Archive for the ‘Kathleen Crowley’ Category

This third volume in Kino Lorber’s Audie Murphy series gives us three of the seven pictures he did with producer Gordon Kay for Universal International — each shot in less than three weeks for about half a million bucks. They’ve been given a bad rap over the years. Some of them are really good. And they always have a great cast.

Hell Bent For Leather (1960)
Directed by George Sherman
Starring Audie Murphy, Felicia Farr, Stephen McNally, Robert Middleton, Jan Merlin, John Qualen, Bob Steele, Allan Lane

Audie’s mistaken for a murderer. A marshal (Stephen McNally) knows Audie’s innocent, but wants the reward and the glory.

Shot in Lone Pine in CinemaScope. Directed by George Sherman. A cast that includes John Qualen and Bob Steele — what’s not to like? I’m really excited to be doing a commentary for this one.

Posse From Hell (1961)
Directed by Herbert Coleman
Starring Audie Murphy, John Saxon, Zohra Lampert, Vic Morrow, Robert Keith, Rodolfo Acosta, Royal Dano

Audie rides into town right after four escaped convicts have shot the marshal and taken a woman hostage. He assembles a rather worthless posse and goes after them. Herbert Coleman was an assistant director for Hitchcock and others. Here he makes his debut in the top slot.

Showdown (1963)
Directed by R. G. Springsteen
Starring Audie Murphy, Kathleen Crowley, Charles Drake, Harold J. Stone, Skip Homeier, L. Q. Jones, Strother Martin, Dabbs Greer

Audie is shackled to killer Harold J. Stone (around the neck!) when they make their escape. Stir in some bonds and Kathleen Crowley and things get pretty tense. Directed by the great R.G. Springsteen and shot in black and white by Ellis W. Carter. By the way, Murphy was furious when he learned this would be shot in B&W, but it works well.

The chance to see these pictures again, certain to look terrific, is a real treat. Highly, highly recommended!

Read Full Post »

Directed by Edward Dein
Starring Eric Fleming, Kathleen Crowley, Michael Pate, John Hoyt, Bruce Gordon

Kino Lorber has announced an October release for the terrific Western/Horror mashup Curse Of The Undead (1959). The story of vampires in the old West, it’s a better picture than you’d expect it to be — pictures like Billy The Kid Vs. Dracula (1966) set the cowboy/monster bar pretty low. U-I excelled at both Westerns and monster movies in the 50s, and Curse Of The Dead succeeds as both.

Ellis Carter’s cinematography is really nice on this one, and it should look terrific on Blu-Ray. Can’t wait to get my hands on this thing!

Read Full Post »

Been meaning to do a piece on Hank Worden for quite a while. He turned up in an episode of The Lone Ranger last night, so I figured now’s the time.

His real name was Norton Earl Worden, and he was born in Rolfe, Iowa in 1901. He grew up on a ranch in Montana, attended both Stanford University and the University of Nevada, served in the Army, and worked on the rodeo circuit as a bronco rider. While rodeoing in Madison Square Garden, he and Tex Ritter were chosen to play cowhands in Green Grow The Lilacs on Broadway.

That’s Hank in the yellow shirt to the right of Tex Ritter.

Worden broke into the movies with Cecil B. DeMille’s The Plainsman in 1936, and was soon appearing in Tex Ritter’s B Westerns.

Hank with Joanne Dru in Red River (1948)

Hank had a small part in Howard Hawks’s Come And Get It (1936), and they say Hawks recommended Worden to John Ford. For Hawks, he did Red River (1948) and The Big Sky (1952). (Why wasn’t he in Rio Bravo?)

Right, as one of the vile, dim-witted Cleggs in Ford’s Wagon Master (1950)*

As a member of John Ford’s stock company, Worden’s in Stagecoach (1939), Fort Apache (1948), Three Godfathers (1948), Wagonmaster (1950), The Searchers (1956, up top) and more.

As the Parson with Frankie Avalon in Wayne’s The Alamo (1960)

Hank continued to work with John Wayne — as part of his stock company. Their last picture together was Cahill, US Marshall in 1973.

Left, with Forrest Tucker and Kathleen Crowley in The Quiet Gun (1957)

He turns up in so much stuff: a couple of the Ma and Pa Kettle movies, Hellfire (1949), The Quiet Gun (1957), Dragoon Wells Massacre (1957), One-Eyed Jacks (1961‚ Marlon Brando killed him off way too early), Smokey And The Bandit (1977) and Clint Eastwood’s Bronco Billy (1980). On TV, he was on The Lone Ranger, Bonanza, Wagon Train, Petticoat Junction, even a few episodes of Twin Peaks (his last role).

Hank Worden added something special to every movie he was in, but it’s Mose Harper in The Searchers that he’ll always be remembered for. And that’s not a bad thing at all.

* One of my favorite photos ever posted on this blog.

Read Full Post »

Kathleen Crowley and Michael Pate on the set of Curse Of The Undead (1959).

Kathleen Crowley
December 26, 1929 – April 23, 2017

I’m sorry to report that Kathleen Crowley has passed away. She was in so many movies I really love — The Silver Whip (1953), Ten Wanted Men (1955), The Quiet Gun (1956), Curse Of The Undead (1959) and Showdown (1963) are the Westerns. Then there’s the sci-fi stuff: Target Earth (1954) and The Flame Barrier (1958). And on TV, she appeared in Cheyenne, Maverick, The Lone Ranger, Batman and tons more. No matter how small the part, she always seemed to give it her all.

Ms. Crowley represented her home state of New Jersey on the 1949 Miss America Pageant, and gave up on Hollywood in the late 60s. “To be honest with you, I didn’t like the direction the cinema was going.”

Laura did a nice post on her here.

Read Full Post »


Directed by Harmon Jones
Screen Play by Jesse L. Lasky, Jr.
From a novel by Jack Schaeffer
Director of Photography: Lloyd Ahern
Musical Director: Lionel Newman

CAST: Dale Robertson (Race Crim), Rory Calhoun (Tom Davisson), Robert Wagner (Jess Harker), Kathleen Crowley (Kathy Riley), James Millican (Luke Bowen), Lola Albright (Waco), J.M. Kerrigan (Riley), John Kellogg (Slater), Ian MacDonald (Hank), Burt Mustin (Uncle Ben), John Ducette, Chuck Connors.


It had been ages since I’d seen The Silver Whip (1953), and I remembered very little about it. Revisiting it thanks to the Fox Cinema Archives DVD-R, I didn’t expect much more than an interesting pairing of Dale Robertson and Rory Calhoun.

Turns out, I really underestimated this film. There’s a lot more going on here than just pairing a couple cowboy stars. It’s a strong story built around a few key action scenes, given plenty of punch by editor-turned-director Harmon Jones.

Race Crim (Robertson) is a stagecoach guard who recommends young driver Jess Harker (Robert Wagner) for his first major run. It goes horribly wrong when Slater (John Kellogg) and his gang shoot up the stage. Sheriff Tom Davisson (Calhoun) and Harker go after the gang, trying to get to them before Race, who’s out for revenge, does. This creates an interesting three-way conflict with both justice (Calhoun and Wagner) and vengeance (Robertson) going after Slater. I won’t go any further than that — this is a cool movie and I don’t want to spoil it.

sanstitre5rth cropped

Of course, Robertson and Calhoun are terrific. A lot of us have been enjoying Calhoun pictures lately, and this has become one of my favorites. But the film belongs to Dale Robertson, whose change from Calhoun’s best friend and Wagner’s mentor to a bitter, obsessed rival gives The Silver Whip a lot of its strength in the last few reels. Robert Wagner (seen in a color still below) seems so young — he was still three years away from The True Story Of Jesse James (1956).

Harmon Jones never seemed to make much of an impression as a director, or at least nothing to match his clout as an editor (Yellow Sky, Panic In The Streets), and he spent the bulk of his career directing TV (Rawhide, Perry Mason). But the final chase here, expertly staged along a tall ridge, shows he had the chops. (I’m fond of his 1956 Universal Western, A Day Of Fury, again starring Dale Robertson.)

6tgn cropped

We’ve all been hard on the 20th Century-Fox Cinema Archives DVD-R program for problems with aspect ratio, etc. I’m happy to report that this one looks great. It’s 1.37, as it should be, with a black and white transfer that shows off Lloyd Ahern’s crisp cinematography. Unlike some of you, perhaps, I like a little dirt and dust in these things. Growing up watching 16mm prints of films like this, a speck here and there is part of the experience.

It’s so easy to recommend The Silver Whip, along with its appearance on DVD (available from major online retailers).

Read Full Post »

Directed by Edward Dein
Produced by Joseph Gershenson
Written by Edward Dein and Mildred Dein
Director of Photography: Ellis W. Carter, ASC
Music: Irving Gertz
Film Editor: George Gittens, ACE

CAST: Eric Fleming (Preacher Dan Young), Michael Pate (Drake Robey), Kathleen Crowley (Delores Carter), John Hoyt (Dr. Carter), Bruce Gordon (Buffer), Edward Binns, Jimmy Murphy, Helen Kleeb, Jay Adler.

Also known as Mark Of The West. Working title: Affairs Of A Vampire.


MGM had its musicals. RKO had a real knack for film noir. The best gangster pictures came from Warner Bros. Republic made the really good serials. And from 1931 (with Dracula) through the Fifties, Universal absolutely owned the Horror Film — and they were no slouch when it came to 50s Westerns.

The studio had been bringing Frankenstein, Dracula and The Wolf Man together in various “monster rallies” or having them meet Abbott & Costello since the 40s, and it makes sense that they’d eventually get around to combining the two genres they truly excelled at. And in 1959, they did just that — with the clever Curse Of The Undead. (Today, we’d probably call it a mash-up.)

But this wasn’t some Big Idea that came down from somebody at the studio. This genre-busting “vampire western” started out as a joke.

The story goes that writer-director Edward Dein and his wife Mildred wrote a screenplay as a lark — a satire about a gay vampire gunslinger biting the young men of a small Western town. Its title: Eat Me Gently. The Deins passed their gag script around their circle of friends, and it eventually wound up in the hands of Joseph Gershenson. A music supervisor and sometime producer at Universal-International with a list of credits as long as your arm, Gershenson saw a real movie in there somewhere, and the Deins set to work refashioning their screenplay into what would become Curse Of The Undead.

It’s a well thought out picture, operating just enough within the conventions of the genres it inhabits, using the clichés of both to its advantage. You can tell the Diens had fun turning conventions upside down. You’ve got the usual range war plot, with a typical gun for hire — only this time he’s Drake Robey (Michael Pate), a member of the undead. The idea that a vampire can’t take daylight is reworked to let our bloodsucking cowboy ride the range — here, exposure to the sun is only painful. And the vampire lineage comes from Spain, not Universal’s beloved Transylvania. What’s more, suicide makes you a vampire, not the bite of another vampire. (It’d be interesting to find out just how much of Eat Me Gently still resides in Curse Of The Undead.)

A strange illness is killing young women in a small, unnamed Western town. The only clue: two small puncture wounds on each girl’s neck. Dr. John Carter (John Hoyt) and Preacher Dan Young (Eric Fleming) are baffled. It’s a scene we’ve seen played out many times, only minus the western wear. At the same time, Dr. Carter is being pressured by a local rancher, Buffer (Bruce Gordon), to sell his ranch — another familiar scene.

Into these converging plotlines rides Drake Robey (Michael Pate), a gunslinger and vampire. Needing the blood to survive, he’s responsible for the mysterious deaths. And he’s working his way into the ranchers’ squabble, killing Dr. Carter and drinking the blood of his daughter Delores (Kathleen Crowley), who’s now in charge of her father’s ranch.

Preacher Dan is engaged to Delores, and he begins to suspect that Robey is more than just a hired gun protecting the Carter ranch. Dan eventually discovers an old diary, where he learns of rancher Don Miguel, whose son Drago Robles returned from Spain to find that his beloved had been seduced by his brother Roberto. Drago killed Roberto, and overcome with grief, killed himself. This suicide cursed Drago to spend eternity among the undead.

Not to give too much away, Curse Of The Undead builds to a gunfight involving bullets with crosses etched into them — as Preacher Dan squares off against the vampire. A key scene really illustrates the liberties taken with the genres’ conventions and just how clever the Deins’ screenplay is at blending them. Buffer challenges Robey in the saloon. Both men draw and Buffer is hit — and dies certain that he drew first and hit his opponent. Later, we see a hole in Robey’s vest — Buffer had indeed been quicker on the draw. (This idea of an undead gunfighter, who wins even if he’s outdrawn, could easily have been the basis of an entire film.)

Michael Pate is quite good as the vampiric Robey/Robles. His approach to the material seems to set the tone of the whole film. Menacing and eerie, to be sure, but clearly in on the gag. Dein and Gershenson were wise to offer him the part.

Michael Pate: “I was sold right away, then when Eddie and Joe told me it looked as if they’d have Kathleen Crowley playing the girl in it and Eric Fleming the preacher — well, I just couldn’t wait to start filming.”

Kathleen Crowley: “I loved character actors, much more than the pretty boys. Michael Pate was one of those men. I always remember being in bed in Curse Of The Undead and Michael taking the blood from my neck — that was so exciting. He was very nice and I enjoyed working with him.”

Eric Fleming, who plays Preacher Dan, was in the early days of his success as Gil Favor on TV’s Rawhide. The show began its run in January of 1959, with Curse Of The Undead hitting theaters in July.

Pate: “Eric was a very well-meaning actor and person and worked very hard, but he was inclined to be a little dour.”

Some of Fleming’s dour expression may have been the result of plastic surgery — a Seabee, his face was severely injured in an accident during World War II.

Of course, much of the picture’s success has to be credited to the Deins. Edward had written Val Lewton’s The Leopard Man (1941, additional dialogue), The Cat Creeps (1946) and Seven Guns To Mesa (1958), so he came to Curse Of The Undead with experience in both horror and the Western. Mildred had worked on a number of her husband’s earlier scripts, including Shack Out On 101 (1955), a quite effective, and completely original, cheap noir picture.

Kathleen Crowley: “He knew how to ‘get inside’ of people — very unorthodox, but an excellent director and a very truthful person. I enjoyed working with him, I think he brought out some good work in me in that.”

Michael Pate: “Eddie was an amazing character. He lived up in the hills just above Laurel Canyon with his wife Mildred, who was a real sweetheart, in an old castle with a moat and a drawbridge that you drove over to get inside the entrance courtyard.”

Kathleen Crowley: “He and his wife Mildred invited me out to his house, which was tucked away in Laurel Canyon — and it seemed rather bohemian! It was a strange house, with a drawbridge, and cats all over the place! It was almost like the Addams Family! But they were both very nice to me, and Mildred was very involved with Edward’s work.”

Michael Pate: “It was stylized, it had good set design, very good lighting, it was photographed well.”

Pate is referring to the work of cinematographer Ellis W. Carter, a veteran of Universal sci-fi pictures from the period like The Mole People (1956), The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957), The Deadly Mantis (1957) and The Land Unknown (1957, in CinemaScope) — along with such 50s Westerns as The Texas Rangers (1951) and A Day Of Fury (1956). He gives the night scenes mood to spare. It’s genuinely eerie in spots, with a score that makes good use of the theremin.

Curse Of The Undead is a cheap little movie. Aside from a few quick shots done on a western street, it plays out on a few budget-strapped, under-propped sets. (Seen in its proper 1.85 cropping, Carter shoots those sets so they don’t seem so spartan.)

Michael Pate: “It didn’t have a lot of money spent on it and perhaps there were many things that could have been done with it. There were some scenes that were shockingly corny, no question about that and one or two sets that looked as bare as a baby’s bottom. But overall there were many very, very good scenes in it.”

That was always Howard Hawks’ criteria for a good picture — “three great scenes, no bad ones.”

Curse Of The Undead deserves to be seen as more than a curio. A unique blending of the Western and horror film, it doesn’t cave to the cliches of either — and it’s a better movie for it.

Just how much better is probably a matter of taste.

Be sure to read some of the other fine posts making up the 50s Monster Mash Blogathon.

Sources: The Astounding B Monster, It Came from Horrorwood by Tom Weaver, Universal-International Westerns, 1947-1963 by Gene Blottner.

Read Full Post »


MGM had its musicals. RKO had a knack for film noir. The best gangster pictures came from Warner Bros. The really good series Westerns and serials were Republic’s. And from 1931 (with Dracula) through the Fifties, Universal absolutely owned the Horror Film (though toward the end, their output starting leaning more and more toward science fiction).

Universal (then Universal-International) was also putting out a steady stream of Westerns in the Fifties, ranging from medium-budget films — starring Joel McCrea, Audie Murphy, Rock Hudson, Jeff Chandler and others — to A pictures like Winchester 73 (1950), which now seems like a virtual blueprint for the Fifties Westerns that followed.

In 1959, U-I combined the two genres they excelled at to create the clever Curse Of The Undead. (Today, we’d probably call it a mash-up.)

The conventions of Westerns and horror pictures would have been well known around the Universal lot — hell, they invented most of the Horror ones. Here, writers Edward Dien (who also directed) and his wife Mildred bent the rules a bit. You’ve got the usual range war plot, with a typical gun for hire — only this time he’s Drake Robey (Michael Pate), a member of the undead. The idea that a vampire can’t take daylight is reworked to let our cowboy vampire ride the range. You can tell the Diens had fun turning clichés upside down.

A key scene in Curse Of The Undead, one that really illustrates the liberties taken with the genres’ conventions (without giving too much away), comes toward the end of the film. One of the ranchers, Buffer (Bruce Gordon), challenges the vampire, Robey, to a gunfight in the saloon. Both men draw and Buffer is hit — certain that he drew first and hit his opponent. He dies. Later, we see the hole in Robey’s vest — Buffer had indeed been quicker on the draw. (This idea of an undead gunfighter, who wins even if he’s outdrawn, could easily have been the basis of an entire film.)

Curse Of The Undead is a cheap little movie. Aside from a few quick shots done on a western street, it plays out on a few sparsely-propped sets. And it runs a short 79 minutes. All in keeping with other Universal Horror films of the late Fifties: The Mole People, Monster On Campus, The Leech Woman, etc.

Look it up about anywhere, and Curse Of The Undead is listed as the first “vampire western.” It’s genuinely eerie in spots, with a score that makes good use of the theremin. Michael Pate is excellent, and he’s joined by a capable cast: Eric Fleming (from TV’s Rawhide), Kathleen Crowley and John Hoyt. And it’s a helluva lot better than Billy The Kid Vs. Dracula (1966).

Note: Believe it or not, I came across that still of Michael Pate on an online obituary!

Read Full Post »