It was curious to me that 'Willie Boy' came out the same year that "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" did. Redford looks so much younger here; it must have been the mustache as The Kid. Curiously, he had a similar scene here with Susan Clark as Sundance did with Katharine Ross, a kind of surprise bedroom attack that was used as misdirection before the true relationships became known.

Robert Blake does a convincing job as Willie Boy, on the run from the law with his 'captured wife' after killing her father in self defense. The film offers varying degrees of the racial divides and tensions between whites and Native Americans during turn of the century America. Sheriff Chris Cooper (Redford) treads that line carefully, as he knows he must bring Willie Boy to justice, but is keenly aware that it wouldn't take much for his search party to turn into a lynch mob. All the while, one wonders how the final confrontation might take place, knowing that Willie Boy is not the type to go down without a fight. The prelude to that showdown is perhaps even more of a shocker, as Willie's girl Lola commits the ultimate sacrifice so her man has a better chance of escaping.

I haven't seen Robert Blake in a lot of films besides this and "In Cold Blood", though I was a regular viewer of 'Baretta'. I liked that show, which had a reasonably authentic 'street' feel to it back in the Seventies. I often wondered why Blake never broke out to greater mainstream success until I saw him once on a late night talk show. His entire stint consisted of a rambling rant on government conspiracies and assorted complaints against authority, and he came across like a nut case. It's sad that he wound up at the center of his wife's murder mystery in recent years, a far cry from the once cute kid who graced the screen with the Little Rascals and as Red Ryder's sidekick.

After a couple of decades on the blacklist Abraham Polonsky returned to mainstream cinema with a Romeo&Juliet type story. The Mojave Desert don't look a lot like medieval Verona, Italy but the story is the same.

The title role of Tell Them Willie Boy Is Here is played by Robert Blake who is a Paiute Indian kid who by their tradition kidnaps the women of his intentions Katherine Ross to make her his bride. It's their way of courtship, but when Ross's dad objects he's accidentally shot and killed by Blake.

Ironically with a good lawyer Blake might have gotten off. But Paiute Indians usually don't get good lawyers and they don't take to confinement. Still this incident might have gone unnoticed but for the fact that the sitting president of the USA in 1909 one William Howard Taft was visiting the area. That brings in the national media and blows up the story.

Robert Redford plays the sheriff charged with bringing in Blake dead or alive. He never played quite the roughneck character he does in this film than in any other work I can recall. Susan Clark plays the doctor on the Paiute reservation who has her views routinely ignored as she's mansplained on a regular basis. She also has her needs fulfilled by Redford as both are the best of what's out there in their corner of the world.

It's Blake and Ross who really capture your attention. I'm sure that William Shakespeare would have seen so readily the parallels between his timeless classic and what Blake and Ross are all about.

Conrad Hall's photography turns the harsh, hostile Mojave Desert into the kind of place in which some entrepreneur might build a high-end spa, or a "land developer" might set up a nice, gated community for retirees, with streets that have names like Happy Trail and No Problem Drive and Party Time Cove. Or, come to think of it, a nice strip mall with tony shops like Vuitton and Starbucks and Banana Republic would do nicely.

Sadly, that's what's been happening since the events described here took place in 1909. Dusty little towns like Banning and Lancaster are now sprawling environment engulfers but I digress.

Robert Blake is the Paiute Indian, Willie Boy, who kills the white father of his girl friend, Katherine Ross, and takes off with her into the desert, which Hall captures as a rather benign place with towering Washingtonian palms creating a shady oasis, the breeze whooshing gently through the fronds. There is an abundance of springs and other sources of water.

I guess I'm dwelling on the environment because it's just so damned pretty, while the people in the story are all kind of crass. Robert Redford is Sheriff Cooper ("Coop") who pursues Blake and Ross from one picturesque place to another. Redford's posse is made up of diverse types, as posses tend to be in such movies. One is a hardbitten old Indian killer, Barry Sullivan, who joins the posse because he "enjoys" it. It's just like the old days, fightin' the Comanche.

Redford himself is taciturn, sympathetic to Blake, and a reluctant hunter. But when Katherine Ross's body is found with a bullet through her heart, he's compelled to track down the worn-out horseless Blake and, finally, shoot him in an act of suicide by Sheriff.

This was directed by Abraham Polonsky, one of the famous blacklisted writers who returned from exile. Having been persecuted doesn't automatically turn you into a genius but in this case it's not badly done. Nice shots of Robert Blake running full tilt across the sand, rifle in hand, leaping creosote bushes as if they were hurdles on a college track.

Polonsky's loyalties are clear enough. "What did I do to them?" asks Blake, referring to the white folks. "What did any of us do?" Well, the Paiute were never particularly brutal, not like the Mojave Indians. They didn't have to be. There was enough water around the Colorado River that they could afford to be farmers rather than warriors. Ira Hayes, one of the heroes who raised the flag on Iwo Jima, was a member of the neighboring Pima tribe.

Polonsky, thank God, doesn't revel in White Guilt. The audience is made to feel sympathy with Blake and Ross, if only because these are two lovers on foot being chased by a horde of horsemen who don't understand them and don't want to understand. But that, and a few remarks here and there, are about as far as it goes. If you didn't know Polonsky had been blacklisted, you'd classify this as a more or less typical example of 1960s antinomian values. It's no more propagandistic than dozens of other films that came out of the same period.

And what it finally boils down to is an exciting and ultimately tragic chase movie. The covert message will be happily unnoticed by most younger viewers, and easily ignored by the more sophisticated. See Willie Boy run. See handsome Coop, the epitome of handsomeness, dodge bullets among the stucco-textured rocks. Look at the enthralling beauty of the natural landscape, free of giant tarantulas and mutated ants.