“There are some things a man can’t ride around.“

And there are some lines a writer can’t help revisiting, some setups as well when one thinks about it. Six Black Horses (1962) is about as close as we’re likely to get to a Budd Boetticher western without it actually carrying his name in the credits. Clearly a lot of that is down to the fact it was written by Burt Kennedy, the man who scripted Boetticher’s best films with Randolph Scott. Anyone familiar with those movies will instantly recognize the lines he recycled from those scripts – the one at the top of this piece has undoubtedly embedded itself deepest into most western fans’ consciousness, but there are plenty of others which, with minor tweaks, were first uttered by Scott, Claude Akins, Lee Marvin etc.

A dusty, sun-baked landscape, a man stoically making his way across it not on horseback but on foot, his saddle hefted on his shoulder. This is the first image on screen as the credits roll. The man is Ben Lane (Audie Murphy) and he’s badly in need of a horse. Just as he pauses to rest it seems as though his luck is in – a group of wild mustangs are approaching and a man in his position would be a fool to pass up the chance to rope and ride one of them. However, every story has a shape to it, and in this case it’s a repeating pattern of deliverance and danger. Every time salvation appears to be at hand its evil twin adversity is but a few paces behind. So it is that he finds himself on the end of a rope, accused of stealing horses and about to pay the traditional frontier penalty. It would be a short movie indeed, or a courageous approach to writing, were the hero to depart so early and unexpectedly. He doesn’t; his neck is quite literally saved by the intervention of Frank Jesse (Dan Duryea), a garrulous and amoral gunman who by his own admission has never done an honest day’s work unless it’s absolutely necessary. Together these two ride to the evocatively named town of Perdido and another brush with death. It is here that they meet a woman named Kelly (Joan O’Brien) who offers them the unimaginable sum of $1000 apiece to escort her on a four day trip across Apache infested badlands to rejoin her husband. With a bunch of thwarted mustangers hot on their heels, this is certainly an offer that’s hard to refuse. Once again though, it’s something of a toss up between prize and peril as the trio head into the desert and, to the viewer anyway, it soon becomes apparent that Kelly has something else on her mind.

Harry Keller directed a number of movies I like – Quantez, Seven Ways from Sundown, Man Afraid, and served as producer on others such as Mirage. He was comfortable making westerns and he uses the landscape well here, much of the action takes place out in the wild country and it serves to add scale to a story which is really limited to the interactions of just three people. Nevertheless, and despite the script by Kennedy, it never reaches the heights of those classic Scott/Boetticher/Kennedy films. And I think that’s largely down to the writing. Kennedy, as I have noted, borrows extensively from his own armory, as he did on a number of occasions. However, the success of the Ranown movies was due to a combination of Boetticher’s spare style, the laconic yet authoritative presence of Scott, and the way that star’s characters all had a powerful and compelling drive within them. What Six Black Horses lacks is the kind of implacable inner fire of the Scott figure – one could say some of that has been transferred to O’Brien’s character but it doesn’t work in the same way. Murphy’s Ben Lane is the lead after all and he simply is not motivated in the way Ben Stride, Ben Brigade (Kennedy clearly had a thing for the name Ben) or Jefferson Cody were.

Audie Murphy entered the 1960s in some style. He had done some of his finest work towards the end of the 50s in movies such as The Quiet American and No Name on the Bullet and was looking to build on that. The Unforgiven, Hell Bent for Leather, Seven Ways from Sundown and Posse from Hell certainly did that. In short, he was riding high at this stage and this movie must have looked like a solid way to follow up. He’s as reliable as ever in the lead with that ever present hint of edginess lurking just below the surface, but the fact is the part doesn’t place that many demands on him. He does everything the script asks for, it’s just that the script could have asked for more. Dan Duryea was appearing for the the third and last time alongside Murphy and every one of their collaborations is a pleasure in itself. Both of these men worked well together and their presence alone automatically elevates anything. The role of Frank Jesse was a comfortable fit for Duryea, drawing out that wheedling, weaselly charm he traded on so profitably throughout his career and also affording him the opportunity to dip into the well of pathos – the title itself has more resonance for his character than anyone else after all. Finally, Joan O’Brien holds her own as the third arm of the triangle, maintaining an air of mystery for a long stretch and then presenting a steely core when her true aims are revealed.

For a long time Six Black Horses was almost a lost Audie Murphy picture. I say almost because although it could be viewed the prints available were very poor – faded and frequently cropped. It’s hard to appreciate or even enjoy a movie under those circumstances. However, the film can now be seen as it should be as a result of a recent Blu-ray release in Australia from Via Vision, licensed from Universal. This is not a full restoration and some minor print damage is present, but the movie is in the correct aspect ratio, has strong colors and a sharp image. In brief, it is streets ahead of any of the ropey prints which had previously been circulating. It comes paired on a BD with an equally attractive presentation of Murphy’s The Wild and the Innocent and I heartily recommend it.

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