weeping vistas with icy mountains and dark evergreens that line azure waters introduce Matt Calder (Robert Mitchum) as he fells a tree. It’s a striking way to frame a hero and a serene American Northwest setting, considering that he soon journeys into a small trading post encampment of tents and wagons, where human items intrude upon the skyline and all sorts of noises and commotion suggest typical Western debauchery. Matt has a cabin nearby to grow wheat – contrasting the majority of people drawn to this particular territory, who are prospecting for gold – and he’s supposed to collect 9-year-old Mark (Tommy Rettig) from Illinois to help with his plot of land and to teach him how to hunt, fish, shoot, and farm. As it turns out, the youth is his son. “Don’t spill the beer, boy. It’s liquid gold!”

Inside the makeshift saloon is conspicuously done-up, platinum blonde singer Kay Weston (Marilyn Monroe, sporting a rare look of lengthy locks) – boasting flawless skin – who gets to strum a guitar and sing a tune for her introduction (and afterward, she gets a second song to reiterate her career). As luck would have it, she’s the one that helped little Mark as he waited for his father, allowing her to cross paths with the elder Calder. And they’re destined to see one another again, as trouble follows her, particularly in the form of her gambler husband Harry (Rory Calhoun), who has won a gold claim, perhaps questionably, and wishes to rush to Council City in order to file to make it official. “What could happen?”

As Matt demonstrates what a cinematically ideal parent he is, Harry remains sneaky and slimy, while Kay proves she’s clever, genial, funny, and exceptionally fitting as a surrogate mother and wife to fill in the obvious gap in the Calder family unit. Inevitably, that union comes to fruition, especially as betrayal, rapids (featuring some exceptional shots of raging waves), and threatening Indians get in the way of Matt’s plan to farm peacefully. Soon enough, he’s forced to climb aboard a rickety raft to brave the River of No Return. “There are lots of ways to die.”

Although the photography alternates between grand CinemaScope shots and terribly unconvincing close-ups in front of a green screen (attempting to heighten the suspense), it’s difficult not to be impressed with the lighthearted adventure, the playful chiding, and the unquestionably scrupulous lead trio. There are darker notes of revenge, shady pasts, looming dangers (including sexual violence), and the illusion of role models diminished (specifically through the eyes of a child), but audiences are rarely given a reason not to wholly support Matt and his son as they navigate the wilds in a not-so-desperate bid for survival (even if, during one moment, Matt can’t quite control his emotions in front of the seductress). Plus, the many romantic sequences with Kay are amusingly genuine; the dialogue relies rather heavily on simple conversations and Monroe’s breathy, enunciated observations, but they’re nevertheless engaging. Subpar components can’t stop the basic premise and any other mediocre inclusions from interfering with the onscreen appeal of the stars.

As they approach an inevitable showdown in Council City, the conclusion can really only end in one way (though its specific decision is rather poetic). But the predictability doesn’t stop “River of No Return” from being consistently entertaining, even without a significant amount of originality for the Western genre (it’s more melodrama than anything else, thanks in part to director Otto Preminger). Instead, it’s highly memorable for its moral tale and full-circle construction (and satisfying parting shots), matching patterns in pictures like “Winchester ’73” and “Ride the High Country.”

– Mike Massie