Billy the Kid

After a ruthless land baron named "William P. Donovan" (James A. Marcus) orders the murder of several people who refuse to sell him their land, several local ranchers decide to band together to defend themselves. One particular rancher is a man named "John W. Tunston" (Wyndham Standing) who has as one of his employees a loyal gunman known as "Billy the Kid" (John Mack Brown) who isn't afraid of anyone. Even so, that doesn't stop William Donovan from continuing to intimidate the local residents. However, after ordering the murder of John Tunston, he soon comes face-to-face with a kind of violence he never thought would happen--and Billy the Kid soon becomes his worst nightmare. Now, rather than reveal any more, I will just say that this turned out to be a pretty decent Western which benefited from good performances by Wallace Beery (as "Sheriff Pat Garrett"), Kay Johnson (John Tunston's wife "Claire") and the aforementioned John Mack Brown. And although the sound technique was quite good for its time, the editing technique could have used some fine-tuning as the scenes didn't flow well together at all. Likewise, it should also be noted that there are several historical inaccuracies contained in this movie with the primary one being the manner in which the film ended. But that's Hollywood for you. Even so, I enjoyed this movie for the most part, and I have rated it accordingly. Slightly above average.

Although generally forgotten, this version of "Billy the Kid" (1930) has held up remarkably well and should surprise contemporary viewers who think of the early talkies as something out of the Dark Ages.

I'm normally disgusted when these so-called historical epics take great liberties with the truth (particularly when the true story is more interesting that the embellished version) but almost 80 years since its release I doubt if the film will be taken as serious history by any new viewers. They probably should have changed the names along with the facts but there was marketing potential in promoting it as the story of William Bonny.

The title character is played by a young Johnny Mack Brown, just a couple years after his 1926 MVP performance for the victorious University of Alabama in the Rose Bowl. Mack was called "The Dothan Antelope" from his high school football days in Dothan Alabama. Watch for signs of his athletic prowess throughout the film, especially at the end where he mounts a horse and rides sidesaddle into the sunset while wearing handcuffs and leg irons.

King Vidor's "Billy the Kid" was quite a production for its day, probably the first major production filmed in a widescreen format. Although most likely you will have to view it in the 4 x 3 Hollywood format in which it was simultaneously filmed.

Brown's co-star was Wallace Beery (playing Pat Garrett) and their scenes together are excellent, the two manage a nice chemistry with different yet very complementary acting styles. The role made Beery a major star in "talking" pictures and Brown soon became a Top 10 movie cowboy.

Then again, what do I know? I'm only a child.

There were few westerns ever made in the 1930s that had better casting than this film. Johnny Mack Brown is perfect as Billy the Kid, and Wallace Beery is just as perfect as his personable best friend, Pat Garrett. Of course, this movie has very little to do with reality or the actual fact about Billy the Kid and Pat Garrett, but audiences in the 1930s Depression era were not really concerned too much about reality; if anything, they wanted to leave reality behind for a few hours. This film fits that bill. The tale of the pursuit and capture of Billy the Kid has been done more than half a dozen times in Hollywood, but not with more empathy and humor than this version. Watch it and see for yourself.

This film was full of surprises for me, given its less-than-stellar reputation. One has to view it in terms of Hollywood myth-making and not as if it's an episode of `Biography.' King Vidor's camerawork is startlingly fluid - he uses camera movement and cutting very effectively. One of the biggest surprises was the brutality (not to be confused with gore) of certain scenes. The film also does an excellent job of creating a mood of futility. As for Johnny Mack Brown, at first I thought he was inappropriately cast. But as the movie continued, his characterization seemed more valid. And of course, the location shots are stunning. This film is underrated and overdue for critical re-evaluation. Perhaps that will happen if an archivist finds a widescreen print!

So OK this film has little to do with the real story of Billy the Kid, but director King Vidor gets the Lincoln County war (over land and cattle) pretty right. The location shooting for this talkie looks like New Mexico but not like the town of Lincoln. But Vidor captures the lawlessness and viciousness that drove the real-life events.

Johnny Mack Brown (a big star at MGM) was still finding his way in talkies when he was cast here (against Vidor's wishes) as Billy. Brown was 26 years old, the veteran and more than a dozen silent films (working with MGM's top stars like Greta Garbo, Marion Davies, and Joan Crawford), and coming off one big hit talkie (COQUETTE with Mary Picford) and one flop (MONTANA MOON with Crawford). His Alabama accent would soon consign him pretty much to hundreds of westerns in film and on TV til the mid-60s.

But here, Brown is a lanky, friendly, and brutally honest Billy who only kills when it's the right thing to do. His horror at the brutal murders of the unarmed McSween and Tunston drives his sense of right and honor. He's also sorta sweet on the would-be bride of Tunston (Kay Johnson).

Pat Garrett (Wallace Beery) likes Billy but becomes sheriff. He knows his duty but he also knows the Billy the Kid legend is baloney. There's a terrific, long sequence when Garrett and his bunch burn out Billy and his men and pick them off one by one as they run from the burning house. It's a chilling scene but one can't doubt the honesty of it.

Supporting players are an interesting mix here with Karl Dane as a cowboy who grunts a few unintelligible words, Roscoe Ates without his stutter, Russell Simpson, Frank Reicher, Chris-Pin Martin, and Blanche Frederici as the Widow McSween.

But Brown and Beery take center stage and they are a terrific team. Beery is more subdued here than in many of his later talkies, and his rapport with Brown seems real. Brown is so likable as Billy it almost doesn't matter that as biography this is the bunk. Brown's dancing sequence is a highlight.