Before I go on, let me just list out who the Three Mesquiteers are again. I am doing this mostly so I can be lazy.
Stony Brooke (Robert Livingston)
Tucson Smith (Ray Corrigan)
Lullaby Joslin (Max Terhune)
With three films under their belt buckles, the Three Mesquiteers franchise can now branch out away from formula and really explore the further extents their foundation can yield. Many of the things I’ve come to associate with The Three Mesquiteers are missing from this entry. There’s no climactic western town shootout, no singin’ cowboys, no…well, the franchise really hasn’t distinguished itself in any other ways yet. But those things aren’t here. In their stead, here’s something we call all appreciate: The fourth entry is one of those classic 30s B-movies which directly influenced the Indiana Jones pictures! Archeology, death traps, Euro-centric cultural hegemony, it’s all here in Kingdom – sorry, Riders of the Crystal – sorry, Whistling Skull. Riders of the Whistling Skull – that’s it.
Skull, eh?
AAAAH, Skull!
As usual, this Three Mesquiteers opens with the villain, and what a doozy they’ve come up with this time! No more beating around the sagebrush with mere orphan-murderers, now we have an unmistakable 30s villain: Native Americans! Trust me, though, that sure ain’t what this movie calls ‘em, nor “Indian,” or even “Injun.” No, in Riders of the Whistling Skull’s estimation, they’re “ignorant, dirty savages.” Ah, the 30s. I’d missed such feckless racism ever since completing the Charlie Chan franchise.
But who’s our hero?...I mean, apart from the Three Mesquiteers, naturally. Well, it’s 1930s archeologists. That is to say, grave robbers. You know, “In the name of science, I steal this sacred gold away from the natives’ land for my own wealth,” that type? The specific site of these Caucasians’ pillaging shall be the lost city of Lukachuke…which sounds like a Mexican wrestler. And amongst an over-massive cast of crusty Professors, ones Cleary, Brewster, Fronc and Rutledge, there is our token “one beautiful lady per scenario.” This is Betty Marsh (Mary Russell), whose father (name – “Professor”) went missing in the previous failed expedition to Luchalibre. That gives her, at least, a motivation for the upcoming trip, beyond mere Anglo Saxon imperialism.
Enabling that journey, along comes yet another freaking professor, Professor Flaxon. He was part of the previous expedition, and his diary leads the way to Lukecage. An archeologist’s diary, hmm…The Last Crusade! Flaxon himself won’t be returning, because the minute he steps foot in the trading post, he is murdered. And someone here killed him!
Oh sweet Zarathustra, NO, this is gonna play out like a Charlie Chan murder mystery, isn’t it? Only replace “Chan” with “three random cowboys.” That’s right, for basically no reason (that’s their motivation each time), the Three Mesquiteers are going to go on this expedition and dig up the killer. That is, if the killer wasn’t just an Indian – the local sheriff’s theory, seeing as they were within a mile of Indians. Never mind no Indians were in the sealed, windowless room where Flaxon was murdered, xenophobia trumps logic. (I mean, look at attitudes towards Islam in our country nowadays.) And so while the sheriff is using a random archeologist’s murder as an excuse to persecute natives, the Three Mesquiteers are off on a whirlwind adventure.
I’ll say this for the wagon train expedition: They didn’t film it in the same Los Angeles wilderness as the other entries. Judging by the beautiful canyons on display, it might actually be Utah, maybe even Glen Canyon (which no longer exists, thank you very much, New Deal)!
Anyway, who among this unlikely throng of cowboys, professors, and cowboy-professors could be the killer? It took me too long to figure this out, because I don’t think like someone from the 30s. That is, I’m not racist (as far as I know). Thus, I never considered the Indian guide Otah (Yakima Canutt, legendary white stunt man), could be partly guilty. I say “partly” because this film would never dare suggest an ethnic alone could accomplish all this. No, one of the professors is something far more hiss-worthy: a half-breed, born from the sins of miscegenation, and thus irretrievably evil.
No time for that now! The inhuman Red Man has surrounded our noble whiteys, vile misdeeds on what counts for his mind. So one of the many professors is killed, though never mind which one (it’s never said), and Professor Fronc goes missing. He won’t return until the following morn, with telltale signs of having undergone Indian torture – the Sons of Anatasia’s brand over his heart. Well that sinks it! These savages are Satanists – “Satanist” in the Three Mesquiteers universe meaning “non-Methodist.”
Those drasted Yahweh-abhorring primitives close in again, firing off arrows. The supply wagon is set alight, and the horses flee in horse-terror. While the professors are fighting for their very lives, the Three Mesquiteers ride off to save – the supplies. I thought maybe Betty was stuck on the wagon, giving chaste lothario Stony something to rescue, but I was wrong. No matter, Stony performs some very exciting stunts, leaps from horse to wagon and clambering over the horses. The western-as-action-movie is best defined by such events.
The stunt work reaches a climax, meaning the action sequence is over. The Indians have been driven off for purely tonal reasons. But surprise surprise, Betty is missing, kidnapped by Indians, where she’ll grow up to become Natalie Wood – wait, that’s The Searchers. (That classic is the thoughtful response to the queasy racism in these earlier oaters.) Off the Mesquiteers ride, ready to retrieve a white woman.
The soundtrack lets us know when we’re getting closer to the tribe. Savage drums beat. It turns out to be the Indians doing a trial run for the sacrifice in Temple of Doom, meaning in 30s terms it reads as a homage to King Kong. Betty is tied up on a sacrificial totem, the tribe all dancing around like the discredited cultural stereotypes they are. Showing all due reverence, Stony barges right in like a proper white man, shooting several natives in the midst of their religious ceremony. Nice one, Stonester! And as Stony whisks Betty away, Tucson and Lullaby take a few potshots from the crags, wantonly slaughtering a few more indigenous types. These are our heroes, which of course we can tell by the fairness of their skin.
The expedition continues on, and soon splits up to look for water. The Mesquiteers, all three of ‘em, thus happen upon our two villains scheming away. We’ve already suspected Otah. The filthy, godless half-breed, however, turns out to be – randomness, you are my friend – Rutledge. So do our heroes plan to do anything about this? Nope. Unlike the Chans, where the random and uninspiring villain reveal marks the climax, here it’s just precursor to a lot of crazy action at the archeological ruins. This inspired Indy, remember.
When one ignores the wholesale vilification of a entire continent’s native peoples, Riders of the Whistling Skull is a fun, lithe little B-movie. An argument in its favor is the titular Whistling Skull, one of the earliest non-Kong examples of naturally-occurring rock formations somehow taking on the form of a human’s skull. (Though I once saw a boulder shaped like Ronald Reagan, so it’s not wholly unlikely.) The whistling itself, seemingly so benign is in fact the terrifying howl of the wind as it rips through Skull Canyon, the gateway to the lost city of Luckycharm.
Our would-be skull diggers must first face Rutledge’s skullduggery. At his half-bred request, the Indians open fire, corralling the archeologists and Mesquiteers deep into Skull Canyon. They are pinned down, and even denied a means of escape, as Rutledge has removed their climbing gear. Thus trapped midway up a mesa, there’s only one option left: explore Lucydesi.
It is a ruined cliff dwelling, filled up with all of Republic’s gold props – the sort of conquistador’s dream far out of proportion with regional reality. And just like Raiders of the Lost Ark after it, the catacombs are full of mummies! Mummy’s, just strewn about like yesterday’s clothing. And lo, one mummy comes to life; Stony shoots it dead. That was easy. Wow, from the plot synopsis on the Netflix sleeve, I fully expected more from these mummies. Then they discover a rotating secret passageway – and the awesome clichés keep on comin’! Inside is Betty’s father, Professor Marsh, who’s survived this whole time on delicious gold and mummy jerky.
Now it’s just a matter of all escaping from Luchacaliente while evading Rutledge’s full-bred hordes. Here’s where the movie really kicks into gear. Stony employs a rope (made from mummy hemp) to shimmy straight out of the giant skull’s eyeball towards the canyon floor. Meanwhile, Tucson gets into a scrape with Otah on the cliffs, who wishes to cut Stony’s rope. It’s legitimately exciting! There’s a reason the term “cliffhanger” came from movies like this.
But both white men end up safe…for now. Stony is no sooner at the mesa’s feet than he is taken prisoner by Rutledge. Tucson can do little to help, as he is busy fleeing several more henchmen on foot – a chase all about the beautiful desert geography, which rather echoes something out of Buster Keaton (for its stunt work, though not tone). Boiling this sequence down to its essence, Stony is about to be sacrificed, Tucson is running, and Lullaby engages Rutledge in a shootout from within the skull. Tucson continues his Buster Keaton homage, as he rescues Stony with an avalanche inspired by Seven Chances. This crushes all the Indians, and affords our heroes their customary mass slaughter victory.
I have to give credit to Raiders – excuse me, Riders of the Lost Ark – er, Whistling Skull! It is not simply another plugged-in formula piece as I expected from this franchise. The settings are different, the script distinct, and all the action directly tied in to that script. And that action is at all times coherent, cogent and creative. It wouldn’t wow anyone nowadays, but it stands as a testament as the best the 30s could offer. Stylistically, it too predates Indiana Jones. From a modern perspective, this is the most interesting thing about Riders of the Whistling Skull – it’s the sort of forgotten pulp entertainment that a reference-heavy pulp entertainment update (Indy) was heavily indebted to.
Related posts:
• No. 1 The Three Mesquiteers (1936)
• No. 3 Roarin’ Lead (1936)
• No. 5 Hit the Saddle (1937)
• No. 6 Gunsmoke Ranch (1937)
• No. 7 Come On, Cowboys! (1937)
• No. 8 Range Defenders (1937)
• No. 9 Heart of the Rockies (1937)
• No. 10 The Trigger Trio (1937)
• No. 13 Call of the Mesquiteers (1938)
• No. 14 Outlaws of Sonora (1938)
• No. 19 Santa Fe Stampede (1938)
• Nos. 29 – 38 (1940 – 1941)
• No. 35 Prairie Pioneers (1941)
• Nos. 39 – 51 (1941 – 1943)
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