Reviewed by Colin Jacobson (July 30, 2026)
A big box office draw in his day, Randolph Scott primarily made his bones in Westerns. For one of these, we go to 1950’s Colt .45.
Traveling firearms salesman Steve Farrell (Scott) visits the town of Red Rock. There he tries to convince local sheriffs to buy the new repeating pistols called Colt .45s.
However, violent outlaw Jason Brett (Zachary Scott) steals the guns and launches a crime spree with them. Farrell proceeds to pursue Brett to retrieve the weapons and bring Brett to justice.
As I watched Colt .45, I couldn’t help but experience a sense of déjà vu. That happened because it shares a basic plot with another 1950 flicks: Winchester ‘73.
In both, a criminal makes off with a special firearm and winds up pursued by the owner. The two films’ protagonists come with different motives but darned if they don’t bring awfully similar stories at heart.
I’d accuse one flick of copycat status, but their respective release dates makes that close to impossible, as Colt .45 debuted a mere two months prior to Winchester ‘73. Perhaps the creators of one knew the story of the other and borrowed it pre-release, but I still must assume the two existed independent of each other.
I don’t think Winchester ‘73 quite reaches classic status, but it works very well. That leaves big shoes for the similar Colt .45 to fill.
Which it doesn’t. Colt .45 offers a wholly by-the-numbers Western without any depth or real creativity.
Colt .45 director Edward L. Marin never rose above the level of basic workmanlike filmmaker. This film displays no real skills beyond the general ability to craft a competent tale.
This means Colt .45 checks a lot of standard Western boxes but it fails to do anything interesting along the way. The story and characters proceed as anticipated and Marin lacks the ability to bring life to anything.
As our lead, Randolph Scott doesn’t provide us any real indication why he turned into a star. Very handsome as a younger man, the 52-year-old Scott seen here seems worn out and tired.
In a different movie, that could work to the narrative’s advantage. If Colt .45 presented Steve with some form of complexity as the aging gunslinger, Randolph Scott’s age could suit the tale.
Instead, Colt .45 presents Steve as a true-blue good guy without any depth or range. Randolph Scott plays the part as utterly uncomplicated and dull.
Though he overacts relentlessly, at least Zachary Scott’s wild-eyed turn adds some energy to this sluggish project. We also get a pre-fame Lloyd Bridges in a forgettable turn as one of Brett’s underlings.
Despite the uninventive nature of the story, more talented filmmakers could’ve done something with Colt .45. As it stands, the final product becomes a chore to watch.
