Domino Kid (1957) is a small movie, the kind of picture that that was relatively inexpensive to make and could be relied on to fill the bottom half of a bill. Somehow, probably due to the wealth of industry experience the people working on such features were able to bring to them, these films often managed to be briskly entertaining while at the same time there was a solid core that explored, to a limited extent at least, the themes one would anticipate from a bigger budget, more ambitious production. In this case, the theme that provides the backbone for the story is revenge, the ethical chasm it represents and the hollowness of the reward it promises those who would pursue it.

Domino Kid is a sparse movie, never putting more people on screen at any one time than is strictly necessary. And there is an urgency to it too, the opening shot is quite literally a shot, one delivered from one anonymous figure in a saloon bar and fatally received in the belly of another. The very abruptness of this beginning, its unsentimental, businesslike violence is an indication of the mood or tone of the story itself. Domino (Rory Calhoun) is a man with a powerful appetite for revenge. Having returned from the Civil War to find his family dead and his home raided, he lives now to visit retribution on those responsible. The first reel has a whiff of what was to come in the western genre about it: those bleakly deserted streets in mean looking towns, the lone avenger clad in a low profile black and white outfit, chewing on a cheroot and with a manner that is largely taciturn yet still capable of the occasional dry witticism, the succession of cold and calculated killings – isn’t there something suggestive of the early spaghetti westerns to that? Sure I may be reaching here, but the imagery and mood evoked had my mind drifting off in that direction, and of course nothing appears out of the blue in filmmaking, trends and styles evolve and are picked up on and adapted gradually, even from the unlikeliest of sources. Still, this feel doesn’t go much beyond the early scenes. It thereafter develops along more traditional lines, with Domino returning to the town of his birth and youth and realizing his reputation has preceded him, disconcerted to find himself greeted with open suspicion as opposed to open arms.

The story plays out as a personal conflict, Domino’s own struggle with his conscience, at once pulling him towards seemingly irreconcilable poles representing a cold and unnourishing revenge on the one hand and the warmth of acceptance and civilization on the other. The whole business is further complicated by the reemergence of his feelings for old flame Barbara (Kristine Miller), and the hostility he runs foul of in the shape of the newly arrived financier, and rival for Barbara’s affections, Wade Harrington (Andrew Duggan). There are a few unforeseen developments and detours before the end, but the point about the ultimately unpalatable nature of revenge, be it served hot or cold, is clearly and justifiably made.

Rory Calhoun had recently made the excellent Red Sundown with Jack Arnold at Universal-International but was keen to branch out on his own. He formed his own production company Rorvic in partnership with Victor Orsatti, and Domino Kid was one of the movies that came from that venture. The Rorvic productions I have seen, a number of which were directed by Ray Nazarro, were entertaining enough, but I still think they lacked something of what the bigger studio pictures could offer and I feel that a look at The Saga of Hemp Brown, which was made when Calhoun went back to work for Universal-International, highlights that. Nevertheless, Calhoun does put in a good performance in the lead here, blending the positive and negative sides of his character skillfully and endeavoring to present us with a fairly rounded individual.

A few months ago, I watched Kristine Miller playing the leading and pivotal role in Joseph M Newman’s remarkably ethereal war film Jungle Patrol. This movie doesn’t offer her such a memorable part, but she does bring a classy and effective presence to proceedings and Calhoun was obviously impressed enough to have her cast in a couple of episodes of his TV show The Texan. Andrew Duggan has an interesting and quite an ambiguous role as the newcomer who makes little effort to conceal his resentment of Domino. His career would see him cast as all kinds, and he had that ability to essay characters who could leave audiences guessing. James Griffiths turns up very briefly and bows out just as rapidly, but even so it’s never a chore to watch him on screen. Other supporting roles are filled by Yvette Duguay (The People Against O’Hara), the recently deceased Eugene Iglesias , Robert Burton and the hulking Peter Whitney. For a film with such a brief running time, Domino Kid offers opportunities for each one of those performers to make not only an impression, but an important contribution to the development of the story.

To the best of my knowledge, Domino Kid has never been released on DVD anywhere – of course, if anyone reading this knows otherwise, I should be delighted to be proved wrong. Fortunately though, it is not hard to track it down online, and it can be viewed in very good quality, from a nice widescreen print that displays little or no damage. To tell the truth, there are still a number of Rory Calhoun movies which have not been released on any form of disc. I’d like to think there’s still a chance to see a few of those gaps plugged, but even if we don’t I am pleased that the majority can be accessed. Domino Kid is, without question, a modest production that doesn’t try to overreach itself or aim too high. In spite of its inherent limitations, it takes a common western theme, indeed one which is very familiar from all types of drama, and uses it well. It’s worth remembering that B movies don’t have to be bad movies, and this is an example of one that is actually rather good.

The low budget western was arguably as important a representative of the genre as it’s more illustrious and more expensive cousins. The sheer quantity of programmers and B movies means they deserve attention by anyone claiming an interest in the western. Given the prodigious output, it’s hardly surprising that the quality varied considerably; some managed to transcend the restraints of their budgets, others were just downright poor but most were average efforts, offering an entertaining way to pass the time despite the weaknesses inherent in their production. Apache Territory (1958) is an example of what I’m referring to: a combination of good and bad elements that add up to a moderately diverting hour and something.

As the title say the action takes place n Apache territory, where the hero, Logan Cates (Rory Calhoun), is passing through on his way to Yuma. By his own admission, Cates is one of life’s drifters, a guy  with no particular purpose moving wherever the mood takes him. In this instance, it leads him towards trouble, someone else’s trouble to begin with but it’s soon to become his too. Seeing a group of riders about to be attacked by a band of Apache, he warns them and draws off the assault. It’s only a short-lived respite though as the sole survivor, along with a trickle of other refugees from the renegade raiding party gradually come together in search of safety. A disparate group, including an old flame of Cates’ (Barbara Bates) and her venal fiance (John Dehner), gather in an isolated desert oasis and prepare to wait out the siege. Water is plentiful, food is not, while mutual trust and goodwill are virtually non-existent. As the Apache press and probe, tempers fray and nerves jangle beneath the pitiless desert sun, and the numbers of the defenders are whittled down bit by bit.

Ray Nazarro is a name which probably isn’t all that familiar to many people. I’d say I’ve had a reasonable amount of exposure to movies of every size and shape in most genres and I’ll freely admit that I’ve only seen a handful of examples of Nazarro’s work. I have viewed  Domino Kid and The Hired Gun also starring Rory Calhoun, Top Gun with Sterling Hayden, and a few episode of TV shows such as State Trooper and Mike Hammer, and that’s about it, although I do have a few more titles to hand but not yet watched. Now if anyone spends their career working in the B units, it’s only reasonable to expect them to have a thorough understanding of the concept of economy. Budget filmmaking of any kind is dependent on exploiting resources to the full and wasting as little time and money as possible. Apache Territory certainly has that sense of urgency and pace one typically sees in a B picture, the plot takes precedence over all and characterization not only takes a back seat but also never penetrates deeper than is absolutely essential. The positive side of this is that the story keeps moving along and there’s no shortage of incident.

On the other hand, there are some negatives to take into consideration too. The opening section makes use of locations in Red Rock Canyon but this aspect is short-lived and it’s not long before events move to a studio set, a backlot mock-up of the oasis. While this adds a layer of claustrophobia, giving it that sense of a frontier chamber piece, the contrast with genuine locations is both apparent and somewhat jarring. This is a purely budgetary matter and I don’t think the director can be criticized for any of that. Nor do I feel Nazarro can be faulted for some weaknesses in the script. The screenplay is an adaptation of Last Stand at Papago Wells  by Louis L’Amour, a book I read some years ago and which I recall as being fairly faithfully reproduced here. The problems with the writing, for me anyway, relate to the tendency to rely on some unconvincing dialogue for exposition instead of showing things using cinematic language.

The film was a Rorvic production, meaning it was made via Rory Calhoun’s own company and offered him a strong, heroic role. Louis L’Amour stories generally involved central characters who were relatively uncomplicated, his strengths lying in his descriptions of action and landscape, his ability to communicate an authentic sense of time and place. Calhoun’s character in Apache Territory is pretty much one of those “what you see is what you get” types and he plays this undemanding part fine. The villains in such tales may not have much more depth or added dimensions but they tend to be entertaining. This film has two to enjoy – firstly, we get a snarling turn from Leo Gordon as a resentful and insubordinate cavalryman before he departs abruptly and violently, and then there’s the always welcome John Dehner. His assured work raised many a mediocre movie and he does well as the self-absorbed rival to Calhoun for the affections of Barbara Bates. Ms Bates was good enough as the refined woman who starts to see that she may have made a serious mistake and has the resolve and strength to try to reverse that before it’s too late. The only other female role went to Carolyn Craig, playing a timid massacre survivor who latches onto Tom Pittman’s California-bound orphan. As a sad little aside, Pittman, Craig and Bates all passed away under sudden and tragic circumstances.

Apache Territory was a Columbia release and Sony have made it available on DVD in the US as part of their MOD program. It has also been released in Spain and Italy, and I have the Spanish edition myself. The disc presents the film in a solid enough 16:9 transfer that is quite satisfactory – Spanish subtitles are offered but are optional and can be disabled. Overall, the movie is what I’d describe as routine. Tales involving isolated groups besieged and threatened from without and within are usually good value and Apache Territory is a middling, low-budget example. The lack of money does affect how it’s executed but there’s some nice action and suspense to offset that.