Universal, 1932. Director: Edward L. Cahn. Screenplay: Tom Reed and John Huston, based on Saint Johnson by W.R. Burnett. Camera: Jackson Rose. Film editor: Phil Cahn. Cast: Walter Huston, Harry Carey, Russell Hopton, Raymond Hatton, Ralph Ince, Harry Woods, Richard Alexander.
The legend of Wyatt Earp and the gunfight at the OK Corral has long been a staple of Hollywood movies. The story—usually embellished and romanticized—has been told and retold in a long list of Westerns, both potboilers and classics. (A personal favorite, for this writer, is John Ford’s My Darling Clementine.) One particular version has intrigued me for years because it’s been so elusive: Universal’s Law and Order, produced in 1932. I was first alerted to this film by no less than William K. Everson, who wrote eloquently, half a century ago, of its excellence and its undeserved obscurity. Enthralled by his account, I’ve waited literally decades for a good opportunity to see it.
I’m delighted to report that that opportunity has arrived—in the form of a beautiful 4K restoration by Universal, issued on a Kino Lorber Blu-Ray—and that the film fully lives up to Everson’s glowing description. One possible reason Law and Order is relatively unrecognized as an account of Wyatt Earp is that all the character names, and many details of the story, are changed, reflecting the film’s source novel, Saint Johnson by W.R. Burnett. No matter: superficial changes notwithstanding, the essence of the story is unmistakable. From the time the leading character, a lawman with a deadly reputation, and his companions ride into the wide-open town of Tombstone, we know without a doubt that we’re witnessing a retelling of Earp’s story.
And, to be clear, the changes to the historical record are not made for purposes of sugarcoating. On the contrary, Law and Order is a tough, uncompromising Western, never flinching from the hard realities of frontier life, and packing several violent action scenes—culminating, of course, in the legendary climactic shootout. No small part of the film’s power comes from the casting of Walter Huston as the lawman. Established by the early 1930s as an actor of uncommon screen presence, Huston brings an added measure of authority to the role, balancing the character’s passionate belief in law and order with a world-weary sense of hard experience. His performance is supported by a strong, intelligent script, co-written by his son—none other than John Huston, still nearly a decade away from his own directorial career. This would not be the last time the Huston family would team up on a film, to the great benefit of the finished production.
Along with its star, Law and Order boasts an exceptionally strong supporting cast. One of Huston’s traveling companions is played by Harry Carey, who was already a veteran of two decades in the movies and had long since established himself as a cowboy star in his own right. For Western fans, no less today than in 1932, Carey lends the film his own aura of authenticity. Aficionados of the genre will also spot other familiar faces in the cast, among them Russell Simpson, Andy Devine, Neal Hart and, in prominent villainous roles, two of the best known Western bad guys: Harry Woods and Richard Alexander.
An unbilled Dewey Robinson appears in the small but key role of the bartender in the saloon where much of the action takes place.
Law and Order is also an extremely well crafted film. During the silent era Universal had built much of its reputation on Westerns (many of them starring Harry Carey), and pulled out all its resources—including its vast library of stock footage, extravagantly displayed in an opening montage—for this one. Director Edward Cahn and his brother, editor Phil Cahn, are both best remembered today for low-budget B pictures. As this film aptly demonstrates, that background had prepared them well for the making of action films; Law and Order, for all its thoughtful rumination on the nature of frontier justice, is at the same time a lean, hard-edged action picture, bristling with nervous energy. Top Western historian Scott Simmon has written of its “gritty, crowded, off-center compositions filmed with a nervously prowling camera.” Most of the problems of sound-film production had been conquered by 1932, and this film, even in its most peaceful moments, gives us dialogue exchanges filmed in long tracking shots through the raucous, noisy streets of Tombstone. The all-out action scenes, notably that climactic gun battle, are staged and filmed with a taut ferocity, and slammed across with rapid editing. And none of this undercuts the theme; rather, these violent episodes support the melancholy fatalism of the film’s stark ending scene.
As if all this were not enough, Kino has supplemented this disc with a bonus feature: Without Honor, a B picture starring Harry Carey, and likewise released in 1932. This represents an altogether different side of the Western: six reels of hard-riding cowboy action, aimed at the juvenile audiences at Saturday matinees. It’s made still more exciting by the appearance, in featured roles, of two players not necessarily associated with Westerns: Mae Busch and Gibson Gowland. For classic-film enthusiasts of all stripes, and particularly Western fans, this disc is a gem and not to be missed.
