There is just so much movie here. For some it may be too much. But in the same secretly sarcastic way most telemarketers say the phrase, the title of this one is particularly apt.

The movie is wonderful and true, an act of love in all its contradictions and complexity

The acting is good, and the firecracker script has some excellent ideas.

It is both painfully honest and laugh-out-loud funny at the same time.

Copyright 15 May 1947 by Hall Wallis Productions, Inc. Released through Paramount Pictures Inc. New York opening at the Paramount: 24 September 1947. U.S. release: 15 August 1947. U.K. release: November 1947. Australian release: 27 November 1947. 8,656 feet. 96 minutes.SYNOPSIS: Girl falls for out-of-town gambler with murky past.NOTES: Film debut of Wendell Corey. Also Lizabeth Scott's first color film. Shooting time: 72 days. Locations: Sedona (northern Arizona); Navajo Reservation (north of Flagstaff); and the small mining settlements of Cottonwood and Clarkdale.COMMENT: An odd film - but not without interest. The basic plot is typical soapie fare which allows an ultra-glamorous heroine to emote against richly glossy interiors and spectacular mountain locations. Unashamedly, it's a Lizabeth Scott vehicle. Stunningly made up and costumed, she receives more close-ups than anyone else in the cast, and if she fails to give more than a superficial earnestness to her characterization, who will notice?Enveloped in all the trappings of Hollywood expertise at its most pointedly glamorous, Desert Fury pre-dates Ross Hunter's Universal veneers - and easily outclasses them in sophistication and style. Lang's atmospheric photography, Rozsa's haunting music, Perry Ferguson's sets, Edith Head's costumes skittle the Universal talent. Admittedly Lewis Allen's direction is no more than ordinarily competent (which places him only marginally ahead of Douglas Sirk), but this one has a script by Robert Rossen no less and a strong support cast including Wendell Corey making a memorable debut as the vicious man-behind ("Eddie Bendix? I'm Eddie Bendix. I've been Eddie Bendix all these years. Why don't women fall in love with me?")John Hodiak is effective as the hollow Bendix, while Mary Astor displays an appropriately dominating manner as a strong-willed "operator".Burt Lancaster has a rather thankless role as the "other man". He has stated that his part was built up at Wallis' insistence - which we can well believe - and it's certainly true that he handles himself with his usual assurance. (The rest of the players, including Kristine Miller who is rather prominently billed, and silent star Jane Novak, have strictly minor roles.)All in all, Desert Fury is so attractive to look at - and the music so spellbinding to listen to - it doesn't much matter that the script has a great deal of furious talk but (aside from the climactic chase in which everything is magically put right) little furious action.

a film about passion. in different aspects and nuances and forms. few great performances - Mary Astor and Burt Lancaster first-. the atmosphere of small town from desert. the geography of bad guy life, weakness and use of people. and the quiet Charming Prince. this is all. at the first sigh. because the most fascinating ingredient is the not so ambiguous relationship between the characters of Wendell Corey and John Hodiak.something missing. the censorship, the scandal, the stones of conservative public. and, maybe, the cause could be the chemistry between Eddie and Johnny, too realistic for our time in same measure, who saves the film. because all is well known. except the extravagant triangle who , to the end, becomes so clear, after few clues. but this is only the op of the mixture of liaisons of love, passion and desires.the love for her daughter of Fritzie, the affection for Paula of the Tom Hanson, the classic fascination of freedom and fake love story are, in same measure important. sure, Desert Fury is far to be the best film of genre. but it remains special. for the strange form of courage/unconscious of its director.

You Tube is a great place to watch all these old movies. But as I wrote as my "Summary" (1947--2010) too many years have gone by and no matter how much we like the interpreters..., something has to give. Now we see too many downfalls that at the time (maybe) people weren't aware of.For example: Lizabeth Scott, as lovely and personal as she was (her voice was as attractive in its whispering as Ava Gardner's) was a wrong choice to play the daughter of Mary Astor (excelent, beautiful, very talented actress) since the age difference was minimal, most of the time unnoticeable. But..., since at the time Scott was the producer's... friend, there was no other choice!! John Hodiak was in no way presentable on his bare chest, at least now that we have become accustomed to gym exercised torsos. Burt Lancaster set of hair was so gorgeous that every time he appeared I, at least, lost track of what they were saying. Lizabeth Scott hair was also a miracle, product of Hollywood hairstylists: Fabulous. Something that drove me mad was that oval window in Scott's bedroom... Have you ever seen anything so outrageously artificial outside of an amateurish theatrical production?? Censure at the time was so frightful that most of the dialog is highly hilarious, trying to say without saying what was going on between Mr. Hodiak and Mr. Corey's characters (they were lovers).The final resolution of the story is so abrupt that one could think Scott's character was an alien without human sentiments. All of a sudden she falls in love with the remaining man, because obviously she was "a good girl" after all. Silly movie. The most enjoyable thing: That extraordinary "Town and Country" convertible she was driving all the time. Magnificent car.

Back in the forties, when movies touched on matters not yet admissible in "polite" society, they resorted to codes which supposedly floated over the heads of most of the audience while alerting those in the know to just what was up. Probably no film of the decade was so freighted with innuendo as the oddly obscure Desert Fury, set in a small gambling oasis called Chuckawalla somewhere in the California desert. Proprietress of the Purple Sage saloon and casino is the astonishing Mary Astor, in slacks and sporting a cigarette holder; into town drives her handful-of-a-daughter, Lizabeth Scott, looking, in Technicolor, like 20-million bucks. But listen to the dialogue between them, which suggests an older Lesbian and her young, restless companion (one can only wonder if A.I. Bezzerides' original script made this relationship explicit). Even more blatant are John Hodiak as a gangster and Wendell Corey as his insanely jealous torpedo. Add Burt Lancaster as the town sheriff, stir, and sit back. Both Lancaster and (surprisingly) Hodiak fall for Scott. It seems, however, that Hodiak not only has a past with Astor, but had a wife who died under suspicious circumstances. The desert sun heats these ingredients up to a hard boil, with face-slappings aplenty and empurpled exchanges. Don't pass up this hothouse melodrama, chock full of creepily exotic blooms, if it comes your way; it's a remarkable movie.