Red River RangeRepublic release of Robert Beche production. Directed by George Sherman. Screenplay by Stanley Roberts and Betty Burbridge and Luci Ward form an original story by Luci Ward. Camera Jack Marta; editor Tony Martinelli; music William Lava. Completed November 7, 1938. Running time 55 minutes. Weekly Variety, January 11, 1939: Modern angle yet old as the hills in formula, ‘Red River Range’ is styled for the western fans who want horses, men who ride and fight, dished up in slightly different style. The cattle still get rustled, but in style with refrigerated trucks; and the guy gets the girl, who dresses one season in advance of the best dude ranch in the neighborhood. Built up as infallible in outwitting the bad boys who show up in the range country, the Mesquiteers, Ray Corrigan and Max Terhune, backing up John Wayne’s play are 100 to 1 and better wind up on top, and 50 to 1 to come off without a scratch. The three-wayed screenplay by Luci Ward, who authored the original story, Stanley Roberts and Betty Burbridge, sends then unwaveringly to solution of a smart big-time racket in a vehicle which moves at all times. The 20th century handling of the herd is accomplished by a well-organized mob which works fast. Cattle are rounded up, banged over the noggin, skinned and the hides buried, carcasses cut up and hung in refrigerated trucks for hauling from the spot without a trace. Similar situation was used in one of last season’s Gene Autry pictures, but any idea only used twice in westerns is better than brand new in view of many of the repeats in the actioners. Both the cattlemen’s association and the beef retailers become interested and send agents to ogle the area. Find operations are screened behind William Royale’s dude ranch. John Wayne is at all times the focal point of the story’s telling, he figuring as a masquerading killer trying to get a line on the cow-nappers by throwing in with them. One of the most capable hoss operators, he looks the part and delivers action aplenty when he closes in. Corrigan and Terhune are played down. Latter’s weak attempts to drag in his ventriloquism and the dummy should be eliminated, not adding a thing. Femme department is shared by Lorna Gray, for the romance side, and Polly Moran, who grunts and wheezes for a few laughs as the typical, spread-bottomed, clubwoman turned dude. Both are incidental. Kids like Sammy McKim, who presents the juve trade with some good work from one their own age. Reluctance to move on down the road a little way for some change in scenery is the sole distraction, too many repeats over familiar ground previously cameraed. Capable of typical Mesquiteer biz.
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