HALF WAY TO HELL (1960) **

 

Half Way to Hell is Al Adamson’s first feature as a director.  He co-directed the film with his father, Victor, a longtime B western vet whose career spanned all the way back to the silent era.  It’s interesting because it is very much a hybrid.  It was made in 1960, but it often looks and feels like it came out thirty years prior.  From the old timey font used in the opening crawl, to the raggedy look of the film stock, to the chintzy music on the soundtrack, it feels like an early talkie much of the time.

It’s also pretty bad too.  I don’t know why they just didn’t go all the way to Hell with this one.  I mean, they were already half way there.

Only occasionally do we get a taste of the junior Adamson’s cinematic flair (or lack thereof).  A few scenes have stark close-ups that run incongruent of the creaky set-ups found elsewhere in the picture.  The most notable anachronistic touch is Al himself.  While most actors in the film feel like they stepped out of a B oater from the ‘30s, Al’s performance as the slimy villain feels similar to some of the despicable character we’d see later on in the ‘60s in the work of Peckinpah.  (IMDb misidentifies his character as “Escobar”, but he actually plays “Slade” under the pseudonym “Rick Adams”.)  He’s sweaty, grimy, and has a demented grin on his face.  (He sort of resembles an unhinged Arch Hall, Jr.)  No matter how spotty the overall quality of the movie gets, it does come to life whenever Adamson is front and center as his off-kilter energy brings a much-needed breath of fresh air to the proceedings. 

The plot is interesting at least.  A woman is on the run from her domineering fiancée who wants her to live a life of servitude.  While on the trail, she comes along a wandering cowboy whose horse threw a shoe and gives him a ride.  When her husband’s men get the drop on the carriage, they kidnap her and leave the cowboy for dead.  Eventually, the dazed cowpoke comes to his senses and sets out to rescue her. 

While the western action is thoroughly routine, the notion of a woman escaping her traditional way of life is very progressive for the time.  Like Adamson’s performance, it feels like something you would’ve seen later in the decade.  I’m not sure if Adamson intended this sort of progressive slant when he co-wrote the script, but it’s certainly possible as many of the female leads in his later work were stronger than what was usually depicted in the typical drive-in fare of the day. 

While there are some sparks here and there, for the most part, Half Way to Hell is a slog.  It’s only 67 minutes, but it feels longer than The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.  I guess we could chalk that up to Adamson not being in full creative control of the picture, as he had to share the directorial duties with his father.  However, there are enough glints of promise here that prelude Adamson’s future work.

The pokey pacing threatens to stall out the film at many junctures, but it comes surprisingly to life during the final act.  It’s here when we have not one but two bullwhip duels that pack a real punch.  These scenes are definitely edgier, leaner, and meaner than the stuff found earlier in the film.  Heck, there’s even a genuine surprise to be had in the finale.  This crisp bit of filmmaking isn’t enough to salvage the movie, but it is a nice glimpse of things to come.