I know it seems like I’m cheating a bit by featuring Bowery Buckaroos (1947)—the eighth
entry in the popular Monogram Bowery Boys franchise—as this week’s B-Western
Wednesdays entry…but since it is a Monogram picture, I don’t think you
can argue about its “B” origins.
(Monogram was most assuredly one of the queens in the “B” hive.) Plus, it has an indisputable Western setting,
so…ipso facto, Q.E.D.
Besides, Bowery
Buckaroos is one of my favorite Bowery Boys comedies. I attribute this to the novelty of the situation;
though it requires a major suspension of disbelief to swallow Louie’s past as
an outlaw (as Chuck observes, "Louie, you was never further West than Tenth Avenue..."), the Boys were
never funnier than when they were the proverbial fish-out-of-water. (Their arrival in New Mexico is punctuated by
their legendary jalopy being decked out like a covered wagon, with the gang
singing a song about their adventure to the tune of “Oh, Susanna.”) Slip and the boys acclimate themselves to
their new surroundings fairly quickly…and really—there’s not much difference
between Blackjack and his henchmen and the gangsters the Boys encountered in
practically every one of their vehicles.
Buckaroos opens
with an amusing novelty number performed by Bernard Gorcey entitled “Louie the
Lout” (written by Eddie Maxwell, who also wrote the words to “Two-Gun Tillie”—sung
by Julie Gibson in the film). The
reaction from Louie’s critics (a.k.a. the other members of the gang) is not uniformly
positive:
LOUIE: When I sing that
song...it brings a lump right to my throat...
CHUCK: Too bad...you should have
gotten the lump first...
LOUIE (pointing to his heart):
It hits me right here...
WHITEY: You should get hit...but not there...
LOUIE: That song, it sends
me...that's what it does, it sends me...
BOBBY: It sends you...but not far enough...
I’ve noticed that in many of the early Bowery Boys flicks
that the supporting gang members often get bright bits of comic business; Billy
Benedict benefits enormously from this, as a number of jokes are based on
Whitey’s inability to read. In drawing a
copy of the map onto Sach’s back, Whitey inquires "How do you spell
'x'?" "Just like you sign your
name,” deadpans Chuck. Later in the
film, when Sach has been kidnapped by McCoy’s goons in attempt to get the map (Sach
has stupidly shown it to Indian Joe [Iron Eyes Cody], who works for McCoy), the
gang discover his absence the next morning.
Get a load of Billy Benedict's facial expression (he's over Huntz Hall's left shoulder): "I think I've found Mrs. Whitey!" |
Buckaroos is also
a good showcase for Gabriel Dell…who, with the exception of Hard Boiled Mahoney (1947—another favorite
of mine), was usually cast as a one-time member of the gang now making his way
in the adult world (he was the bridge between the Boys and the outside
characters). Gabe is sent on ahead to
pose as The Klondike Kid, a gambler who ingratiates himself with Blackjack and
his mob…and his performance here demonstrates why Dell had one of the more
impressive careers outside of the group (he had prominent roles in two
television sitcoms, 1972’s The Corner Bar and 1977’s A
Year at the Top, in addition to being a member of the comic
repertory company on Steve Allen’s show).
I like his running gag of noting “I read it in a seed catalog,” an expression
I have been known to use at appropriate moments.
Bowery Buckaroos
was co-written by two scribes who were regular contributors to Bowery Boys movies—Edmond
Seward and Tim Ryan (who also appeared in many of the vehicles in small supporting
roles)—and helmed by the most prolific director of the franchise, William
Beaudine. It’s a rib-tickling Western
spoof staffed with familiar character faces (Russell Simpson, Minerva Urecal,
Norman Willis, Iron Eyes Cody, Chief Yowlachie) and until it turns up again in
the rotation on The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™ your best bet is
purchasing it on the Warner Archive set The Bowery Boys, Volume 2.
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