| 30 Great Westerns
 The plot of The Tall T (1957) is as clear 
and pure as a mountain stream. While in town on an errand, 
affable rancher Pat Brennan (Randolph Scott) loses his 
horse in an unwise bet and resigns himself to a long walk 
back to his remote homestead. While hiking on the trail, 
Pat is picked up by a stage driven by his old friend 
Rintoon (Arthur Hunnicutt, doing a dad-blasted fine Walter 
Brennan impersonation). Inside the stage are Willard and 
Doretta Mims (John Hubbard and Maureen O'Sullivan), 
newlyweds who have hired Rintoon to transport them on the 
first leg of their honeymoon. The stage travels to a rest 
stop, where it is ambushed by three bandits, Frank (Richard 
Boone), Billy Jack (Skip Homeier), and Chink (Henry Silva), 
who believe they are robbing the regularly-scheduled stage 
for its bank money. The bandits shoot Rintoon dead and take 
Pat, Willard, and Doretta hostage. Doretta is led into the 
station to make dinner for the bandits; while she is gone, 
Willard cravenly tells head bandit Frank that he attacked 
the wrong stage but that his wife is the daughter of a 
millionaire copper baron more than capable of paying a fat 
ransom for her safe return. The rest of the film plays out 
like an elaborate chess match, with Willard negotiating for 
his own safety, the bandits negotiating for the ransom, and 
Pat and Doretta waiting for a chance to escape. 
 Within this simple narrative structure, Boetticher and 
screenwriter Burt Kennedy (himself a veteran writer and 
director of Westerns) explore one central theme: the 
differences that can exist between a human being's public 
persona and his/ her hidden thoughts and desires. Willard 
dresses like an Eastern gentleman and professes his love 
for Doretta, yet beneath this facade he's a wastrel who 
married Doretta for her money and betrays her family to 
save his own skin. Doretta, too, puts up a front: she 
behaves like a good daughter and meek wife, until she sees 
Willard murdered by Chink. In a later conversation with 
Pat, she reveals that she knew all along why Willard 
married her: 
 Doretta: "I married him."
 Pat: "That's not what I asked. Did you love him?"
 Doretta: "Yes! Yes, I did."
 Pat: "Mrs. Mims, you're a liar. You didn't love him, and 
never for one minute though he loved you. That's true, 
isn't it?"
 Doretta: [pause] "Do you know what it's like to be alone in 
a camp full of roughneck miners, and a father who holds a 
quiet hatred for you because you're not the son he's always 
wanted? Yes, I married Willard Mims because I couldn't 
stand being alone anymore. I know all the time he didn't 
love me, but I didn't care. I thought I'd make him love 
me...by the time that he asked me to marry him, I'd told 
myself inside for so long that I believed it was me he 
cared for and not the money." The scene ends with Pat condemning Doretta for her 
self-pity, before taking her into his arms, advising her 
that "sometimes you got to walk up and take what you want," 
and kissing her. Because she is honest with Pat, she won't 
have to worry about being lonely ever again. 
	
 Like Doretta, the bandits have trouble reconciling what 
they do with who they are. Billy Jack, the youngest of the 
thieves, tries to act as macho as his compadres, but he is 
visibly disturbed when he realizes that Chink is more 
sexually experienced that he is. (Pat exploits Billy's 
virginal insecurity, and traps him by using Doretta as 
sexual bait.) And gangleader Frank, a casual sadist who 
cackles maniacally when Doretta burns her hand on a coffee 
pot and when Pat bumps his head on a low awning, is a 
bundle of contradictions. He calls Doretta "one of the 
plainest females" he's even seen, but later he brings her food 
and gently covers her up with a blanket as she sleeps. Beneath his 
brutal exterior, Frank has delusions of being a respectable 
man. He keeps Pat alive just so he can chat about his 
dreams of giving up the outlaw life and buying his own 
ranch:
 Pat: "And you think you'll get it this way?" 
 Frank: "Sometimes you don't have a choice."
 Pat: "Don't you?" --by Craig J. Fischer
  
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