Come on, Cowboys (1937) Online

"Come on, Cowboys" comes close to being the most enjoyable of the Mesquiteer series starring the Bob Livingstone / Ray Corrigan / Max Terhune version of the trio. It combines almost all the elements that fans of the series loved, but like many of these B-plus B movies, it is filled with gaffes that its loyal followers happily ignore.

Although Ray 'Crash' Corrigan was most closely identified with his Tucson Smith characterization in the "Three Mesquiteers" series, he made a even greater impression, albeit semi-anonymously, as various gorillas and large apes in a score of films including the title roles in "Zamba," "White Pongo," and the Orangopoid in the original "Flash Gordon" serial. Corrigan was very skilled in imitating simian mannerisms a la Rick Baker and made a very effective ape, often frightening the more juvenile members of the audience. but for career reasons played most of these roles without billing. "Come On, Cowboys" marks the only time he played both his ape character and Tucson in the same film. As the audience is fully aware that 'Crash' is in the suit, the scene is played for laughs as he tries to frighten one of the henchmen into betraying his boss and is one of the film's highlights as well as a great in-joke for film buffs.

Corrigan, who plays a body builder in "Come On, Cowboys," started his career as a fitness trainer to the stars of Hollywood, where he made contacts who got him small parts in movies beginning with a role as a gorilla in "Tarzan and His Mate." Why did Corrigan get so many ape parts? The simple answer is that he owned the suit. His main competition for simian roles came from Charles Gemora and Emil Van Horn, both of whom also owned their own gorilla suit too, suits in Gemora's case,but neither was quite as fearsome as Corrigan's. Van Horn lost his when his landlady confiscated all his belongings for non-payment of rent.

In 1947 Corrigan sold his suit to Steve Calvert, who continued to play gorillas until 1960 in Poverty Row productions like "The Bowery Boys Meet the Monsters," "Panther Girl of the Kongo," and "Bride of the Gorilla." Corrigan made a brief comeback in "Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklym Gorilla," in which both actors donned the costume.

The many gaffes in "Come On, Cowboy" are typical of Republic's general one-take policy, but one wonders why director Joe Kane didn't do a quick retake of these short scenes. Tuscon mistakenly refers to Alibi as "Stony" in a brief shot and Stony refers to the Treasury Men as G-Men, not T-Men. A two minute reshoot could have corrected either of these dialogue flubs which were the fault of the actors, but Kane either never noticed or didn't care.

Chinese-American actor Willie Fung's 1930s screen persona was somewhat akin to an offensive comedic Asian version of Stepin Fetchit. In a comic scene, the actor plays a 1930s country and western song, "Don't Ever Get Married, My Son" on his 78 rpm Victrola. He is not happy with it, but the next side he plays is Chopin's depressing funeral march dirge, and he smashes the record. Surely director Joe Kane should have realized that the logic of these two polar opposite, completely different musical pieces being flip sides of the sane record was totally incongruous, and Kane should have instructed Fung to choose a different 78, but shooting the scene quickly obviously was the director's greatest priority.

The sloppiness was not just Kane's or the actor's. An even more obvious continuity error occurred in the cutting room. The scene in which Max Terhune is tied up on a dangerously careening buckboard alternates between locations that have a precipitous cliff on his left and others that have obviously flat terrain.

The film opens with the Mesquiteers performing at a circus owned by the trio's stand-up friend and his corrupt partner. Alibi does his ventriloquist act and card tricks, Tucson does a weightlifting strongman act, and Stony shows off his marksmanship. One wonders who's running their ranch while they're on tour. When their friend is jailed, the Mesquiteers again become Polyannas and agree to make their friend's year-old daughter their ward, even agreeing in court that one of them will get married to the child's pretty guardian as per the judge's order. Although neither Tuscon or Stony, a notorious skirt-chaser in earlier episodes, wants to get spliced, it doesn't seem to dawn on anyone involved to grant custody to the current guardian.

Although logic never seems to deter the Mesquiteer plots, they are filled with the type of action that kept the fans of 1930s Republic Westerns and serials coming through the turnstiles. This is the seventh appearance of the legendary Yakina Canutt in this seventh Mesquiteer entry as both stuntman and henchie. In "Come On, Cowboys" Canutt doubles for Corrigan and does his signature jump from a galloping stallion to a horse team on a runaway buckboard. Canutt would later expand on that 'gag' in the classic "Stagecoach" in 1939. The film also includes a rather uncharacteristically brutal scene in which the actor shoots two of his fellow gang members in the chest through the jailhouse window at close range to prevent their talking to the sheriff, a level of violence not common to the series.

The film ends with a reprise of the earlier wedding ceremony. How the trio get out of it is unexplained and becomes a real cliffhanger guaranteed to to bring the audience in when Mesquiteer feature #8 premiered in two months.

A brief caveat... most of the versions of "Come On, Cowboys" currently available on DVD are the 52 minute version edited for TV in the early 50s from its original 56 minute running time.

Robert Livingston, Ray Corrigan and Max Terhune were just one of several lineups that were the Three Mesquiteers. In fact, there were about a dozen different lineups and it even featured John Wayne as one of these do-gooders in a few of them. However, oddly, the ones featuring Livingston, Corrigan and Terhune are the ones that are mostly in the public domain. Part of it is because they played the roles the most often but I'd be interested in seeing some of the other lineups--and they are rather difficult to find. For the most part, I've never been that impressed by these public domain Mesquiteer films--but fortunately, "Come On, Cowboys" is worth watching. The film is typical of many of the 1930s B-westerns in that it's set in a bizarre world with 1930s AND late 19th century--with cowboys, crooks AND 1930s things like telephones and electric lights! "Come On, Cowboys" begins oddly--with the trio working for a traveling circus. Despite this, it IS pretty entertaining--and about the best part of the film. Apparently, they are working for one of the circus' owners, as he's a pal in need--and the Mesquiteers ALWAYS are about helping others (sort of like old west social workers). Soon after leaving this circus to return to their ranch, they are recalled to help the owner (the Mesquiteers ALWAYS are trying to go home to their ranch and ALWAYS are interrupted from settling down to a life there). It seems that someone (though it's obvious who) has planted counterfeit bills on the nice owner and now he's been sent to prison. He needs the boys to not only help prove his innocence but take care of his darling daughter.

At this point in the film, western film cliché #4 comes into play. There is a pretty governess and, inexplicably, she takes a dislike to the Mesquiteers and she acts very petulantly--and no real woman (except those in need of medication) would behave this way. And, because of her nasty meddling, the three have to fit hard to get custody of the runt.

There are some interesting things look for in the film. A nice case of animal cruelty occurs when one of the boys trips some horses using a rope (they really did this--it was not a trick--poor horses!). Also, for once, Max Terhune's ventriloquism (a stupid thing to put in a western) is pretty funny. There also is a bizarre part of the film where one of the boys dresses up like a gorilla to try to coerce a confession!! But to me, the most interesting aspect of the movie is the probably unintentional gay subtext. While many of these western heroes seem indifferent towards women, the three men (who live together and seem to do everything together) seem to hate the thought of sex or marriage to a woman. It's pretty funny seeing Corrigan and Livingston both behaving like marriage to a woman was worse than cancer!! So is it worth seeing? Well, if you are not a fan of B-westerns, probably not. But for lovers of the genre, it's good--funny and breezy entertainment.

Rigby, one half of the Rigby-Harris Circus, is running a counterfeiting ring and is trying to buy out his partner so that he can have a front where he has total control of. Harris refuses to sell, so Rigby frames Harris for his crimes and now thinks he has control over the circus. Rigby doesn't realize that Harris' stake in the show is through his visiting daughter Nancy, who Harris has adopted by Stony, Tucson, and Lullaby, who suspect Rigby of being the ringleader. Our three heroes try to get the evidence that will convict Rigby, but have to work against time since Nancy can only be adopted if Stony makes the ultimate sacrifice of (shudder) marrying Nancy's governess Ellen. This entry in the 3 Mesquiteers series is not exactly a winner, but if you like the comedic aspects of the series, you'll enjoy the film nevertheless. The plot really is not fleshed out, Rigby is not the vilest of villains, and action is almost non existent. One of the film's highlights is Corrigan (as Tucson) get into his ape suit to intimidate a henchman. Rating, 5.

The Three Mesquiteers, in this film played by Ray Corrigan, Bob Livingston and Max Terhune are not shown to the best advantage in this particular film. In fact they're almost downright idiots as they just can't bring the villain to just because he's too smart for them most of the way.

The guys are ignoring their own spread to travel with a carnival owned and operated 50% by a friend of their's. When someone substitutes counterfeit for some payroll cash and the carnival employees start spreading it around, Ed Cassidy the owner is in one big jackpot.

There's no suspense involved since we know almost right away that the real villain is the guy who owns the other 50% of the show. But the Mesquiteers have an additional problem in that Cassidy's juvenile daughter Anne Bennett has to provided for. Instead of getting the goods on the bad guy, the Mesquiteers spend more time in a custodial battle which our villain carefully exploits to best advantage.

In the end of course he's brought down and it's comic relief Terhune who actually does it, using a carnival trick we saw him do in the beginning of the film.

Far from the best of the Mesquiteer series.

Daft plot has Mesquiteers agreeing to adopt little Nancy, the requirements being that they must stay out of trouble for one week and that either Stony or Tucson must marry Nancy's plank-like governess. They also perform in a circus and round up a gang of not very sinister counterfeiters.

The boys bicker in the usual manner, Crash fights the bad guys in his ape suit, Lullaby leaves a trail of playing cards which appear, magically, from his mouth and Elmer insults the punters at the circus.

I suspect the Saturday matinée crowd would have loved this one despite a paucity of action.