Since The San Francisco Story stars Joel McCrea and its story involves vigilantes in the Gold Rush days, it will draw inevitable unfavorable comparison to the marvelous 1935 Howard Hawks production Barbary Coast. But that is no more fair than comparing the former's B-babe leading lady Yvonne De Carlo to the latter's top-class star Miriam Hopkins. Or the one-and-only Edward G. Robinson to dependable, if unexciting, character actor Sidney Blackmer, who takes over as San Franciso's head villain in this 1950's "B" Western. Every movie has to be considered on its own merits, and The San Francisco story is not without them, even if it only occasionally rises above the level of its mediocre production values. Though distributed by Warner Brothers, this movie was actually the product of independent production company Fidelity-Vogue Pictures, Inc., which produced only one other picture in its brief, undistinguished history. The San Francisco Story was cursed from the start by under-financing.
While the interior sets are pretty good, the exterior street scenes just look like a standard "B" Western movie town in most places, rather than what was the rather well-developed by the 1850's city of San Francisco. Even worse, the scenes of the country side are obviously arid Southern California around Hollywood rather than the lush Northern California valleys around San Francisco. Only the scenes around the docks are convincing. Again the costuming tends to be typical generic "B" Western gear rather than the antebellum clothing appropriate to the Rold Rush era. The uninspired score, composed of stock music, does little to enhance the dramatic impact.
Robert Parrish's flabby direction moves the story along at a snail's pace with too much expository dialog and not much excitement. Nevertheless, the picture has its moments. Excanges between the sardonic McCrea and his fatalistic mining partner and sidekick Richard Erdman provide a little snappy dialog. The climactic horseback duel with shotguns on a sandbar is certainly a unique touch. In the hands of a more competent director such as Raoul Walsh it could have been a top notch action scene. The best part of this picture is the sequence in which McCrea is shanghaied, barely escapes from a China-bound ship before it sails, then swims to refuge in a colorful dock-side saloon run by a one-eyed old hag, delightfully portrayed by the incomparable Florence Bates, and bar tended by bizarre giant Tor Johnson. More of this type of doings would have made for a much more enjoyable movie.
As it was, The San Francisco Story was mild entertainment. Not bad enough to be disgusted with, nor good enough to get excited about. This modest oater's greatest asset was McCrea's likable, laid-back persona. Best suited for his fans and those of us who will watch almost any Western that's above the Hoot Gibson level.
While the interior sets are pretty good, the exterior street scenes just look like a standard "B" Western movie town in most places, rather than what was the rather well-developed by the 1850's city of San Francisco. Even worse, the scenes of the country side are obviously arid Southern California around Hollywood rather than the lush Northern California valleys around San Francisco. Only the scenes around the docks are convincing. Again the costuming tends to be typical generic "B" Western gear rather than the antebellum clothing appropriate to the Rold Rush era. The uninspired score, composed of stock music, does little to enhance the dramatic impact.
Robert Parrish's flabby direction moves the story along at a snail's pace with too much expository dialog and not much excitement. Nevertheless, the picture has its moments. Excanges between the sardonic McCrea and his fatalistic mining partner and sidekick Richard Erdman provide a little snappy dialog. The climactic horseback duel with shotguns on a sandbar is certainly a unique touch. In the hands of a more competent director such as Raoul Walsh it could have been a top notch action scene. The best part of this picture is the sequence in which McCrea is shanghaied, barely escapes from a China-bound ship before it sails, then swims to refuge in a colorful dock-side saloon run by a one-eyed old hag, delightfully portrayed by the incomparable Florence Bates, and bar tended by bizarre giant Tor Johnson. More of this type of doings would have made for a much more enjoyable movie.
As it was, The San Francisco Story was mild entertainment. Not bad enough to be disgusted with, nor good enough to get excited about. This modest oater's greatest asset was McCrea's likable, laid-back persona. Best suited for his fans and those of us who will watch almost any Western that's above the Hoot Gibson level.