Mowing down Apaches
inventor and doctor (though he never practiced medicine), was living in
Indianapolis at the outbreak of the Civil War and devoted himself to improving
firearms. In 1861 he invented
the Gatling gun and a year later he founded the Gatling Gun Company. Later in
life Gatling patented inventions to improve toilets, bicycles, steam-cleaning
of raw wool and pneumatic power, among other gadgets, but he will forever be
remembered as the inventor of the terrible engine of destruction, the precursor
of the modern machine gun. It was used in the Civil War but not extensively, and it is interesting to speculate as to why.
There is not
much (if any) evidence of these guns being used in the West against Indians after the war. Custer
famously refused to bring Gatlings with him in his Little Bighorn campaign. Maxim
guns, not Gatlings, were used at Wounded Knee. But the Gatling made a good
story and Western movies featured them quite a bit. Gatling Gun was an alternative title for Siege at Red River. The War Wagon contained a Gatling in its turret. Dale Robertson did in Stephen McNally with one in Devil’s Canyon. They attacked Billy the Kid in McSween’s store with one in Young Guns. A Gatling was an important plot device in Something Big. And so on.
Western The Gatling Gun really isn’t
very good, though. It has all the look of a cheap spaghetti shot in Spain
(though in fact it was filmed in New Mexico). Made by Broadway Enterprises and theatrically
released in the US by Ellman Film Enterprises, it was directed by Robert
Gordon, his second Western feature of only two (the other was Allied Artists’ The Rawhide Trail in 1958) and his final
It starred Guy Stockwell, Dean’s older
brother. He had been Buffalo Bill in the 1966 remake of The Plainsman but that and this one were his only Western movies (though
he spent more Western time on the small screen). He’s OK, I guess, though his
hair looks more 1970s than 1870s.
The picture is in the public domain, which
means that we often see copies of copies with dismal print quality shown by
low-rent TV stations, as I did. The sound was muddy. Furthermore, the width was
not adapted to my widescreen TV and so, in fashionable 1971 lower case, the
credits told me that the movie starred guy stock, bert fuller, barbara lu and
woody strod. Oh well.
It was made on a $275,000
budget, so don’t expect a cast of thousands or anything.
It’s a pretty standard (and pretty dull)
cavalry/Apache Western, with Stockwell Sr. as brave Lieutenant Wayne Malcolm whose
mission is to recover a stolen Gatling gun which is in danger of falling into
the hands of fearsome chief Two Knife (Carlos Rivas, birth name Oscar von Weber,
in his last Western) and his marauding followers. 1870s-ish, I’d guess. Second-billed
Robert Fuller (who did fewer big-screen Westerns than you might think; this is
the sixth of only eight) is the bad guy Private Sneed who conned well-meaning
but foolish clergyman the Reverend Mr. Harper (John Carradine, nearing the end
of his Western career, but still hamming it up as usual) into hiding the gun – the cleric
cannot countenance its use against his beloved Indians. In a dramatic opening,
the gun is recovered by Lt. Malcolm, though someone has removed the firing pin,
so the device is useless. The Apaches attack so it would have come in handy,
Also on the patrol are Corporal Benton, played
by New Mexico bigwig moonlighting as actor Governor David Cargo, and the scout Runner (Woody Strode,
in the eleventh of his nineteen feature Westerns). Woody’s son Kalai did the
stunts and was 2nd Unit director, as well as being an Apache warrior. So he was
They take refuge at a farm and join forces
with its occupants, Luke Boland (Phil Harris), his bolshie Confederate son Jim (Patrick
Wayne) and the handy cook-mechanic Tin Pot (Pat Buttram), and the latter sets about
fixing that Gatling – otherwise it will be curtains for all the whites. Maybe
it was a joke that they were Confederates because that was always part of comic
Harris’s shtick. Mr. Harris didn’t do Westerns as a rule, though I can forgive
him anything, even that, for his Baloo in The Jungle
Book. Fellow-comic Buttram was of course one of Gene Autry’s sidekicks
(replacing Smiley Burnette).
Naturally there are swell dames. You can’t
have a Western without swell dames. Well, you can, but it’s rare. Third-billed
Barbara Luna is the Mexicana Leona, and she soon proves to be less than
saintly, ready to canoodle with Sneed, or anyone come to that, to advance her
interests. Judith Jordan, in her only Western, poor soul, plays Jim’s sister
Martha, and she will set her metaphorical cap at the lieutenant. The two gals
will go at each other hammer and tongs, in what is often (rather
disrespectfully, I feel) called a catfight.
There’s the odd bit of trendy end-of-the-60s
blood but in general the picture is done ‘straight’ and has little or nothing
revisionist about it. I mean, Soldier Blue it ain’t. The Indians are the fierce enemy, whom it is perfectly acceptable
to mow down in droves with the Gatling (once they get it working). One of the reasons that Govr. Cargo got into political hot water from the Native American and pro-Native American communities.
But it’s not that I found disappointing,
really. It’s just that the whole thing is rather dreary. It just staggered from
one revolver up to two but it was a close-run thing, and I may have been generous. If you want to see a cavalry Western with Apaches, go watch Ulzana’s Raid (1972). That was seriously classy. This one? Uh-huh.