The film was a British-Spanish-Italian co-production with American and Irish leads and a British director, Peter Collinson, remembered today almost entirely for one movie, the singularly British heist comedy The Italian Job (1969). Driven but apparently often quite hostile toward to his casts and crews, he was rarely handed other major projects and his other pictures were mostly mediocre to terrible, Hammer's repugnant psychological horror thriller Straight On Till Morning (1972) and the tepid, Harry Alan Towers-produced Ten Little Indians (1974) being two examples. In The Man Called Noon, Collinson applies the same striking visual sense that enlivened The Italian Job, even though the two pictures couldn't be more different otherwise.

In a Western town, unknown assassins ambush an apparent gunfighter (Richard Crenna) in his hotel room. He falls hard from the second-story window but just barely manages to escape by hiding in a boxcar of a departing locomotive. In the boxcar is Rimes (Stephen Boyd), an outlaw-drifter who quickly realizes that the man, who calls himself "Jonah," in fact is probably a notorious gunfighter named Jubal Noon. Noon himself can't remember who he is, as the gunfight (in which he was also grazed by a bullet to the head) and/or fall has afflicted him with amnesia.

In search of his identity, Noon decides to tag along with Rimes, who joins a heavily guarded ranch where Fan Davidge (beautiful Rosanna Schiaffino) is clearly in some sort of danger. Noon and Rimes eventually begin to peace together the former's identity after locating a hidden ranch and gold mine, whose cabin is literally carved out of a mountainside. Soon enough it becomes clear that influential Judge Niland (Farley Granger) and Peg Cullane (Patty Shepard), the widow of a man Noon had shot, are plotting to steal Noon's hidden gold.

That synopsis doesn't sound particularly promising for a Western plot, but Collinson's handling of the material makes it compelling throughout, at least until The Man Called Noon's mildly disappointing climatic shootout, which is well-staged but conventional compared to the rest of the film.

Richard Crenna appeared in the occasional Western (Catlow, Breakheart Pass) but was hardly a Western star. He was never "box office" in any genre, despite important roles in movies like The Sand Pebbles, Wait Until Dark, and Marooned, and he was undeniably one Hollywood's busiest actors, albeit more on television, until his death in 2003. He must have aspired for respectability as an actor, and immediately before this had appeared in Jean-Pierre Melville's great Un Flic (1972). And though not a great choice from a commercial standpoint, Crenna's bland world-weariness screen persona make him almost an inspired choice as Noon.

Likewise Stephen Boyd, who tended to be either similarly bland but competent or wildly hammy (e.g., The Oscar). Rimes is just colorful enough to be memorable but not indulgent or over-the-top. Farley Granger (Strangers on a Train) seems to have been cast mainly because of his availability (he worked extensively in Italy at this time) and is pretty ineffectual as the main heavy, but American expatriate Patty Shepard, the Barbara Steele of Spanish horror films, makes a strong impression as his accomplice.

British-born cinematographer John Cabrera lived in Spain for most of his career and his other credits are generally unimpressive, suggesting it was Collinson who gave The Man Called Noon its distinctive look, in which nearly every single shot in the picture seems to have been carefully considered and composed for maximum impact. The camerawork in Collinson's other films were often showy for its own sake (in Straight on Till Morning it becomes downright maddening), but here the angles, camera movement, and cutting generally serve to help the viewer get inside Noon's head or some other reasonable purpose.

The picture stands out from run-of-the-mill Euro-Westerns in other ways. Nearly all such films, shot as they were with international casts, were almost always dubbed in Rome using expat English-speaking actors, but quite clearly here all the dubbing was done in England. (Familiar voice actor Peter Dyneley does several voices.) The work is more polished and technically better. It's almost jarring not to hear the usual gang who voice such pictures, but the acting is less cartoony and more naturalistic.

Another odd credit is veteran stuntman Bob Simmons as associate producer. How Simmons, who doubled Sean Connery as James Bond in the gun barrel opening of the first three 007 movies, became involved with this particular project is unknown, but The Man Called Noon does have a much higher quotient of impressive/unusual stunts. The score by Luis Bacalov (Django) is heavily influenced by Morricone's main theme from Once Upon a Time in the West and other Western scores, but original enough and adds to the picture's effectiveness.

Video & Audio

Filmed for 1.85:1 release, The Man Called Noon looks great, with excellent detail and color throughout. The 2.0 mono audio is likewise reasonably robust and optional English subtitles are offered. Region "A" and no Extra Features.

Parting Thoughts

A pleasant surprise, The Man Called Noon wasn't the terrible, gimmicky Euro-Western I was expecting and, while short of greatness, impresses, especially via this fine transfer. Recommended.

Stuart Galbraith IV is the Kyoto-based film historian largely absent from reviewing these days while he restores a 200-year-old Japanese farmhouse.