At first, it's a "How the West Was Won" journey of settlers heading to California (with a banjo on their knee), then it's about the gold rush. then a gambling hall, and finally a political squabble over statehood and impending civil war. And as much as it looks like a Cecil B. DeMille epic, it isn't, directed instead by John Farrow.
But, oh, what a pleasure it is to look at, starting off with a travelogue like prologue with an E.Y. Harburg song. Barbara Stanwyck makes her entrance being tossed out of town by the proper ladies and gentlemen and reluctantly being picked up by the wagon train lead by Ray Milland. He doesn't want her on it, but feisty Barry Fitzgerald sympathizes with her and takes her along in his wagon. Then, news of gold breaks, everybody scrams, and Milland and Fitzgerald are left to themselves, surrounded by the junk yard of the journeyer's furniture left behind, the west coast's first garbage dump.
It continues with an obviously dubbed Stanwyck singing a song in a gambling hall she's purchased, getting involved with ruthless Albert Dekker and alternately insulting and defending Milland while secretly supporting Fitzgerald for senator, Dekker's rival. It's the last segment that's the most interesting, a fictionalized vision of early California before swimming pools and movie stars, not to mention ski resorts, Hollywood signs, freeways and governators.
Stanwyck gets to wear some bewitching gowns by Edith Head and is alternately tough, tender and tempestuous. Wasted in a tiny role, Anthony Quinn is nevertheless handsome in his brief dance with Stanwyck, historically important to see two legendary stars together. They would share more scenes in 1953's melodramatic "Blowing Wild". Milland is grizzled enough to take away the image of him in tailored suits from past movies (even though the same year he got his ear pierced by Marlene Dietrich in "Golden Earings") while Fitzgerald gives a performance filled with wisdom, heart, and humor.
Colorfully filmed, this is still an interesting account of the settling of a land once wild, now overcrowded, yet still filled with beauty where cities have not yet risen.
But, oh, what a pleasure it is to look at, starting off with a travelogue like prologue with an E.Y. Harburg song. Barbara Stanwyck makes her entrance being tossed out of town by the proper ladies and gentlemen and reluctantly being picked up by the wagon train lead by Ray Milland. He doesn't want her on it, but feisty Barry Fitzgerald sympathizes with her and takes her along in his wagon. Then, news of gold breaks, everybody scrams, and Milland and Fitzgerald are left to themselves, surrounded by the junk yard of the journeyer's furniture left behind, the west coast's first garbage dump.
It continues with an obviously dubbed Stanwyck singing a song in a gambling hall she's purchased, getting involved with ruthless Albert Dekker and alternately insulting and defending Milland while secretly supporting Fitzgerald for senator, Dekker's rival. It's the last segment that's the most interesting, a fictionalized vision of early California before swimming pools and movie stars, not to mention ski resorts, Hollywood signs, freeways and governators.
Stanwyck gets to wear some bewitching gowns by Edith Head and is alternately tough, tender and tempestuous. Wasted in a tiny role, Anthony Quinn is nevertheless handsome in his brief dance with Stanwyck, historically important to see two legendary stars together. They would share more scenes in 1953's melodramatic "Blowing Wild". Milland is grizzled enough to take away the image of him in tailored suits from past movies (even though the same year he got his ear pierced by Marlene Dietrich in "Golden Earings") while Fitzgerald gives a performance filled with wisdom, heart, and humor.
Colorfully filmed, this is still an interesting account of the settling of a land once wild, now overcrowded, yet still filled with beauty where cities have not yet risen.