The Naked Dawn


Edgar G. Ulmer's The Naked Dawn is a pretty good B picture from 1955. Ulmer establishes his love triangle well and provides enough Mexican exotica to show off the Technicolor without edging into ridiculousness. While it is easy to oversell a film like this to the casual viewer, an aficionado can only marvel at what Ulmer could accomplish on a ten day shooting schedule.

The Naked Dawn's premise is fairly simple: an outlaw on the lam happens upon a simple farmer and his wife and soon ensnares them in his misdeeds. The wife, forced into an arranged marriage, is, before you can even say Black Jack Davy, quite eager to ride off with the outlaw. Arthur Kennedy seems an odd choice to play a Mexican outlaw, but, even with a dyed beard and hair, he is effective. Perhaps feeling liberated after playing second bananas and constipated villains, he gives a performance of great charm and gusto without a hint of the Frito Bandito. I've always felt that Kennedy was an underrated performer and can only marvel at his steady contributions to such fine films as The Lusty Men, The Man from Laramie, Rancho Notorious, Bend of the River, Cheyenne Autumn, etc. 

Betta St. John, who I vaguely remember from the turgid The Robe, is pretty good as the wife. Eugene Iglesias less so as the farmer. Ulmer uses a wonderful tracking shot in the first walk and talk between Kennedy and St. John and photographs her bare arms and shoulders to scintillating effect during their last tryst. A dance sequence in a cantina with the enticing Charlita perks up the film's midsection. No masterpiece, The Naked Dawn is a solid film from a director who achieved cult acclaim while working at the bottom of Hollywood's food chain. It would make a good double bill with Bunuel's Robinson Crusoe, another technicolor B shot in Mexico during the 1950s that was also scripted by a blacklisted writer. 

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