Hollywood Storm has given Gunfight at Rio Bravo a sprawling sequel, Taken from Rio Bravo, directed by Joe Cornet and scripted by Craig Hamann, from a story he fashioned with producer, Alexander Nevsky. As with Gunfight at Rio Bravo, Taken from Rio Bravo was inspired by the exploits of a historic hero, Ivan Turchaninov, aka John Basil Turchin, a Russian crusader and Union general in the Civil War, who Nevsky portrays.
For this formidable follow-up, a group of unsuspecting women, Cynthia Rothrock's Margaret, Irina Atonenko's Valerie and Kerry Goodwin's Jenny, are assaulted by a posse, prompted by James Chalke's sadistic Jack Watuku, a "part Comanche, part Kiowa ... part demon," skin-peddler who captures women for those heartless enough to own and abuse them.
Though Margaret puts up a spirited fight, she's cut down, leaving Valerie and Jenny abducted by the outlaws. Naturally, Turchin is hellbent on rescuing the ladies, as is Cornet's Sheriff Vernon Kelly, who has hopes of settling down with his endearing Jenny.
As the miles mount, Turchin and Kelly's quest proves a steadfast but arduous one, where they meet up with other weathered souls, including Don "The Dragon" Wilson's conscientious, Indian scout, Angel, and Tatiana Neva's enigmatic bounty hunter, Ellen Teal, but it's the evil Watuku who draws the men toward their fate at the Mexican border.
During the story's interludes, the distraught women, who are accompanied by Maria Paris' Angela, Madelyn Allen's Emily and Jon Mack's Diana, do their best to secure their sanity, but Watuku and his callous henchman, Cliff Owens' Haskell, establish a tyranny to turn one's blood cold. The conundrum only worsens when Watuku allows Sam Dobbin's seedy businessman, Wesley Garrett, to purchase the females. (Incidentally, it should be noted that Paris' role is, indeed, different from the one she plays in the previous chapter, but she does a wonderful job forging the distinction. Role multiplicity is a tradition in western-movie sagas, and I, for one, admire the artful dynamic when it's achieved: a sign of a well-seasoned thespian, if ever there was.)
As the plot comes together, a showdown appears inevitable, but that inevitability also inserts an unsettling snag, as an old adversary, Matthias Hues' Hellhound leader, Ethan Crawley, re-enters the scene, complicating the situation in a way that neither Turchin or Kelly anticipated.
Though Taken from Rio Brava is action-packed (a huge plus for this genre), it's also contemplative, as evidenced by a scene where Turchin and Kelly recall their harsh, Civil War assignments and woeful aftermaths. The same can be said of Angel's recollection on how Watuku's men assailed his family and murdered his wife. Even an early scene, where Robert Madrid's Doc Adams questions his ability to protect the town when Turchin and Kelly are away, resonates with an empathetic earnestness that lesser movies would bypass. (In an interesting but effective contrast, John Fallon's Samuel, the town undertaker, offers a nice dose of garrulous levity.)
Taken from Rio Bravo also benefits from Sean Murray's crackling, Alex North-flavored score (augmented by Tatiana Neva's haunting, recurrent vocals) and Sam Wilkerson's sharp, consuming photography. Fight choreographer Art Camancho, who plays a brief but potent character, also deserves credit for making the movie's melees mean and credible.
The bottom line: This is a terrific sequel, one that demands more acts, and why not? These characters are much too nuanced and way too valiant not to carry on.
(Taken from Rio Bravo can be experienced at select cinemas and on Xumo Play.)
