From its inception in the '30s and through the '50s, Monogram Pictures was on a mission to give audiences as much bang as the studio's sparsely-budgeted output could allow. Sure, you'd have a good chance of seeing the same actors hanging around familiar sets and working off of similar scripts multiple times per year, but in some cases, that was all a part of the charm. While certain productions were hindered by their cheapness, others had no trouble maintaining their endearing sides; even though you knew what you were in for, you looked forward to Charlie Chan solving mysteries and the Bowery Boys landing in assorted shenanigans. The affection viewers have for the studio's pictures applies especially to its westerns, nine of which the Warner Archive bunch has roped into the fourth volume of their Monogram Cowboy Collection. Split up between the rough-and-tumble Johnny Mack Brown and well-known warbler Jimmy Wakely, the movies in this set are all but guaranteed to tingle the nostalgia senses of long-time western buffs.

BLAZING BULLETS (1951). A marshal (Brown) comes to the air of a cowhand (House Peters Jr.) accused of stealing gold and kidnapping. Blazing Bullets is a passable film, but what efforts it does make to ratchet up the tension or turn the story into more than your basic, A-to-B rodeo fall resoundingly flat. The movie makes a big deal out of whether or not Peters' character shanghaiied his potential father-in-law and the true identity of the thieving mastermind being some huge secret, but none of this ever feels very important. At a mere 51 minutes, the movie seems more concerned with getting itself over with, rather than with taking the time to play up any of the promising angles that might have improved the narrative's sense of urgency and made it a little less obvious. Blazing Bullets skimps not on the firepower its title promises, but good luck being invested in who's getting shot at and who's pulling the trigger.

COLORADO AMBUSH (1951). Brown saddles up and rides off in hot pursuit of the bandits responsible for gunning down Wells Fargo couriers. With a streak just a bit darker than that of its Monogram comrades, Colorado Ambush makes a stronger impression than it otherwise might have, had it opted to go about its business in a more innocuous fashion. Much of this has to do with the tragic directions the story takes, which -- while not promoted that aggressively -- instill the proceedings with a nail-biting edge it could've easily ignored. It ends up making a world of difference, for as we watch all these multiple parties scheming behind each others' backs, we're not so sure that Brown can put an end to everything with just a wink and a six-gun. Tight, taut, and tenacious in tone, Colorado Ambush proves itself to be one riveting ride.

LAND OF THE OUTLAWS (1944). Two marshals (Brown and Raymond Hatton) head undercover to bring down a gang that seeks control of a gold mine. From its generic plot to its equally ho-hum title, almost everything about Land of the Outlaws makes you wonder if you haven't seen it already, even if you're doing so for the first time. Brown cozies up to the villains with his standard incognito act, Hatton's Sandy Hopkins lends an assist (with a dash of comic relief), and outside of talking all day about the evil stuff they're up to, the bad guys don't have a whole lot to do. The film isn't totally charmless, but it's also not terribly fresh; it does the same stuff that a zillion other westerns have, just in a slightly more peppy manner than usual. Though it's diverting enough while it lasts, Land of the Outlaws will gallop out of your thoughts the second it's over.

MONTANA DESPERADO (1951). A cowpoke (Brown) returns home and fends off a masked gunman killing tenants on his ranch. Even something as simple as having Brown play a drifter looking out for his own interests rather than carrying out the government's bidding goes a long way to make Montana Desperado a more exciting enterprise than many of his other credits. Of course, he's still the noble hombre we know and love, but the fact that his character here is just some guy and not a lawman going up against an assassin is an interesting enough angle to grab your interest, as is the harsher edge that said villain brings with his body count. Unfortunately, the whodunit angle the movie leans so heavily on is pretty weak (one look at the eyes, and you'll instantly know who the killer is), and by the end, much of the suspenseful build-up has been blown by a dull cat-and-mouse chase in the climax. All in all, Montana Desperado gets off to a solid start, but don't be surprised if your expectations quickly end up six feet under in Boot Hill.

MOON OVER MONTANA (1946). Two ranchers (Wakely and Lee "Lasses" White) try to foil a rival (Stanley Blystone) who wants a monopoly on the local cattle trade. Moon Over Montana could've easily grown tiresome with its characters playing tug-of-war over the fates of cows for just under an hour's length, but a bit of romance and a few nice tunes do just the trick in supplying the film's step with some pep. As Wakely contends with his foe, he and the fetching owner of a railroad line (Jennifer Holt) indulge a feisty, Moonlighting Goes West-style courtship. And, of course, he's always up for a song or two -- or a dozen, as our hero is even more apt to break out his six-string as he is to unleash his six-shooter. Even though you'll have a pretty firm grasp on the directions Moon Over Montana will take, the laughs, the danger, and the campfire ballads it's packed for the ride do fine jobs of keeping you occupied.

RAINBOW OVER THE ROCKIES (1947). A young cowpuncher (Wakely) tries to stop a range war from igniting between his uncle (Budd Buster) and some old family friends. Rainbow Over the Rockies succeeds in creating the most boring scenarios possible out of a premise rife with clashes and confrontations. Perhaps it might have avoided a big chunk of its tedium, had not its characters locked horns so often and issued too many "This is the last time..." ultimatums to be taken seriously. There's no satisfaction to be felt whenever one party outwits another or gets closer to sniffing out the real baddies, and while Wakely remains as affable of a sport as ever, even he can't croon the flick he's in toward some legit excitement. Rainbow Over the Rockies doesn't last long, but it makes sure you feel every one of its minutes leisurely trot on by.

SIX-GUN SERENADE (1947). A trail-blazing troubador (Wakely) teams up with a comely ranch owner (Kay Morley) to stop an outlaw gang from ruining her business. Just as the title suggests, Six-Gun Serenade doles out thrills and musical interludes with equal dependability. Whether Wakely is helping Morely chase off the no-good finks gunning for her or irritating the sheriff with his band, the film almost always has something entertaining happening on screen. Plus, we get the benefit of two antagonists who are at odds on how to handle our heroes; Morely's evil foreman (Jimmie Martin) favors a violent approach, while the town banker (Steve Clark) manipulates the legal system to hurt them. It's a nicely-executed twist that serves as an example of how well Six-Gun Serenade keeps viewers on the edges of their seats, while making them tap their toes at the same time.

SPRINGTIME IN TEXAS (1945). Three ranchers (Wakely, Dennis Moore, and Lee "Lasses" White) band together to rid a small town of the corrupt officials running it. If gunslingers laying down their arms in order to assist an election campaign doesn't sound like your idea of a rip-roaring adventure, Springtime in Texas won't do much to change your mind. The movie's spirits are high, and there is plenty of gunplay for fans to enjoy, but the scheming and whimpering politicians Wakely faces here are among the most ineffectual villains he's ever faced. It's almost a joke to see him so easily topple these guys, ending the story on an extremely anticlimactic note and robbing its "ticking clock" element of any power it might hope to wield. Springtime in Texas has a good heart and a smile on its mug, but it's going to take a lot more than the best intentions to get audiences cheering.

TEXAS CITY (1952). A marshal (Brown) sets out after gold thieves who've taken shelter in a ghost town. Texas City is a kind of clash of the western titans, as Brown shares the screen with fellow genre star Jimmie Ellison (The Plainsman). The latter plays a disgraced army man who's embedding himself with the villains, and while the story tries to keep his true allegiances a mystery, you're pretty sure where they'll end up from the word go. Still, with our heroes clueless as to where the bad guys are hiding out and an unknown mastermind pulling the strings from behind the scenes, the movie dishes out enough suspense for it to get by (although not so much as to distract us from its even more frugal than usual production values). Texas City is as simple as they come, but it does its job without running into any particularly troublesome issues along the way.

(Monogram Cowboy Collection: Volume 4 is available from the Warner Archive Collection.)