Man From Del Rio (1956)

Directed by Harry Horner; produced by Robert L Jacks

David Robles (Anthony Quinn) has been waiting for Dan Ritchy (Barry Atwater) in the little town of Mesa since before sunrise. Having practised with a revolver for five years, Robles wants to avenge four men whom Ritchy, an outlaw with a notoriously rapid draw, murdered in the far away town of Del Rio. To everyone’s surprise - perhaps, most of all, his own - Robles kills Ritchy. His fame spreads; the townspeople want him as their new sheriff to replace the effete incumbent (Douglas Spencer), while a local businessman (Peter Whitney) has plans to use Robles himself.

What may seem like a standard western of a certain sub-genre - the outlaw turned lawman - is in some ways rather different than one’s expectations. Certainly, the story includes a number of the usual elements, such as the outsider failing to fit in, a man mistaking fear for respect, and thinking that the use to which he is being put is giving him a place in society, when he is, in fact, viewed as disposable. But some aspects raise Man From Del Rio above the commonplace.

Quinn’s performance is very good. His initial scene, when Robles confronts Ritchy, is well done, the former stammering his way toward a challenge, seemingly trying to persuade both himself and his opponent that he has the nerve to go through with the duel. Quinn’s Robles is insecure, a man lurching from confidence to doubt and back again, depending on how he perceives the reactions of those around him. He gives the impression of a man who was never required to be strong, realizing that his strength comes from himself, and not his firearm: an old story, to be sure, but well interpreted by Quinn.

Other actors do well, but the writing is the superior draw here. The script itself is just above mundane, though it has its moments. There is a good analogy made regarding the townsfolk’s use of Robles, a character saying that when one uses a snake to kill the rats in a house, one doesn’t befriend the snake after it’s done its job. There is also a good ending, which is a contrast to most western movie finales, relying on nerve and tension, rather than action.

But it’s the characters that are of most interest. While Katy Jurado’s Estella, as the obligatory love interest, is not given enough motivation to fall in love with Robles, she is nonetheless a well-devised personality. Whit Bissell is best known for supporting roles in which he plays authority figures. Here he is the town drunk, Breezy. At first seemingly comic relief, like a Jack Elam role, Breezy’s mercenary amorality has sharp consequences. And Whitney’s character, Ed Bannister, is not the normal villain with an eye on a company’s payroll or a big bank deposit. He has grander schemes in mind; his retirement plan, in a way.

It’s of note that Robles’s Hispanic origin is hardly referred to, except by villains. Other gunfighters (ie. murderers) call him ‘boy’, despite his obvious middle-age. As no one else calls him this, it may be taken as a condescension, similar to the denigration implied when used of adult black men. Indeed, the townspeople, though most do not respect Robles, don’t seem concerned by his ethnicity, any more than they are by Estella’s; their disdain for the new gunfighter stems from his killings.

While Man From Del Rio probably won’t convert anyone who dislikes westerns, it will satisfy those who favour the genre, and may win over those who like a decent, small budget movie with a few twists to its seemingly routine tale.