The Old Corral: Why is everyone singing?

Is it worth your time?

Honestly, you probably already know if you like this or not. If you want a gritty, realistic Western, stay far, far away. You will hate every second of it. But if you have a soft spot for 1930s cheese and want to see a sheriff who solves problems with a melody instead of a badge, pull up a chair.

It is definitely a relic of its time. The plot feels like it was scribbled on the back of a napkin in about ten minutes.

The singing sheriff trope

Gene Autry is fine, I guess. He’s got that polite, aw-shucks charm that doesn't really exist anymore. But watching him break into song while a murder investigation is supposedly happening? It’s bizarre. It feels like watching a police procedural where the detective randomly starts a karaoke set in the middle of a stakeout.

Speaking of the investigation, the stakes feel remarkably low. The drama is less high noon showdown and more afternoon tea dance.

• The horses look bored.
• The hats are impeccably clean for a desert town.
• Smiley Burnette is doing a lot of heavy lifting for the comedic relief.

There is this one moment where they’re in a corral, and for a split second, you forget it’s a movie. It just feels like a bunch of guys hanging out in a field waiting for the director to yell 'cut.' It’s the kind of amateur charm that reminds me of My Dog, Pal in the way it just doesn't care about being a 'real' film.

It’s nowhere near as strange or frantic as The Fire Eater, but it has that same feeling of a production that knew exactly who its audience was and didn't care about pleasing anyone else. You can practically see the dust kicking up on the low-budget sets.

Lon Chaney Jr. shows up, which is a nice touch if you like spotting familiar faces. He’s stuck in the background, mostly just looking tough. It’s funny how these old films just toss people in there.

The whole thing wraps up so neatly it’s almost offensive. The bad guys are dealt with, the song is finished, and everyone rides off into the sunset. No lingering trauma. No paperwork. Just a quick tune and a tip of the hat. 🤠

Don't look for depth. There isn't any. It’s just 80 minutes of people singing in the desert. Sometimes that’s enough, I suppose. Or maybe I just need a nap.