Tall in the Saddle (1944)

I’ve got to say, a title like “Tall in the Saddle” wouldn’t normally have gotten my attention—there might be ten movies with that title—but I happened on this one even before I knew Ella Raines was in it—an entertaining Western with young, thin, John Wayne, and George “Gabby” Hayes as a clownish woman-hater. It starts with a comic stagecoach journey, then a saloon, and the classic card game—but a particularly funny one. It’s the usual story—a stranger comes to a town that’s seething with corruption, and he shakes things up. John Wayne is particularly bad-ass as the stranger, Rocklin—and funny, too. It would be a fine entertainment with all the usual elements—but then a wildcard is thrown in, and that’s Ella Raines—a young ranch owner, named Arly Harolday, whose base-level mood is: furious. She wavers between psychopath and spoiled rich kid. But because she’s Ella Raines, she jumps out of the movie—well, maybe that’s the way I see it, as president of her fan club. But she reminds me of the way some of my favorite weirdo actors (Warren Oates, Timothy Carey, Tom Waits) disrupt the screen—a normal movie can’t contain them (much like the best Marilyn Monroe and Brando roles). This might be Ella Raines’ best part in any movie—or maybe I just feel that way because I’m watching it now—but she really makes this movie what it is.

The story is nearly as convoluted and filled with characters as The Big Sleep (1946)—my kind of story—the kind I can watch multiple times. There are way more characters than the average Western, and like The Big Sleep their names have a kind of musical poetry about them. We never even see Red Cardell (same way we never see Sean Regan). There’s also a similar, ongoing, absurdity of situation—it’s comical the number of times people listen through a door, spy through a window, or walk in on other people without knocking! At some point, you realize that’s not just bad writing—it’s an absurdist element. It gets nuttier as it goes along—and ties up with a conclusion (the two leads getting together) worthy of a romantic comedy. The interesting thing is that the woman, Arly, does all the romantic pursuing—and she doesn’t even try to hide it. Rocklin, a confirmed bachelor, resists—but being no idiot, finally gives in. A better ending, however, would be Arly getting together with her loyal ranch hand, the unspecified indigenous Tala (Frank Puglia) who’s in love with her—and also cuter and more dangerous than any man in the movie. They’d be just the couple to stick it to the racists (nearly everyone in town, and a good portion of the audience). Also, that would allow Rocklin to leave town—since that’s a classic Western convention I love—the agitating stranger ending up alone—and leaving town at the end.

9.16.25