The 1950s were a weird, crowded time for the American Western. You had massive, sweeping epics like The Searchers on one end and about a thousand cookie-cutter TV shows on the other. Sitting somewhere in the middle—gritty, sweaty, and surprisingly lean—is the 1956 film The Burning Hills. It isn't a masterpiece of high art. It isn't trying to redefine the soul of the frontier. Honestly? It's just a damn good chase movie.
If you’ve ever caught it on a Saturday afternoon broadcast, you probably remember the colors first. Warner Bros. shot this in WarnerColor and CinemaScope, making the desert look almost radioactive. It stars Tab Hunter and Natalie Wood, two of the biggest "pretty face" heartthrobs of the era. But don't let the studio-manufactured glamour fool you. Beneath the Technicolor tan and the perfectly coiffed hair, The Burning Hills is a surprisingly brutal story about a man being hunted through a landscape that wants him dead just as much as the outlaws do.
The Plot Nobody Remembers Correctly
Most people think every 50s Western is about a sheriff defending a town. This isn't that. The Burning Hills starts with a classic trope: Trace Jordan (played by Hunter) finds his brother murdered. The killers are henchmen for a local cattle baron named Joe Sutton. In most movies, Trace would spend the next ninety minutes slowly picking off the bad guys one by one in a series of fair fights.
Instead, he gets shot almost immediately.
He’s wounded, bleeding out, and forced to hide in the cracks of the earth. This is where the movie shifts from a revenge flick to a survival horror-Western. He stumbles upon Maria Colton, played by a very young Natalie Wood. Now, we have to address the elephant in the room. Wood plays a "Spanish-Mexican" girl, a casting choice that obviously wouldn't happen today. It’s a product of 1956 Hollywood. If you can look past the heavy-handed makeup, her character is actually the engine of the film. She isn't a damsel. She’s the one who knows the terrain, the one who does the digging, and the one who keeps Trace from becoming vulture food.
🔗 Read more: Donnalou Stevens Older Ladies: Why This Viral Anthem Still Hits Different
Why This Movie Felt Different
The director, Stuart Heisler, wasn't interested in the "White Hat vs. Black Hat" philosophy that dominated the early part of the decade. Heisler came from a background of film noir and gritty dramas (The Glass Key), and he brought that cynical edge to the desert.
The villains aren't just mustache-twirling caricatures. They are relentless. Ray Teal plays the lead tracker, and he brings a level of cold, calculated persistence that makes the chase feel claustrophobic despite being set in the wide-open wilderness. There is a specific pacing here that feels modern. You’ve got the heat. The lack of water. The constant, nagging threat of the "men behind."
- The Cinematography: Ted McCord was the director of photography. He didn't just point the camera at the mountains; he used the CinemaScope frame to show how small the humans were.
- The Source Material: It was based on a Louis L'Amour novel. That matters. L'Amour knew the West. He knew how a horse behaved when it was tired and how the wind sounded in a canyon.
- The Sound: There's a minimal score in the tensest moments, letting the crunch of gravel and the whistling wind do the heavy lifting.
Tab Hunter and the Stigma of the "Pretty Boy"
Tab Hunter was often dismissed by critics in the 50s. They saw him as a "Beefcake" star, someone put on screen to sell posters to teenagers. In The Burning Hills, he’s actually trying. He spends a large portion of the film looking genuinely haggard.
Is he John Wayne? No. But he brings a vulnerability to Trace Jordan that makes the stakes feel higher. When Wayne gets shot, you know he’s going to be fine because he’s John Wayne. When Hunter’s character is trapped in a cave with a fever, you actually wonder if the kid is going to make it. That vulnerability is the secret sauce of the film. It turns a standard Western into a suspense thriller.
💡 You might also like: Donna Summer Endless Summer Greatest Hits: What Most People Get Wrong
The L'Amour Connection
You can’t talk about The Burning Hills without talking about Louis L'Amour. By 1956, L'Amour was becoming a household name, but he hadn't yet reached the "King of the Western" status he would hold in the 70s and 80s. This film helped cement the L'Amour brand on screen.
L'Amour's stories were always about the "man on the rim of the world." He loved characters who were pushed to their absolute physical limits. The screenplay, written by Irving Wallace (who would later become a massive novelist himself), keeps most of that DNA intact. It respects the geography. In many Westerns, characters seem to teleport from a forest to a desert in one jump. Here, the geography is a character. You understand the distance. You feel the climb.
Comparing The Burning Hills to Its Peers
Look at what else came out in 1956. You had The Searchers, which is a psychological epic. You had Seven Men from Now, a lean Budd Boetticher masterpiece. The Burning Hills sits in a weird spot. It’s more colorful than the Boetticher films but more intimate than the Ford epics.
| Element | The Burning Hills | Typical 50s Western |
|---|---|---|
| Hero | Wounded, desperate, young | Stoic, invincible, middle-aged |
| Pace | Fast, chase-oriented | Slow-burn, town-focused |
| Visuals | Harsh, bright, neon-earth tones | Soft-focus, romanticized |
It doesn't have the philosophical depth of The Searchers, sure. But it has a grit that was rare for a "star vehicle." It’s a B-movie with an A-list budget and A-list faces. That combination creates a strange, compelling energy that keeps it watchable decades later.
📖 Related: Do You Believe in Love: The Song That Almost Ended Huey Lewis and the News
A Legacy in the Dust
Why does this movie keep popping up on TCM or in DVD bargain bins? Because it’s efficient. It’s 94 minutes long. It doesn't waste time on subplots about a local schoolmarm or a comedic sidekick. It starts with a death and ends with a confrontation.
The film also served as a major stepping stone for Natalie Wood. She was transitioning from child star to a serious lead actress. While the role is problematic by modern standards, her intensity is undeniable. She holds the screen better than Hunter does in several scenes, proving that even in a "man's genre," she was a force to be reckoned with.
How to Watch It Now
If you're going to dive into The Burning Hills, try to find a restored version. The WarnerColor process was notorious for fading over time, often turning old prints a muddy brown or a sickly pink. A clean, high-definition transfer brings back those searing oranges and deep blues that Heisler intended. It makes the heat feel real again.
- Look for the wide version. Do not watch a "Pan and Scan" 4:3 version. You lose half the tension if you can't see the horizon on both sides of the actors.
- Check the credits. Note the names in the supporting cast, like Claude Akins. These were the workhorses of the genre, and they are excellent here.
- Read the book. Louis L'Amour’s original novel provides even more grit that the Hays Code-era Hollywood couldn't quite put on screen.
Actionable Takeaway for Western Fans
Don't skip the "heartthrob Westerns" of the late 50s. While films like The Burning Hills were marketed to a younger audience, they often carried a cynical, post-war edge that feels surprisingly modern. To truly appreciate this film, watch it as a survival thriller rather than a traditional cowboy movie. Pay attention to the way the environment is used to create tension—the rocks, the lack of shade, and the sound of distant hoofbeats. This isn't just a story about a gunfight; it's a story about the sheer will to keep moving when everything is stacked against you.
For those interested in the evolution of the genre, pair this with a viewing of The Tall T (1957) to see how the "small-scale chase" Western reached its peak in the late fifties. You'll see the threads of influence that eventually led to the rugged, stripped-down styles of the 1960s revisionist Westerns.
Next Steps for the Viewer: Locate the Warner Archive collection release of the film. It contains the most color-accurate transfer available. After watching, compare the ending of the film to L'Amour's original text; the differences in how Trace handles the final confrontation offer a fascinating look at how 1950s studio mandates altered the "justice" seen on screen versus the "justice" of the pulp novels.