TARZAN'S MAGIC FOUNTAIN

d. Lee Sholem (1949) 

One of my great heroes is Johnny Weissmuller, so I'm not predisposed to like Lex Barker, the man who replaced him as Tarzan after 16 glorious years. I'm not an unreasonable person, however, so I thought I'd give Barker the benefit of the doubt and see how the interloping twat does at filling Johnny's loin cloth (although I'm assuming Barker got a new loin cloth when he started. I certainly hope so).

These days, Tarzan's Magic Fountain would be described as a franchise reboot: new lead actor, some new sets, some new matte paintings - and a return to some of the gruesome violence that the series was originally notable for but became less prevalent as the films became popular with children. This is counter balanced by an awful lot of comic relief, mostly Cheeta related. There is still a reliance on (often badly matched) stock footage, much of which has already appeared in Tarzan films many, many times over.

The story meanders around a long lost aviatrix (40s horror favourite, Evelyn Ankers) and the idea of a hidden jungle city that has the secret of eternal youth. It's not particularly interesting, and there is an 'of its time' sub-plot where Jane takes charge of an expedition in order to demonstrate all that she has learned from many years of living in the jungle. It's a total disaster, and it's not long before she's lost, covered in killer ants and caught in a flash flood, flapping her arms around and shouting for Tarzan. That will teach the woman to try and do stuff.

So, what does Barker bring to the role? Well, he's fifteen years younger than Johnny Weissmuller, and, understandably, in better shape (Johnny filled out a bit when he hit 40). His biggest contribution, however, is smugness: his Tarzan is extremely pleased with himself, and forever smirking at some private joke or other. It's not an admirable quality, nor is the fact that he wears espadrilles all the time. 

As ever, the film ends on some Cheeta related tomfoolery. This time, Cheeta drinks from the magic fountain of youth and turns into a baby Howler Monkey. A baby Howler Monkey. They must think we are fucking idiots. 

I SHOT JESSE JAMES

d. Samuel Fuller (1949)

I Shot Jesse James was Samuel Fuller's directorial debut, but all of the Fuller trademarks are already in place: spinning headlines, omniscient narration, piquant dialogue, strong women, big close ups, love, hate, action, violence, death. But it's a bit of a muddle, as if Fuller (who also wrote the script) is trying too hard to find an oblique angle that will take the film into territory not normally covered by the standard and already well worn western tropes*. 

Bob Ford is the man who shot Jesse James, a man subsequently reviled in folk songs as a dirty coward (even by the authorities: he didn't even receive the full reward promised). Here, his motivation to kill his friend and colleague is not about the money: he simply wants to be free, to receive a pardon for his previous outlaw life and to get married to the girl he loves. His act of assassination (or murder, there's no clear line in this instance) doesn't liberate him, however, it kills him, filling him with self loathing and regret and making him a target for every kid with a gun who wants to be the man who shot the man who shot Jesse James. Worst of all, his girl turns away from him, no longer able to love a man whose name is synonymous with treachery. 

In this film, which is as much an old fashioned melodrama as a western, Ford dies in a gun fight with a love rival, an upright, honourable man who represents all the values that Ford lacks. It's a nice idea, but a load of rubbish. Ford was murdered by a man who walked up to him and, without warning, blasted him in the throat with a shotgun. There was no pomp, no ceremony, no build up, no drama, no tension, no honour. The man did it simply because he wanted to make a name for himself. For me, that's an ending that is heavy with irony but also sums up the circular nature of violence and, moreover, the savage nature of the old West.  

* Fuller is much more successful at this with his later 'Forty Guns' and 'Run Of The Arrow'.