Seeing this was a producer Sam Katzman quickie production, I wasn't expecting much. What I got was even less. So why beat a dead horse when a half-dozen reviewers have already mocked the film. I guess I just can't resist it. Besides, maybe someone has finally awakened the sleepwalking Scott Brady. In the long line of Billy the Kid impersonators, his is easily the weariest, from start to finish. But then, he's already pushing middle-age, a 30-year old looking like 40— some Kid! St. John, on the other hand, looks very much a kid, like she just stepped out of a 1950's malt shop, Debbie Reynolds ponytail and all.
Remember, this is supposed to be 1880's eastern New Mexico, even though that desolate prairie looks nothing like the movie's lush San Fernando Valley. I don't mind some liberties with historical accuracy, but this movie is about as accurate as a cartoon. Oh well, it probably played three or four drive-in's, before earning back the fifty bucks Katzman spent on it. I hope I learned my lesson, at least until the next bomb comes down the Western Channel chute.