It’s amazing just how many old B-movies use the “Scooby Doo” plot. I swear, as of Haunted Ranch, every single 30s and 40s franchise I’ve made it through uses this idea. We all know how it goes, but again I must reiterate. Various tired and standard hauntings are occurring at…some place, and in a final “twist,” it is revealed as a hoax. Some do-badder has been scaring people away from the property, with the intent to himself discover the treasure that is surely hidden there.
There has to be a reason for this proliferation of ersatz hauntings, apart from sheer laziness. Just like the idiotic modern foofaraw about how “Harry Potter” would turn a generation into wiccans, so did conservative Depression Era audiences fear the very presence of the supernatural in their fiction. Hell, even Universal Horror often feints to the realm of the rational, seriously undercutting their stories at all times. So the “Scooby” twist allows a storyteller to wallow in ghostly goodness for the better part of a tale, only to dismiss it all at the end. It’s like the family friendly message so many dark comedies ultimately embrace.
And The Range Busters, as a B-western series, is even more astoundingly conservative than most media from its era. Hence, Haunted Ranch (which I pegged as a “Scooby” entry from the title alone), cannot even hold its wad and preserve the world-shattering “twist” until the end. No, mere moments after we’re informed of the existence of a haunted ranch (by means other than the title, that is), the bad guys are revealed. Indeed, there is supposed treasure on the old Reno Red ranch – bullion he stole from the Denver banks – and the villains are making generic ghost noises (that is, basically just playing the accordion) to scare off interlopers. This gives them the freedom to hunt for the treasure at their leisure. And, if big bad baddie Rance Austin (Glenn Strange, a horrible Frankenstein monster) is any indication, most of this time is spent in the saloon, repeatedly expositing about everything they’re doing.
Oh yeah, this plot is considered so confusing (for the dim-witted Range Buster target audience) that it needs to be re-explained every 8 minutes.
And since the “Scooby” twist is so spectacularly bungled, several more “plot twists” shall be thrown our way throughout the entry – none of ‘em ever work, which makes this a greatly stagnant affair.
In seemingly unrelated news, the Range Busters (John “Dusty” King, Davy Sharpe and Max “Alibi” Terhune, all playing same-named caricatures) learn that Uncle Abe, whoever that is (there’s a new circle of friends and family in each entry), has perished. Due to a pure sense of plotdar on Dusty’s part, the trio rides to oversee the settling of the estate.
This leads them, randomly, into a shootout between Rance’s thugs and some other man. The other man, who is mortally wounded, is Hank Travis, one of Abe’s survivors. So Rance is after Abe’s Triangle Ranch as well, meaning – say it with me, folks – Abe and Reno Red were the same person! It’s so obvious, I don’t even know why they try to subterfuge the audience with it, only…the Range Busters won’t figure this out until 75% through. And it’s played like a twist! Hmm, “Scooby” plot, misidentified ranch – The Range Busters aren’t quite doing the plot thing too well, are they?
Dusty continues on to the ranch, while Alibi is charged with going into the town set to dredge up whatever info he and his disgusting doll Elmer can find. Davy, meanwhile, is…Well, the duty he’s tasked with is rather mumbled and understated. When next we see him, Davy is going all Tonto Basin Outlaws and joining up with Theodore Roosevelt’s Rough Riders apropos of nothing (so long, racial equilibrium of…oh wait, I’m thinking of a Three Mesquiteers movie). This random, non sequitur scene has huge meaning for The Range Busters, which I’ll address later.
Over at the “Triangle W,” Dusty is confronted with the spoooooookiest non-Elmer things this franchise can throw at him – an organ which plays itself. Whoooooo! Oogity-boogity! (Actually, it’s just the accordion-playing droog in the basement, because organs and accordions sound exactly the same, apparently.)
And what would a 40s ghost movie be without racist comic relief? Such a thing wouldn’t exist! How do we know something’s “scary” if there isn’t an overwrought, terrified negro stereotype to holler and bug out all the time. Enter “colored boy” (their words) Snowflake, played by Fred “Snowflake” Toones. Oh dear God. And really, “Snowflake”? As Wikipedia puts it, he has a “high-pitched voice and childlike demeanor.” And he is one prolific actor, with roughly 200 films to his roster (most of ‘em uncredited, of course), four times more than the hated Stepin Fetchit. He usually plays a porter – oh yeah. And Snowflake’s first line of dialogue in Haunted Ranch? “Is yous a ghos’?” His second line? “Yassuh, I’s jus’ a jack-in-the-box. Haw haw haw!” Oy! It’s…it’s all so unfortunate.
There’s also the token love interest, Helen Weston (Julie Duncan), in a role so bland, Dusty just entirely plum forgot to romance her – though he does get to sing her his standard song, right in the dead center of all the hauntings: “Where the Prairie Hills Meet the Sky.” I tuned out during that segment.
But getting back to Snowflake: It’s a good thing he’s here, really, insensitivity or no, because it lets us know when something is supposed to be frightening. (It’s like Mantan Moreland, kinda.) That’s essential, because there is absolutely nothing in Haunted Ranch to be terrified of…
YAEIIARRRGHHH! Holy hell, it’s Elmer! And proving a broken clock is right twice a day (that “clock” being either Snowflake, or the film as a whole), Snowflake gets to say the sanest thing about Elmer that’s ever been uttered: “What kind of thing is that?!”
Now, Helen is Reno Red’s (excuse me, “Uncle Abe’s”) other inheritor, now that one guy is now dead. (That guy was called Hank, by the way, and Dusty is now pretending to be him in another standard 40s story type – “Three’s Company.”) In part of Red’s very strangely-phrased will, it states that she is to keep sought-after possession of the haunted ranch only if – she spends one night within its walls. Mwah hah HAH! [Lightning cracks!]…No, wait, I was kidding. Only if she learns how to play Red’s (er, Abe’s) favorite tune on his organ. Hmm, I wonder why the will stipulated that… Say it with me, everyone – The organ is hiding Red’s loot! (Thoughts drift to the wicked harpsichord in The Goonies.) Here’s another “twist” I pegged a full half hour before its reveal.
No matter, Helen (and Dusty) spend the better part of the storyline playing all sorts of public domain tunes on the organ – “Red River Valley,” “My Darling Clementine,” western tunes so obvious, I totally don’t even hear them when played. And Snowflake’s there, to leap like an asshole whenever a creak is heard, and to tell Helen every song is wrong. Because he was Red’s (Abe’s) former indentured you-know, but is also fully too “wantin’ fer not bein’ shif’less” to be of any help. Sweet Ford, why are this films so casually tactless?!
Meanwhile, along comes Alibi with a meta franchise shakeup of tremendous importance. See, Davy’s off with the Army now – In real life, Davy Sharpe was indeed with the U.S. Army Air Forces, ready to massacre Huns all over WWII Europe! In fact, he just up and left partway through Haunted Ranch, because here’s one actor who thinks national security is a tad sight more important than a contract with Monogram Pictures. (All this while Ray Corrigan, the man Sharpe had replaced, was pouting in a corner about wanting a bigger trailer.)
Everyone, meet our halfway Davy replacement, Rex Lease (Rex Lease – how ‘bout that Range Buster namin’ policy?). (Lease is the white blur on the right of the image above.) And amongst all the Range Busters, Lease is surely the most inconsequential – he has a whole half-entry to his credit, that half-entry being this very wreck. Naturally, he’s wantin’ for a personality, and is mostly relegated to being “like Dusty, but ‘thout the singin’.” But we gotta have three leads to call this a “trigger trio” (that faux-Mesquiteer subgenre of the B-western), so welcome onboard, Rex.
Okay, so where were we? Well, the “haunted” ranch is pretty danged crowded now, so Rance decides to cease expositing the storyline to his droogies and do something about it. He heads out, and has the sheriff arrest Dusty – who’s still pretending as Hank, a wanted man. This course of action makes ultimately little logical sense, even by the villains in this franchise. Rance waits until the sheriff has Dusty away in a cell, then tries to murder him (the sheriff). The only reason for this is an excuse for a shootout – Alibi and…Rex come to the rescue. Dusty is freed, but Rance escapes. So…that accomplished nothing, except…now the Range Busters know who the bad guy is. Meaning, some 75% through, they also know there is a bad guy. (We’re nearing the end of the franchise, which is when such inexplicable oversights become common.)
There’s little else for the film to do, except to explain out the plot twists I solved some several paragraphs prior – this is even done by Rance’s anonymous henchmen, not the Range Busters. Way to be useless, Dusty and Alibi and other guy! So it’s they who discover that Red’s organ has strange knobs on it (ewww!). Of course no more than one sane thought is every permitted per individual in these films, so they’re no closer to making Red’s organ spill forth its golden treasure (ewww!).
Soon enough the whole cast has reconvened in front of the organ (which occupies the lower quarter of the screen for about 49.43% of this film). It’s basically a replay of the showdown between Range Busters and Rance from before, only now with more face-punching. And in such matters, the Range Busters never lose. So they win.
And Snowflake, surprisingly enough, solves the grand mystery of identifying Red’s favorite song. It was “Little Brown Jug.” Okay, everyone, show’s over!
It’s kinda buried in the middle, but undoubtedly the most interesting thing about Haunted Ranch is that is does the traditional actor shakeup in the middle of the movie. This was, of course, in response to Sharpe’s sudden surge of patriotic usefulness. It must’ve been catching, because this also marks John “Dusty” King’s final Range Busters role. He would join Sharpe overseas, where both men would shoot Nazis and bang Frenchwomen.
Only Max “Alibi” Terhune would remain with the series, not out of some unpatriotic fervor, but because he almost certainly would qualify for 4-F. This fat, puppet-obsessed lunatic was deemed unfit for battle. So the poor weirdo would serve out the rest of his days with The Range Busters. Still, a full two other men were needed to round out the trio, and keep this from being The Creepy Ventriloquist Rapist Show. Tomorrow we’ll round out the final four Range Busters films, and see just who these two un-Americans are…
Related posts:
• No. 4 Trail of the Silver Spurs (1941)
• No. 8 Fugitive Valley (1941)
• No. 9 Saddle Mountain Roundup (1941)
• No. 10 Tonto Basic Outlaws (1941)
• No. 11 Underground Rustlers (1941)
• No. 13 Rock River Renegades (1942)
• No. 16 Arizona Stagecoach (1942)
• No. 17 Texas to Bataan (1942)
• No. 18 Trail Riders (1942)
• No. 24 Bullets and Saddles (1943)
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