Watchable, but far from the best of Boetticher (or Scott). With an almost silly grimace plastered across his face (it's supposed to be a smile, as he's playing a good-natured kinda cuss, but it's not what you'd call a tight fit: his face weren't made fer no smilin'), Randolph Scott breezes through this one like he's gotten himself lost but really doesn't give a hoot where he ends up (or HOW, as when he's about to be strung up for pretty much no reason at all and just sits astride his horse waiting for his Maker to reach down from on high and grab him by the throat). One could argue that Scott's character, fresh from "fightin'," as he puts it, is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. How else to explain his behavior? It's an all-around odd little film, but boasts some beautiful cinematography (especially near the end, when the action moves outdoors) and some fun moments. Oh, and L.Q. Jones, playing James Best.
Review of Buchanan Rides Alone
