The attack on the stagecoach is thwarted by Dave Collins
(Tim Holt) and Chito Rafferty (Richard Martin), the two individuals who own the
stage line (and like The Lone Ranger and Tonto, just happen to be in the
vicinity when all this goes down); Dave and Chito chase those rough boys away
before they can commit mayhem, and guide the Arnolds to nearby Casco City. Once in Casco, Jessie steals away from the
old man—and gets a Lucy Ricardo-like idea to don male garb so she can continue
on to Prescott, grab a freight to Frisco, and be with the man she loves. As the stage departs Casco—with “Jesse” and
Birdie (Carol Hughes), a lady friend of Chito’s, on board—Clint and Parnell
have another go at getting rid of Father Arnold…only to discover he’s not on the stage (he’s back in Casco,
looking for his “daughter”). Thatcher’s
goons decide to take a strongbox filled with $20,000 to make up for their oopsie…but
in their getaway, Jessie gets a look at Parnell under his kerchief. The hunt is now on to round up the
bandits—and to protect the only witness.
Boyd Magers at Western
Clippings gives Stagecoach Kid
(1949) a laudatory four-star rating…and despite my
stated dislike for Richard Martin as Tim Holt’s sidekick Chito, I am in
agreement that Kid is one of the
best entries in the R-K-O Holt series.
It’s well-written (story and screenplay by Norman Houston) and
well-directed (the indefatigable programmer-meister Lew Landers), with a superb
supporting cast that includes Joe Sawyer (who worked in various “mug” roles at
Warner’s over the years), future Lassie ranger Robert Bray, Thurston
Hall, Carol Hughes, and Kenneth MacDonald—again surprising me by playing a man
on the right side of the law (he’s the sheriff of Casco).
It’s Jeff Donnell’s performance as Jessie/Jesse that makes Stagecoach Kid a favorite here at
Rancho Yesteryear; I’m a big fan of the actress and her appearances in such
classics as The Power of the Whistler
(1945), The Phantom Thief (1946), In a Lonely Place (1950), and The Blue Gardenia (1953). (Director Landers worked with Donnell in the
1942 Boris Karloff-Peter Lorre oddity The Boogie Man Will Get You.) Jeff later
played George Gobel’s wife Alice on his comedy-variety series in the 1950s, and
recurring roles on both Dr. Kildare and Julia.
Donnell’s male masquerade requires a huge suspension of
disbelief; at one point in Kid, Holt’s
character admits that he knew she was a female all along…but I didn’t buy it,
and I don’t think anyone else watching this oater will either (my guess is that
“Dave Collins” grew up in a monastery).
Jeff has a difficult task in Kid;
the character she portrays is a spoiled, selfish woman…and yet the actress
makes her quite likable with her insouciant approach to the role. When she’s first introduced to Martin’s
character—he announces he’s “Chito Jose Gonzales Bustamente Rafferty” with his usual
flourish—her response is a thing of beauty: “Who cares?”
Many fans of Holt’s westerns have pointed out that the star
displays a bit of a romantic side in Stagecoach
Kid; there’s even a suggestion that he and Jessie will hook up at the final
fadeout (both of them go in for a kiss).
But there’s something mighty distasteful about this romance: if we accept
Dave’s assertion of “Yeah, I knew you were a girl the whole time”—then why does
he resort to caveman tactics like giving her a swift kick in the ass and,
later, turning her across his knee for a spanking? I could comprehend this behavior if he were
disciplining an unruly kid (I don’t endorse it, mind you—but I understand) but
if Dave hasn’t been fooled by “Jesse” he kind of comes across as a macho
dink. That part of the picture left a
bad taste in my mouth (it’s been suggested by a few that Kid is a western remake of It
Happened One Night), and the implication that the two will happy-ever-after
once the theatre lights go up doesn’t ring true.
The romance in these films is usually best to the libidinous
Chito, the character of Birdie provides an amusing wrap-up to Stagecoach Kid when she turns up in
full bridal regalia…prompting Chito to say hello Mexico and adios baby to
you. Carol Hughes, who does fine work as
Birdie, was originally going to play Donnell’s part but settled for a
supporting role due to a scheduling conflict.
My copy of Kid was obtained,
of course, from The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™…but if you’re
TCM-deprived (something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, by the way), it’s
available on the Warner Archive MOD collection Tim
Holt Western Classics: Volume 2.
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