Rocky Mountain

There never was any other way. We just put it off awhile.

Rocky Mountain is directed by William Keighley and written by Winston Miller and Alan Le May. It stars Errol Flynn, Patrice Wymore, Scott Forbes, Guinn Williams, Dick Jones, Howard Petrie and Slim Pickens. Music is by Max Steiner and cinematography by Ted McCord.

Tell you what's funny, I was all set to write the prologue to this film as an opener to the review. Taken from a marker that sits at the foot of the actual Rocky Mountain (AKA: Ghost Mountain), it tells us of the noble fact that forms the basis of the story - whist also telling us of the outcome! Couple this with a narration device by our Errol, then you have two rather annoying things that stop this from being high echelon Western film making. As it is, it's a great film regardless.

Plot has Flynn leading a small group of Confederates into California to hopefully curry favour from Cole Smith (Petrie). Smith has a considerable army of outlaws that the Southern Confederates could use in the hope of staving off defeat to the Union forces. Fate, circumstance and matters of honour are set to play their hands.

It was to be Errol Flynn's last Western venture, the last of his work in a genre he was not particularly fond of. How strange to find then that it's actually his best Western film performance. Paired with a director clearly able to tap into something more than being a flirtatious good looking hero, Flynn gives Captain Lafe Barstow a dignified elegance, becoming a leader of men of some considerable substance - and crucially he has screenwriters and producers willing to give us a sombre story.

Filmed out in New Mexico, the surrounds magnificent, it's brilliant how Keighley and McCord cloak the story in a claustrophobic aura. There's a sense of strife as a constant, even as heroic posturing asks us to thump the chest and shout rah rah rah. Flynn's men are a great bunch, lovable tough boy rogues each with their own fallible core, while t...