spared the last, final Metroid in the end of Metroid II: Return of Samus, because the Metroid was a baby and was treating Samus as her mom. None of her games up to this point focused on character development, but did drop off some hints here and there as to who she was. The personality was never fleshed out, but the little snippets and small little moments made gamers aware that she wasn’t just a heartless character to control and maneuver around dangerous terrain.

“For what it’s worth, Other M is the penultimate game in the series (current) chronology. Set after Super Metroid, but before Metroid Fusion, Other M is a good way into Samus’ career as a bounty hunter. She’s got a reputation by this point, having destroyed an entire planet and destroying the whole Metroid race, the psychic brain that governed them, and the space dinosaur thing that killed her parents. That’s a lot of violence and a lot of going beyond the call of duty. It’d odd, then, that Samus is such a fragile and mewling coward in Other M.” ~~Review in Resolution Magazine

So when Metroid: Other M was revealed, I was excited because it looked like they were giving Samus a tougher, rougher edge. The trailers showed intense action, crazy-nice-looking cutscenes, and just a faster, more furious Samus running around. But as the release date loomed and the reviews were arriving, certain fears started creeping up. The game was looking like it was receiving more and more Japanese influence, when the Metroid franchise is strictly a West Coast style of product. I was afraid they were going to tweak Samus’ personality a bit too much.

“Time-wise, Other M is tucked in between fan-favorite Super Metroid and the critically beloved Metroid Fusion -- the first game that showed a hint of Samus's personal history and the introduction of Adam Malkovich, a core character in its newest iteration. This makes Other M the second-to-last game sequentially, as the bulk of Metroid games have wedged themselves further and further into the early years of Samus Aran’s story. Ironically, Other M feels like a prequel to the franchise while attempting to be the culmination of everything Metroid has been and become…… In short, you're asked to forget that Samus has spent the last 10-15 years on solitary missions ridding the galaxy of Space Pirates, saving the universe and surviving on her own as a bounty hunter. Instead, Other M expects you to accept her as a submissive, child-like and self-doubting little girl that cannot possibly wield the amount of power she possesses unless directed to by a man…..”
~~~G4TV review


Metroid: Other M is chronologically between Super Metroid and the latest installment, Metroid Fusion. So why on earth does she still have so many issues? Why on earth is she taking orders from someone else, even though it means stupidly running around extremely hot conditions but not turning on your suit? Why on earth are there cutscenes of a crying girl when she sees Ridley (again…)? And why, oh why, has our beloved Samus become watered-down to resemble a lost puppy on certain scenes? It would make total sense if the game chronologically was in the very beginning of her quest to make outer space a safer place; but after all that she has already been through, there’s no way she would still behave like the way she behaves in Other M. Her relationship with Adam was very laughable and quite inconsistent--especially with her character on the previous games.

I will repeat this again, WHY OH WHY does she freeze when she sees Ridley for like the sixth darn time!!!??

“Until Other M, Samus has existed as a silent protagonist with only the personality that we have bestowed upon her in our own imaginations. Regardless of whether or not the interpretation in Other M can be reconciled with your own perception of her, there is a moment later in the game that cannot be justified…ever. Confronted by her longstanding nemesis, Ridley, she is spliced into flashes of a little girl, crying and afraid, despite the fact she has already defeated Ridley at least FOUR times already, once when he was a powerful robot. Terrible.”
~~~G4TV review

“The entire game is one, long, character assassination of Samus Aran…. Samus may be acting in character as a whiny, cowardly, submissive, spineless woman, but if she is then she is a terrible character. If this had been a prequel to the very first Metroid, back when she was still finding her feet, then a great deal of my hatred would have been invalid, but its not. Other M takes place towards the end of Samus’ career, she’s seen and killed monsters so hideous that they’d give Lovecraft a run for his money, but one word from her former CO and she regresses to a child. I can pinpoint the moment in the game that made me give up. It was the Ridley fight. Samus must have killed Ridley about 5 times by now, and yet this is the only game where she is so frightened by his reappearance that she visibly freezes. She totally shuts down, and this prolonged hesitation leads to the apparent death of one of her old friends. This is a creature she has defeated countless times, seen rise from the dead just as many, and yet this time it scares her stiff. No. I’m not having that.” ~~~Resolution magazine review

Nintendo, I applaud you for trying to give personalities to each of your major heroes. But, you must do the research first, you cannot just nullify and neglect all the personality aspects that had been revealed before. Samus up to the point of Other M was a cold-blooded bounty hunter that clearly was able to overcome her past and is clearly able to overcome any obstacle that comes her way---by herself. She doesn’t need Adam, she doesn’t need anybody up to this point.

If you want to reveal backstory, that’s fine, but you can’t tell me that her past still hinders her abilities and skills up to this point—when she has already killed hundreds of Metroids and space pirates, when she took down the Mother Brain (twice), took out Ridley (thrice), and the infamous Omega Metroid (that difficult monster from Metroid Prime). It was a rather big slap in the face to those that have followed Samus for al these years.

“This could have been an opportunity to show her strength to a greater degree, the strength it takes to overcome fear and not succumb to it, perhaps by having Adam see through her disguise. As her mentor and her father figure, it stands to reason he knows her better than anyone else, perhaps there could have been scenes where he pulls her to one side and reveals this, talks about how he knows she’s hurting from what she’s done, asks her about how she fights the fear she must feel. She’s destroyed an entire planet, erased an entire species, these are themes that could have been handled so well, making her vulnerable and conflicted behind her armour of outward strength. It could have finally told us more about how Samus thinks. It could have been a character study. But no. What we get is a whining bitch prostrating herself before an older man with no real respect for her own achievements. Given what they had to work with, the myriad of different ways they could have taken the story, the fact that this is where they went makes me furious”
~~~Resolution Magazine review

Bottom Line: The gameplay looks like fun, but I will find it extremely hard to get past just what they did to Samus to truly enjoy this. She was much more believable and much more likable as a one-dimensional mystery, than the fleshed-out-yet-rather-infuriating incarnation that she is in this game. I am not sure why they decided to turn the franchise in this direction, what was wrong with her being a quiet assassin? I understand that sometimes change is indeed necessary, but to me Samas Aran is a female, space version of Link---a heroic figure that speaks with actions rather than words. They could have easily fleshed-out her character, but retain her appearance as a quiet, heroic, cold-blooded, brave bounty hunter that can destroy planets by herself.

But no, we get your typical female that struggles to get over her past, and despite seeing all this mayhem before, struggles to disobey orders in order to protect her own stinkin’ life. Nintendo, I like your efforts, but next time hire people that truly know, understand, and love the franchise that you have built. You can change the gameplay, but don’t change the traits. Super Mario has been transformed gameplay-wise time and time again, yet Mario never (and hopefully never will) change his character: a lovable plumber looking to save his beloved princess from a fiend that’s nothing but pure evil.Samus easily could have fit to resemble a character in a modern-day Final Fantasy game. We don't need that. They should not try to mass appeal Samus to the Japanese audience.



Samus is a bad-ass bounty hunter. Let’s please keep it that way. In the meantime, I will do to Metroid: Other M what Zelda fans do to the games Link: The Faces of Evil, Zelda: The Wand of Gamelon, and Zelda's Adventure………..pretend like they never happened.

The Three Mesquiteers, No. 9 - Heart of the Rockies (1937)

For the first few decades of the 20th century, the U.S. National Parks Service aimed to create a bucolic utopia in their National Parks, centered on a strangely anthropomorphized notion of wildlife and nature. One damning misassumption concerned the purpose of predators. To humans, who benefited from species considered either useful or beautiful, there was no good to be gotten from predatory creatures. As a result, cougars, wolves and coyotes (on top of many others) fell under the auspices of “predator control” – basically, the legalized federal genocide of whole wild animal populations by any means necessary. Trapping, poisoning, all was permitted.

These policies catered to ranchers, who saw nature as a resource to be used up and discarded, and to the commercial men of the Parks, who favored nature tourism based on similar principles. Opposed to this wanton slaughter were the nature societies, who saw this as an unnatural regulation of a natural system not in need of regulation. The Parks Service’s biologists were themselves eternally opposed to predator control on scientific grounds, arguing the long-term damage such policies could pose to the very ecosystems the killers were purporting to preserve.

(One finds a similar progression of ideas with the Forest Service and its one-time policy of 100% fire suppression. Speaking as a former firefighter and naturalist, I have seen this tactic yield a far more complex, dangerous and explosive wildfire situation today. Fire, like predators, was once seen as an absolute evil to nature – and it has now been reconceived as a natural part of it.)

By 1931, policy change in the Parks Service sought to curb predator slaughter, or at least curtail it. Such perceived liberalism was mighty controversial throughout the 30s. Ranchers as well as sportsmen favored predator reduction so they could more adequately take advantage of the animals predators preyed upon. Similar to certain contemporary arguments concerning global warming, policy makers had financial reasons to dismiss evidence pointing to the usefulness of, say, coyotes. These were influential people, and had ways of popularizing their opinions.

Narrative movies as a medium are a powerful propaganda tool, as they carry an emotive component which overrides mere reasoned argument. While most films argue for inarguable goods such as opposing murder, others take a stand on less cut-and-dry issues. Enter The Three Mesquiteers, taking a side on the predator control issue…the anti-predator side. Heart of the Rockies uses the formulaic rigors of the B-western to paint as heroic those who would hunt predators on National Park land.


What makes a hero? Is it moral goodness? Is it respect for the law? Is it an abhorrence of violence? Hell no! It’s simply who has the whitest hat.

The Three Mesquiteers (Robert Livingston, Ray Corrigan and Max Terhune as Stony Brooke, Tucson Smith and Lullaby Joslin) are now ranchers in the high country of Colorado, continuity be damned. For instantly indefensible reasons, they believe a mere one of their cattle herd has been killed by a bear (or “kil’t by a bar,” as it were), and therefore wish, in their heroic temperament, to slaughter every last bear in the state. (This profoundly misinterprets any predator policies, as bears were never the hated species.) You gotta love how The Three Mesquiteers can occasionally rally against the atrocious evils of the West: first Native Americans, and now the animals. These movies vilify nature! The Mesquiteers set out immediately upon a “bar hunt,” trespassing directly into the Blackstone Fictional National Park. And never mind Blackstone’s status as a “no hunting” animal preserve, it don’t matter to the Mesquiteers – their hats are white.

Our heroes take frequent potshots at the local “bars” when along ride some park rangers. (Boo! Hiss!) The Mesquiteers know they’re breaking the law (heroes) for their own petty commercial purposes, and actually consider starting a shootout with the rangers on account of our hats are white. Yeesh! But for now, the Mesquiteers simply have a fine.

Not ones to let law or scientific facts stand in their righteous way, the Mesquiteers decide to outsource their bear genocide. This shall now become the job of a local clan of toothless poacher hicks, the Dawsons. The Mesquiteers shall pay a ransom for every bear slaughtered, the more viciously, the better.

Now, the Dawsons are the villains. Why? Their hats are black. It’s surely not because of their actions. I mean, they kill off “bars” left and right, as the Mesquiteers themselves wish they could do. No, they’re “villains” because of their scheme: They sell the Mesquiteers “bar” pelt, make a profit, then let the Mesquiteers take the rap for the killings. Ah, so it’s ethics. Granted, as a strict Dantean, betraying their benefactors like this is a Ninth Circle offense. Still, if we’re meant to side with the Mesquiteers (our heroes), then “bar killin’” cannot on its own be meant as a sin. (By this movie’s ethical logic, if I hire an assassin, it’s his fault I paid him to kill somebody.)


There’s one other facet betraying the Dawsons as villains: they like incest. Really, it’s like the 30s equivalent of Deliverance, or the inbred mutants from Wrong Turn. It’s the kind of family where everyone calls everyone else “Ma” and “Pa” simply because it’s the literal truth. As an example I’m shocked Hays let ‘em get away with, clan head Ed (series regular J.P. McGowan) is actively planning to marry his own stepdaughter, Lorna (Lynne Roberts).* Hence the human version of the Country Bear Jamboree seen above.

*(My college roommate’s uncle married his own stepdaughter once, and became the chief pariah in all of Indiana for his trouble.) All non sequitur parantheticals guaranteed exaggeration-free.

The Mesquiteers crash the wedding because, well, this they oppose. Stony argues against Woody Allen-esque stepdaughter matrimony, on the grounds that Lorna is underage. Oh, so now you’re “OK” with the law?! Hypocrite! Oh, but it gets better. See, underage or no, Lorna is Stony’s love interest. How is – wait – I – who – what – how? Oh, right, Stony can afford bleach – a white hat forgives all pedophiliac interests. Yeesh! (Also, actress Roberts was 15 at the time, making things even more squicky.)

There’s one Dawson I haven’t mentioned yet: Davey Dawson. He’s Lorna’s younger brother (at least), and in genre terms is guaranteed of moral correctness, because of his youth. And because the elder Dawsons’ poaching is “bad” (because of their black hats), little Davey has the “correct” animal policy. His habit is to break onto Park land, snag up injured cute animals (a strangely common sight in this movie forest), and take them home to nurse. His bestiary is consistent with the species favored under “predator control.” So every day, Davey kidnaps a new badger, or skunk, or coon (racist connotations definitely intended in this film). Hey, I got a better idea: Leave the fucking animals alone!


On Davey’s latest animal quest, he happens upon a cougar cub he chooses to interpret as injured. Clutching the frightened wild animal in his hands, Davey crows about what a wonderful pet it will make. At no point does Heart in the Rockies propose the potential long-term ramifications of this – a pet mountain lion! Then Davey topples off a cliff with the cub. Stuck now on a ledge, jagged rocks below, the boy questions why all this happened. Hey, Davey, maybe next time don’t steal cougars and jump up and down on loose rocks afterwards!

Now a mother cougar is closing in, and not in a good way like in a singles bar. Understandably, she fears for her cub’s life, as it remains in Davey’s grasp. The Mesquiteers, on the other side of the canyon, could care less about the cougar’s side of the story. It’s predatory, and thus worth shooting. I hate this movie for placing a boy in jeopardy to support its Palin-esque “shoot all mountain lions” agenda. The park rangers try to prevent this noble creature’s murder, so Stony holds them at gunpoint (their hats are slightly more tan than his, therefore he’s got the right). Lullaby fires, and the mountain cat is granted a most humiliating death – it flies 10 feet in the air, then smacks off the cliff as it plummets, like that propeller guy in Titanic.

Davey is rescued, and Stony turns to lambast the park rangers: “I’m getting tired of your interference!” Yeah, really, what gives them the right? God DAMN IT!


The Mesquiteers now return to the Dawsons’ hut, mostly so Stony can slake his lust for a 15-year-old hillbilly. One of the nearby inbreeders, Charlie Dawson, says something in a slightly raised voice not directed towards Stony. That’s all Stony can take; he punches Charlie right then! (The Mesquiteers have become unconscionably violent as well as hypocritical, and yet never once are we meant to think they’re less than 100% noble.) The knife fight that ensues is actually the best thing about Heart of the Rockies, because it supersedes the disgusting anti-animal bias in favor of pure stunt work. For once, I am glad a Mesquiteers fight scene goes on for too long. (Also, I kinda like the “Mesquiteers vs. mountaineers” notion.)


The fight over, and nothing resolved, the Mesquiteers ride away.

Then Ed Dawson shoots Davey’s lion cub dead for no fucking good reason whatsoever. So…let me get this straight. Bear killing: good. Cougar killing: good. Cute cougar killing: bad. Gotcha!

The Dawsons sell their illegal bear pelts to the Mesquiteers, our heroes. Thus it’s onward to the evil “Mesquiteer framing” side of their scheme. Part of this plan involves getting the rangers to arrest Stony. Lucky for the Dawsons, Stony on his own accord is off in the Park killing bears, for the good goddamn hell of it. Thus one of the rangers is about to arrest Stony when Charlie murders the ranger. His reason? So the other rangers will arrest Stony. Let us never question the logic of incestuous mountain poachers!

It’s a bit late in the movie for a new plot thread with Stony as a wanted man. Nonetheless, he hides out at the Dawsons’ shed, looking to clear his name. This somehow allows the filmmakers an opportunity for repeated lascivious shots of 15-year-old Lorna, as naked as a 1937 movie will allow. This movie has problems!


The means by which Stony clears his name are somewhat unclear. He dukes it out with Charlie, the murderer, upon a runaway wagon, allowing for a dry run of the famous battle sequence in Stagecoach. Charlie dies, trampled underfoot, as the rangers near. At this point, Stony basically says that Charlie (now dead) confessed (to Stony) of the murder (that Stony saw him commit). Well, that’s all the rangers needed to hear! Stony is cleared! Of course, his hat is white.

Well…there are two things I like about this movie. It has nice location footage of Colorado, and stunt coordinator Yakima Canutt’s antics remain jaw-dropping. However…

While many films of the ‘30s and ‘40s are incurably racist, and therefore offensive, there’s something I find far more hateful in the outdated opinions of Heart of the Rockies. That it phrases its argument so poorly, vilifying the Dawsons for the same actions is praises the Mesquiteers for, doesn’t help. I guess it isn’t the noblest thing of me to condemn this movie for its ideological stance, as I feel usually films should be judged primarily on their artistic accomplishments. That is, I’m willing to defend D.W. Griffith or Leni Riefenstahl on aesthetic grounds, even while I find their films’ positions reprehensible. But the thing is, their movies are aesthetically compelling; Heart of the Rockies rather lives or dies by its ideologies. There is nothing else of quality here that cannot be found (in greater quantities) in other Three Mesquiteer movies. Nine movies in, Yakima Canutt alone cannot cut it.


Related posts:
• No. 1 The Three Mesquiteers (1936)
• No. 3 Roarin’ Lead (1936)
• No. 4 Riders of the Whistling Skull (1937)
• No. 5 Hit the Saddle (1937)
• No. 6 Gunsmoke Ranch (1937)
• No. 7 Come On, Cowboys! (1937)
• No. 8 Range Defenders (1937)
• No. 10 The Trigger Trio (1937)
• No. 13 Call of the Mesquiteers (1938)
• No. 14 Outlaws of Sonora (1938)
• No. 19 Santa Fe Stampede (1938)
• Nos. 29 – 38 (1940 – 1941)
• No. 35 Prairie Pioneers (1941)
• Nos. 39 – 51 (1941 – 1943)

The Three Mesquiteers, No. 8 - Range Defenders (1937)

Well I’ll be jiggered! That one was a western!...Okay, fine, all of the Three Mesquiteer movies are westerns, technically, but Range Defenders comes across like a serious western, exploring real issues of pioneer lawlessness, of good versus bad. Tonally, of course, it’s in the same ballpark as the rest of its franchise (plenty of help there from inexplicable comic relief Lullaby). Still, it has a plot that makes sense, and could easily be reapplied to an A-western. Of course, we also have all those wonderful Yakima Canutt western stunts which are a B-western’s bread and butter, which would be a mighty tough thing to trade out.

Stony’s brother George (Thomas Carr) has come to visit. Already, man’s unnecessary violence towards his fellow man is highlighted, as George immediately gets into a life-or-death showdown with Tucson Smith (Ray Corrigan) for no conceivably good reason. This is only broken up by brother Stony Brooke (Robert Livingston), with the aid of Lullaby Joslin (Max Terhune). All of those men but for George are our series regulars, the Mesquiteers, to reiterate a point I have grown somewhat tired of.


Now we learn the reason for George’s arrival. He is wanted for murder in his home town of Green Valley. Despite what we’ve just seen, George insists he is innocent, hiding out due to a miscarriage of justice. He cannot get a fair trial in Green Valley, on account of Sheriff Dan Gray (Earle Hodgins) is in the pockets of local sheep monopolist John Harvey (Harry Woods), the man George suspects of framing him. (He’s on the lam from a lamb man!) Furthermore, the Brooke brothers’ (gee, that sounds like a clothing store) homestead, the Lazy K Ranch, is being put on auction by this same Harvey, in a bid to draw George out.

Naturally, wherever there is injustice, the Mesquiteers will be there – okay, the franchise never posits such an altruistic notion, but it’s nice to think it. While George hides out in a cave like a common Platonic metaphor, the Mesquiteers ride into Green Valley to disrupt the auction going on in the Bonanza Café. This duty falls mostly to Lullaby, a voice-throwing ventriloquist. As he proceeds to throw the bidding into a tizzy, like Cary Grant in North by Northwest, two clear cut town factions become apparent: There are Harvey’s men, who blindly follow him just like the sheep his fortune is built upon. Opposite them are the cattle ranchers, now being portrayed as wholly good, after so many Mesquiteer entries vilifying cattlemen on principle.

Any time you have a mass of angry men together in this franchise (or, really, in general), fistfights are bound to break out. Just like the time I suicidally wore Dodgers gear up to Wrigleyville when the Cubs lost to L.A., violence is unavoidable. This is something every Mesquiteer movie must have, and these scenes are increasingly being played for laughs. Consider, minus the symbolism being, er, rammed home, how Lullaby acquires a sheep’s head to head-butt the shepherd’s butts. I actually find the premise of a lawman bought and paid for an interesting one, and sadly The Three Mesquiteers’ own generic compulsions prevent it from playing out to its full.


Fight over, Stony reveals himself to Harvey, and the auction is off. Stony takes control of the Lazy K, and even sees to it that Harvey’s flocks are shooed from the premises. Old ranch hand Pete (who’s busy building a house straight out of Unforgiven) spells out for us the entire range war scenario, how Harvey is strong-arming the cattlemen with Sheriff Gray’s backing. Tucson here plays the idealist, much like Jimmy Stewart in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, and proposes he run against Sheriff Gray in the upcoming election (Tucson has sheriff experience – see Hit the Saddle, when he himself abused such a position). This shall be our central conflict: the Mesquiteers seeking legal, political means of justice. Harvey’s gotten the cattlemen’s beef, and they will steer clear of kowtowing to any more bull!

Meanwhile, Lullaby, ever the furry, seeks more oddball comic distractions as he purposelessly gets a sheep’s goat. Thus the ram rams him.


While Tucson is off courting the electorate, and Lullaby is making like the ancient Greeks, Stony has himself another of his textbook romances. But even in this formulaic element, Range Defenders finds ways to make it dramatically compelling! Today’s Bond girl is Sylvia Ashton (Eleanor Stewart, yet another Mesquiteer female lead to have no other roles ever), the daughter of the man George supposedly murdered. She’s also deep in Harvey’s proverbial pockets. This will but a serious thorn in the relationship once she learns Stony’s identity, leaving him feeling sheepish.

Tucson is successful in getting herds of ranchers to flock to his anti-sheep rally. But any serious attempts at public discourse are quickly stymied by corrupt Sheriff Gray. Tucson challenges Gray to a civic debate, then punches his teeth out – Ah, the subtleties of politics!

Lullaby also joins in on this high-falutin’ Socratic dialogue, by means of – Okay, I feel I am morally required to warn you from now on…Lullaby produces Elmer the dummy, one of the most terrifying things in human history.

I warn you because every time Elmer’s hideous visage shows up, I fall under the doll’s Satanic power, and am helplessly compelled to include him in a screen shot – so the beastly puppet’s reign of Eldritch horrors can perpetuate.

So this is a warning – There is an image of Elmer below.

Just turn back now if you haven’t the stomach for it.

Okay, you were warned…


[Shiver!] That creature has been haunting my nightmares lately!

Back to business: Tucson’s popularity growing heedlessly, Gray resorts to more overtly vicious tactics. His henchmen ambush the Mesquiteers while they’re out riding the wasteland together aimlessly, as they do half a dozen times per entry. At gunpoint, Tucson is forced to sign a document signaling his withdrawal from the race. Rather, Tucson spurts ink all over the henchmen. The Mesquiteers, unarmed and even horseless, clamber through the rock formations to evade their would-be tormentors. Coming upon a cliff overlooking a river, they proceed for the series’ second time (the first being Roarin’ Lead) to pull a Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid – that is, they cliff dive. It must’ve been a Yakima special. (Psst – they’re the three dark spots in the image’s upper left.)


Lullaby’s shenanigans proceed to drag this entire movie down with them. This time, he throws his voice so that a parrot can express his favor for candidate Tucson. This is only noteworthy for the totally bizarre thing that happens next – a bad guy blows the parrot away at point blank with his six-shooter! (I must note, it was a fake parrot.)


Harvey decides to step up his game. He learns of where George is hiding, and sends his goons to fetch him. In a nicely meta moment, George mistakes them for the good guys because Harvey had them switch from black hats to white hat. Uh oh, these western villains are becoming genre savvy!

At Gray’s corrupt insistence, a trial for George will be forgone, as they rather go straight for the hangin’. This draws Stony into town, to attempt a rather desperate rescue. All this accomplishes is Stony’s imprisonment alongside his brother. And since Sylvia has now overheard Harvey openly confessing to her father’s murder, she’ll have to be locked away too – into a locked office room with her!

Harvey is an interesting baddie (for a B-western), and I think genuinely he would’ve just straight away murdered these three – if not for one thing. It’s election day now, and Tucson has organized the ranchers to vote in droves. This goes against Gray’s own civic policies of voter fraud. There’s only one option left: physically seal off entrance to Green Valley, and hold the town to martial law.


The violence has nicely escalated in this entry, as all vestiges of civility slowly seep away. It concludes with all-out warfare, on a scale unseen in all other Mesquiteers, the cattlemen on the outside laying revolutionary siege to the entrenched (politically and literally) shepherds inside. Seriously, put this notion in the hands of a Sam Peckinpah instead hack Mack V. Wright, and you’d have a classically vicious western finale!

As Lullaby plays Patton against the mutton menace, Tucson sneaks behind enemy lines to rescue Stony. Here, Tucson has his final victorious scuffle against Gray. Harvey tries to escape altogether, except Stony blows him (and his horse) up with freaking TNT! This in turn explodes all remaining henchmen. Even in 1937, action movies knew you could solve everything with explosions!

The film’s final gag seeks to undermine much of what Range Defenders did well. Basically, Lullaby has another wooly romantic liaison with his sheeply paramour. Ewe! Also, ew!

Range Defenders has good action, an emotional through line, and a genuine and engaging conflict concerning Old West corruption. I’m pretty tempted to call this far and away the best entry in this series. Only Riders of the Whistling Skull gives it any competition, though that film works from the perspective of a pulpy, Indiana Jones adventure story. Range Defenders feels more like Unforgiven, were it a B-western from half a century prior. Efforts to wrest control away from ruthless interests must descend into violence. This is a dramatic conflict far above the Mesquiteers’ usual concerns with grotesque animal jokes and narrative incoherence.

Achieving such striking success eight entries in is something only B-movie programmers from this era can do. Then, a series could get off the ground with the assumption that it could and would improve – again, film franchises of the 30s follow the pattern of television programs, which rarely peak in episode one. Yet for all my gushing, the overall level of quality is never huge, even when a series is delivering at the top of its capacity. The dichotomy between A and B-pictures determines a lesser treatment, by definition. But imagine what the story of Range Defenders could yield under the hands of a Clint Eastwood. The central notion here is solid; it simply needs a mightier venue than The Three Mesquiteers to realize it fully.


Related posts:
• No. 1 The Three Mesquiteers (1936)
• No. 3 Roarin’ Lead (1936)
• No. 4 Riders of the Whistling Skull (1937)
• No. 5 Hit the Saddle (1937)
• No. 6 Gunsmoke Ranch (1937)
• No. 7 Come On, Cowboys! (1937)
• No. 9 Heart of the Rockies (1937)
• No. 10 The Trigger Trio (1937)
• No. 13 Call of the Mesquiteers (1938)
• No. 14 Outlaws of Sonora (1938)
• No. 19 Santa Fe Stampede (1938)
• Nos. 29 – 38 (1940 – 1941)
• No. 35 Prairie Pioneers (1941)
• Nos. 39 – 51 (1941 – 1943)