Back in the golden age of Hollywood, studios had a reputation for making certain kinds of films. Universal was the house of horror, MGM was the master of musicals, and way over on Poverty Row, Monogram Pictures cranked out westerns like no one's business. Alongside the latter-day Charlie Chan mysteries and long-running Bowery Boys comedies, these economically-budgeted prairie tales were part of the studio's bread and butter. Other production houses of the time had their fair share of quickie westerns (like RKO's expansive Tim Holt catalogue), but Monogram's output was a nearly constant flow that few could rival. Genre fans hoping to dig in might be at a loss as to where to start, but the Warner Archive crew is here to help with the first installment of the Monogram Cowboy Collection, a sampling of nine vintage adventures to entertain the little bronco-buster in all of us.

CAVALRY SCOUT (1951). The Monster and the Girl's Rod Cameron plays a civilian in Uncle Sam's employ, tasked with tracking down stolen gatling guns in Indian territory. Cavalry Scout was something of a prestige production for Monogram, what with a running time increased to nearly eighty minutes, historical figures taking part in the story, and the whole thing having been filmed in actual color. The movie itself, however, is a bit of a yawner, as a basic plot that could've been pounded out in a nice and solid hour's length gets prolonged with saddlebags full of padding. The picture (directed by veteran western filmmaker Lesley Selander) isn't bad; it's just especially unmemorable, with not even its heroes or bad guys making a very stirring impression. While presented with a touch more polish, Cavalry Scout doesn't exude any more or less charm than its low-budget brethren.

COWBOY CAVALIER (1948). Prairie balladeer Jimmy Wakely takes on the role of a stage line foreman trying to stop a varmint from blackmailing his boss. With a song in its heart and a six-gun by its side, Cowboy Cavalier offers up some by-the-books but innocuous western entertainment. Although he hasn't the look of a particularly tough hombre, Wakely handles himself well in a scuffle and can carry a tune like the finest singing cowpokes. But the plot does get a bit mundane, mostly focusing on stagecoach robberies but burying a side story about a stolen gold mine claim and never fully explaining what Douglas Evans' villain has against Wakely's superior. There isn't much to Cowboy Cavalier that you haven't seen already, but what's there is fun enough to kill just short of sixty minutes.

GUN LAW JUSTICE (1949). An ex-con (Lee Phelps) finds himself being courted by a gang of bandits that wants him back in the criminal racket. In spite of a embarrassingly generic title, Gun Law Justice turns out to be a rather engaging western quickie. Oddly enough, while Jimmy Wakely gets top billing and brings along Dub Taylor as his faithful second banana Cannonball, he's not the center of attention here. That honor belongs to Phelps, who turns in a fine performance as a former gunslinger attempting to go straight and convince his desperado son (John James) to do the same. You might even say that Gun Law Justice could have gotten along just fine without Wakely, but it's a fun time spent in the genre saddle all the same.

MAN FROM SONORA (1951). A former marshal (Johnny Mack Brown) searching for his stolen horse stumbles upon a scheme to take over a small town. Man from Sonora surprised me by both the curveballs it lobbed my way and how swiftly it did so. As our story begins, it's the usual business of dirty thieves holding up stage lines and whatnot, but increasing layers of mystery are revealed as things progress. It's a neat way to shake up the genre formula, as we're not even certain if the baddies or our heroes are who they say they are. Although Brown himself may be one of the paunchier protagonists to grace the prairies, Man from Sonora ends up as a more exciting vehicle than it promises on the surface.

OKLAHOMA BLUES (1948). When he's mistaken for a hired gun, a ballad-belting buckaroo (Jimmy Wakely) is asked to help protect a town from a ruthless gang of robbers. Though the film thought it was putting a different spin on a well-worn premise, the angle that Oklahoma Blues brings to the table only needlessly complicates itself rather than freshen things up. The mistaken identity gimmick doesn't really play into Wakely's crusade against the desperadoes du jour, and that it seems to exist solely to make Dub "Cannonball" Taylor's sidekick look even dumber is especially grating. Overall, though, the flick comes across like business as usual as far as westerns go, with Wakely having a fun time singing songs and socking jaws as the so-called "Melody Kid." Oklahoma Blues has its issues, but there's nothing that won't hinder the experience too much for genre aficionados.

OKLAHOMA JUSTICE (1951). Johnny Mack Brown rides undercover as an outlaw, hoping to find out just who's behind a rash of recent stick-ups. From the moment we see Brown absconding with a bank's dough in his first scene, Oklahoma Justice rarely finds itself without something that grabs our attention. Brown's true colors are pretty obvious from the start, but his hunt for the thieves -- who, unbeknownst to him, are commanded by a little old lady (Barbara Allen) -- is still fraught with plenty of peril. His folksy charm makes him an endearing hero, and although the climax meanders at times, the pace gallops along smoothly for the most part. Oklahoma Blues is a terrific little outing, a picture that packs just enough suspense to last its 56 minutes.

OUTLAW GOLD (1950). A group of thieves do everything they can to rub out the intrepid marshal (Johnny Mack Brown) who's on their trail. Directed by prolific B-movie maestro Wallace Fox (The Corpse Vanishes), Outlaw Gold ultimately becomes indiscernable from the scores of low-budget westerns he's helmed. There just isn't a whole lot of spark to be found here, as the plot simply goes through the motions and offers even less than usual in the way of surprises. A side story about a gunslinger for hire (Myron Healey) with shifty allegiances is cool, but the rest of the time is spent on showing Brown affably fend off assassins as he hunts the world's most stock baddies. Ending just past the 50-minute mark, Outlaw Gold is short even by Poverty Row standards, but it still frequently finds itself scrambling for ways to pad things out.

PARTNERS OF THE SUNSET (1948). Jimmy Wakely is forced to be fairy godfather to his boss's son (Jay Kirby), whose new wicked stepmother (Christine Larson) schemes to take control of his father's ranch. Partners of the Sunset offers a welcome reprieve from the exploits of cattle rustlers and stagecoach plunderers who frequently clog up the genre. The blazing guns and thundering hooves fans crave are still around, but they're in the service of a domestic drama with a few twists up its sleeve. Larson is great at playing Little Miss Sweet for everyone while plotting all manner of crimes behind their backs, and seeing Wakely put together the pieces in between guitar breaks actually racks a few nerves. Dub "Cannonball" Taylor even gets more to do here than just blunder his way through the place, so when the comic relief has a constructive part to play, you know that Partners of the Sunset is doing something right.

TEXAS LAWMEN (1951). A U.S. marshal (Johnny Mack Brown) investigates a sheriff's death, unaware that his successor (Jimmy Ellison) has ties to the gang that killed him. As with Gun Law Justice, Texas Lawmen overlooks the more interesting story at hand in favor of pushing Brown as our hero, but it comes through as a mostly entertaining ditty in the end. While Brown may be the star, Ellison's lawman appears the richer character, being the son of a vicious outlaw (Stanford Jolley) who takes pleasure in hanging his boy's criminal heritage over his head. The tension arising from these dysfunctional family matters feels convincing, and although this subplot could've benefitted from a touch more exposure, the cowboy capers that accompany it don't drown out its effectiveness too much. As hopelessly conventional as the plot can appear, Texas Lawmen shows itself to be a thrilling old romp more often than not.

(The Monogram Cowboy Collection: Vol. 1 is available to purchase through the Warner Archive Collection: http://www.warnerarchive.com)