Leggy Betty Grable is saloon singer “Freddie” Jones and the beautiful blonde of the title.
She’s as adept with a six-shooter as she is at turning men’s heads, but both skills land her in trouble.
When she misses her mark, her bullets somehow always find the rear end of Bashful Bend’s honorable Judge O’Toole.
After one drilling too many, O’Toole puts a price on Freddie’s head.
So she flees to Snake City, poses as a missing school teacher named Hilda Swandumper and flirts with gold mine owner Charles Hingleman (Rudy Vallee) until her sharp shooting gives away her real identity.
Cesar Romero plays Blackie, the handsome galoot who keeps making “Freddie” jealous and follows her to Snake City, threatening to reveal her real identity if she doesn’t leave with him.
A playful farce that seems so downright silly at times and the comedy so forced that it’s a waste of time. The Basserman boys, in particular, are annoying in their supposedly comic routines.
The film was horribly received when it was released in 1949 with the promo tagline: “She had the biggest Six Shooters in the West.” There are a couple of delightful moments, like the opening when grandpa is teaching young “Freddie” how to use a six-shooter when all she wants to do it play with dolls.
Another saving grace: A delightful performance by Olga San Juan in one of her last films. When Freddie flees to Snake City, her fellow dancer Conchita is forced to assume the identity of Freddie’s Indian maid, much to her dismay. Olga was married to actor Edmond O’Brien.
Directed by:
Preston Sturges
Cast:
Betty Grable … “Freddie” Jones
Cesar Romero … Blackie
Rudy Vallee … Charles Hingleman
Olga San Juan … Conchita
Porter Hall … Judge O’Toole
Hugh Herbert … Doctor
Al Bridge … Sheriff
El Brendel … Mr. Jorgensen
Sterling Holloway … Basserman brother
Dan Jackson … Basserman brother
Emory Parnell … Mr. Hingleman
Pati Behrs … Roulette
Runtime: 77 min.
Title tune: The Beautiful Blonde of Bashful Bend
Memorable lines:
“Freddie” Jones, of a judge she’s accused of shooting: “Maybe he doesn’t remember my name, Ambrose. Maybe he forgot it in the excitement.”
Ambrose: “Remember your name? In letters of fire, he remembers your name. In letters of fire nine feet high.”
“Freddie” Jones: “You like to drink in class, huh?”
Brother #1: “What’s the difference?”
“Freddie”: “Suppose I told you I didn’t like it.”
Brother #2: “Other teachers told us they didn’t like it, too.”
“Freddie,” loading her gun: “But you didn’t care what the other teachers said?”
Brother #1: “That’s right.”
“Freddie”: “You’re going to care what this teacher says.”
Brother #2: “Is that so?”
“Freddie”: “Or this little teacher is going to blow your little head off.”
Blackie: “What I can’t figure is how you’re getting by as the mighty school marm. You can’t spell cat.”
“Freddie” Jones: “I can spell louse.”
“Freddie” Jones, wondering about Blackie’s interest in the reward on her head: “You’d sell your grandmother for $40.”
Blackie: “That’s an entirely different matter. She’s very old and not at all well preserved. You, on the other hand, are the roundest, daintiest, the most fragrant and the most irresistible little whisk that ever flew out of a cage … even though you have the mind of a child of 3 and the disposition of a tarantula.”