This is a gripping Western of Shakespearean proportions. Randolph Scott gives a solid performance as a man conflicted with his surroundings and his internal struggle. The cinematography here is astounding and Lang paints a passionate and sometimes comic vision of the American frontier and the struggles of putting up a telegraph line.
If you don't love this movie, presumably you don't give a shit about mise en scène. I mean: wow! What colour! What geometry! Behold the human ant colony! This extremely broad Technicolor Zane Grey adaptation gives me more pleasure the e'er has the company of any human person or persons. It is kind of de facto racist, natch. But some Indian chiefs are played by Indian chiefs, and the Sioux are mightily sympathetic.
The second of Lang's three American Westerns, about the connecting of telegraph wires to the west, and the nominal complications that arise. Not as sprawling as John Ford's similar themed "The Iron Horse", but Fritz Lang was still enough of a big name at the time to warrant some pretty spectacular outdoor location photography.