King of the Pecos: A Cowboy Fika

Alright, so let’s talk King of the Pecos, that old 1936 John Wayne western flick. Directed by Joseph Kane – who’s practically a synonym for “three films before weekend’s over” – this one’s real bread and butter for a cozy svenska movie night, especially when the weather outside looks like November in Skåne. Not gonna sugarcoat it, I actually watched this for the first time at farmor’s, sometime around ’94, with my uncle trying to impress us with talk about “real Americana”. Can’t say it worked, but the film stuck with me.

Young John Wayne, back before he turned into the Monument Valley himself. It’s him vs. Cy Kendall’s land-grabbing villain, a classic setup that never gets old – but yeah, I’m not sure the melodrama hits like it used to. Wayne plays it earnest and sharp, his voice not yet that gravelly drawl. The action’s a bit slow sometimes, but the shootout by the river has real punch. There’s something charming about watching cowboys get sorted out not by fancy gadgets but wits and old boots. Reminds me of childhood days roping sticks outside in Göteborg, yelling after passing neighbors like we were on the prairie.

The supporting cast? Kinda forgettable, honestly. Muriel Evans in the “obligatory worried sweetheart” role. And yet, somehow, the whole thing feels warmer than the sum of its clichés. It’s got this simple justice thing going on – make your own law if the lawman’s bought out. Maybe that’s why my dad, a real vän av lagom, got so worked up when Wayne went vigilante.

If you’re used to noisy blockbusters like we have these days, King of the Pecos can feel slow. Still, pour up some bryggkaffe, let the black-and-white wash over you, and try to imagin the dust in your nose, the sun on your hat. Sure, it’s old, but sometimes a crusty western is just what you need after too much fancy filmprat.

watch the full movie on Mavshack Movies on YouTube

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