George Hamilton is an inexperienced lieutenant in the cavalry (!) newly assigned to a post under the command of the somewhat unkempt, but very savvy Captain Richard Boone. Hamilton was born in Comanche territory but is the son of a general and has spent some years in a comfortable post back East. He thinks he knows everything and is anxious to fight.
He discovers that his former love, Luana Patton, is about to marry another officer. There are intrigues, involving Hamilton's making out with Patton behind her fiancé's back, and an attempt at blackmail by the uncouth Private Charles Bronson. Others in this pretty good cast include Arthur O'Connell, Slim Pickens, a young Richard Chamberlain, and Casey Tibbs, who may need Googling by those who have never heard of rodeos.
There's a good deal of talk, interrupted by action episodes of some interest, and the dialog has the ring of authenticity. A cavalry patrol discovers two women raped and butchered by Indians, and an officer gives the order for "three married men" to dress the women for burial. When the three dismount they are ordered to hand the reins of their horses to the man to the right of them. That's a nicely observed detail. So is the fact that an unpleasant odor accompanies the transport of four dead bodies.
Richard Boone, as the commanding officer, knows his business but he's stern and distant too. Nobody really gets close to him without being addressed as "Mister" and formally reprimanded for some minor infraction. Is this beginning to sound a little familiar? One of the sayings attributed to Boone is "never apologize, it's a sign of weakness." Honest.
The similarities stem from the fact that the story was written by James Warner Bellah, a pulp writer who also produced the stories for John Ford's "Fort Apache," "She Wore A Yellow Ribbon," and "Rio Grande." James Warner Bellah was a neat writer, with a good deal of military experience behind him. His weakness as a writer was Manicheanism. The white cavalry, whatever its internal conflicts, is superior in every respect to the treacherous and faceless American Indians. It's really a retrograde assumption and has nothing to do with political correctness. The guy was a talented racist. On top of that, the officer corps is superior to the enlisted soldiers who live only to collect their pay and immediately get drunk and pass out.
It wouldn't have taken much skill to turn this story into an involving saga of life in a cavalry outpost, with all its tribulations and its little rewards, to show some affection for the community. John Ford was able to do it -- three times. But director Joseph M. Newman opts to forget about a balanced, adult approach and hew to Bellah's dry and severe outline. It's all rather carelessly executed. All the officers except Boone have carefully styled and gelled hair. George Hamilton removes his cavalry hat and his hair is STILL flawlessly laid out across his scalp!
The performances are all professional and the basic plot is interesting. It's too bad that so little imagination was invested in its execution. The absence of poetry is pretty nearly startling. What we wind up with is a talky picture about people we don't really care much about.
He discovers that his former love, Luana Patton, is about to marry another officer. There are intrigues, involving Hamilton's making out with Patton behind her fiancé's back, and an attempt at blackmail by the uncouth Private Charles Bronson. Others in this pretty good cast include Arthur O'Connell, Slim Pickens, a young Richard Chamberlain, and Casey Tibbs, who may need Googling by those who have never heard of rodeos.
There's a good deal of talk, interrupted by action episodes of some interest, and the dialog has the ring of authenticity. A cavalry patrol discovers two women raped and butchered by Indians, and an officer gives the order for "three married men" to dress the women for burial. When the three dismount they are ordered to hand the reins of their horses to the man to the right of them. That's a nicely observed detail. So is the fact that an unpleasant odor accompanies the transport of four dead bodies.
Richard Boone, as the commanding officer, knows his business but he's stern and distant too. Nobody really gets close to him without being addressed as "Mister" and formally reprimanded for some minor infraction. Is this beginning to sound a little familiar? One of the sayings attributed to Boone is "never apologize, it's a sign of weakness." Honest.
The similarities stem from the fact that the story was written by James Warner Bellah, a pulp writer who also produced the stories for John Ford's "Fort Apache," "She Wore A Yellow Ribbon," and "Rio Grande." James Warner Bellah was a neat writer, with a good deal of military experience behind him. His weakness as a writer was Manicheanism. The white cavalry, whatever its internal conflicts, is superior in every respect to the treacherous and faceless American Indians. It's really a retrograde assumption and has nothing to do with political correctness. The guy was a talented racist. On top of that, the officer corps is superior to the enlisted soldiers who live only to collect their pay and immediately get drunk and pass out.
It wouldn't have taken much skill to turn this story into an involving saga of life in a cavalry outpost, with all its tribulations and its little rewards, to show some affection for the community. John Ford was able to do it -- three times. But director Joseph M. Newman opts to forget about a balanced, adult approach and hew to Bellah's dry and severe outline. It's all rather carelessly executed. All the officers except Boone have carefully styled and gelled hair. George Hamilton removes his cavalry hat and his hair is STILL flawlessly laid out across his scalp!
The performances are all professional and the basic plot is interesting. It's too bad that so little imagination was invested in its execution. The absence of poetry is pretty nearly startling. What we wind up with is a talky picture about people we don't really care much about.