A complex narrative and circuitous storytelling collide with a host of genre standards in the Old West. In this case, that's a pretty good thing. I say 'standards' instead of cliches since many of the tropes present are so well done that this film ultimately serves as an exemplar of the style rather than as an exercise in eye-rolling contempt that a lesser effort would elicit. James Stewart plays against type (again--this is at least the second time I've seen him play a mostly ornery cowboy) as a revenge-seeking saddlehand, Shelley Winters looks good, and of all people both Rock Hudson and Tony Curtis (wet behind the ears in both cases) make appearances in small roles, while Stephen McNally and Dan Duryea make for effective and somewhat entertaining psychopaths (another staple of the Western genre). Those elements, plus some timely injections of humor and action, keep things interesting and lively for the duration. Those not as fond of the category might not like this one all that much, but as a (growing) Western aficionado, I found it worth my time. Oh, and it also shows that America's obsession with guns--in this flick, literally one particular, titular gun--is not a recent phenomenon.
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