u/OlinHollis

He was Chill long before chill was cool--so to speak. First movie I ever saw him in was The Westerner (1940) where he played Southeast, one of Judge Roy Bean's henchmen or lynchmen as the case may be. He also had a fairly brief but very memorable part as a saloon owner in Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (1973). But my favorite turn from Chill was as an affable, big-hearted rancher in From Hell to Texas (1958). That said, his performance as mystical mountainman Abe Blocker in the Gunsmoke episode of the same name was absolutely one for the ages. So, he was clearly versatile. He could be everything from avuncular, to seedy, to ominous. Regardless, few Western character actors were as distinctive as Chill Wills. Truly one of a kind, that man.

Hail! Hail! All hail Chill Wills!

For my money, James Drury is one of the more overlooked character actors in the Western genre. And unjustly so, I should say. He really excelled at playing hotheads, either on the side of good or bad. And very few actors had more expressive eyebrows than Drury. He could knit them in anger, furrow them in concern and arch them in surprise with the best of 'em. And Drury was certainly a handsome rascal. There are tons of pics of him on the Internet and most of 'em were posted on Pinterest by chicks. Heh.

So, hail! Hail! All hail James Drury!

Edgar Buchanan's acting career was almost exactly coterminous with the Golden Age of the Western. He got his first roles in 1939 and his last was in 1974. Buchanan brought a downhome decency to most of his roles, even when, as he sometimes did, he was playing an alky. To my mind, his most memorable performance was in Ride the High Country (1961) where he played the besotted preacher of Coarse Gold, California. At a rude, shotgun wedding he unexpectedly delivers a very moving and sapiental sermon on the nature of marriage--"A good marriage has a simple kind of glory about it. A good marriage is like a rare animal; it's hard to find and almost impossible to keep. You see, people change." Yes, Edgar, in some ways they do. But Buchanan himself was constant. You could rely upon him to deliver a touch of roughhewn class to the films in which he appeared.

And so, hail! Hail! All hail Edgar Buchanan!

The actor whose name sounds like a Scandinavian cruise line, Royal Dano was certainly one of the most versatile--and busiest--Western character actors of the genre's Golden Age (1939-1976). He could play everything from skulking psychopaths to salt-of-the-earth sodbusters to sanctimonious newspapermen. That versatility is doubtless one of the key reasons for his ubiquity. Need a foul-tempered badman, call Royal. Need un upstanding family man, call Royal. Need a saintly man of God, call Royal.

And so, hail! Hail! All hail Royal Dano!

If I was going to sculpt a Mt. Rushmore for Western character actors, Slim Pickens would almost certainly be on it. And I'm sure I'm far from alone in that regard for Slim. A bulky guy with a distinctive cornpone voice, a genuine cowboying background, and the ability to play a wide range of roles, Slim was a true asset to any film in which he appeared. Best known for playing Major JT Kong in Dr. Strangelove, and riding an atomic bomb while whooping and waving his cowboy hat, the Western, nevertheless, was his bread and butter. My favorite Western role for Slim was as testy chuckwagon boss Ike Walterstein in Will Penny (1967). But his Western appearances were myriad and most of them were great.

So, hail! Hail! All hail Slim Pickens!

Ol' Jack Lambert had the meanest mug in the West. In fact, he looked onry enough that he probably could have gone toe-to-toe with the eponymous Pittsburgh Steelers legend. Lambert didn't often get many lines. He usually played the role of a dumb, vicious brute, a classic Western henchman, a thug in spurs. Lambert also, however, was the first and one of the very few men to outdraw Matt Dillon. Lambert played the role of Kin Creed in that one, he had lots of lines, and he did a great job. A pity he wasn't given more opportunity to stretch his thespian legs a bit.

Nevertheless....hail! Hail! All hail Jack Lambert!

Although Claude Akins doesn't get talked about as much as many Western character actors, he excelled virtually all of them in one particular role type--the ultra-cocky badman. For evidence, watch him in Rio Bravo and Comanche Station, if you haven't already. Akins' mocking grin was even more nettlesome than James Coburn's, and he had a rich-as-molasses Georgia drawl in baritone that lent him an air of authority. Kind of an odd combo that grin and that voice. And he sure got plenty of mileage out of them.

So, let us hail! Hail! All hail Claude Akins!

Not to be confused with Scatman Crothers, Strother Martin was none other than one of the most ubiquitious and arguably beloved character actors of the Western genre. He typically played rather weasely and pathetic characters who tagged along with more formidable types. And, when the spirit came over Strother, he could chew the scenery like few actors before and after.

And so...hail! Hail! All hail Strother Martin!

Here is the space to celebrate all things LQ. (Rumor has it, that stands for Lascivious Quail...)

Only deceased a few years ago, he was certainly one of the most recognizable Western character actors. However, he seems to have been recognized mostly by sight rather than sound. In other words, LQ got plenty of screen time but didn't often get all that many lines. Not that he really needed them to make an impact. Some actors improve scenes by their mere presence and LQ was one of them.

However, sometimes LQ was given an opportunity to really show what he could do as an actor. For instance, in the Gunsmoke episode "The Gun" (1970), he played a fast-talking, Machiavellian reporter who wasn't above trying to manufacture death and mayhem to serve as grist for his stories. LQ was excellent here.

And with that...Hail! Hail! All hail LQ Jones!

Here is the space to celebrate all things Warren--and I don't mean G. Harding or Peace.

Great actor. Brought a touch of goofy humor to most of his roles, but could also be a bit more serious as in his portrayal of a doomed soldier in Major Dundee.

Hail! Hail! All hail Warren Oates!

This Western is very much worth watching. I knew Fred MacMurray only from My Three Sons, The Apartment, and a few Disneys from the 70s. Never would have pegged him as a Western hero, but he gives a very good account of himself in Face of a Fugitive as a bank robber who, through a serendipitious series of circumstances, gravitates toward the side of law and order. He's stolid, steely and stoic as a Western man should be, but also radiates a certain dangerousness.

Now the main reason I purchased this film on DVD is because of the presence of James Coburn; this is his second feature film. Coburn doesn't disappoint as the top hand of a greedy rancher who will stop at nothing to fence in every parcel of land he considers his own. The final showdown between Coburn and MacMurray, incidentally, is a classic. Coburn's role is fairly extensive and he improves the film's quality.

Jerry Goldsmith's score is unusually good. Film music from the late 50s and early 60s was often rather evocative--modernistic, angst-ridden and wistful, and I think that accurately describes the music for Face of a Fugitive.

Lastly, although this picture has its fair share of violence and brutality, it is also strikingly idyllic and tender at times, reminding one of the section of Shane before all hell broke loose.

This film isn't a masterpiece, but it is certainly an attractive jewel of the Western genre.

One of the more common tropes of the Western genre is of a young boy becoming snake fascinated with an older man who really knows how to handle the artillery. The most famous example is, of course, from the movie Shane (1953). In The Spikes Gang it is a trio of young friends (Gary Grimes, Ron Howard, Charlie Martin Smith) who happen upon wounded bank robber Harry Spikes (Lee Marvin), nurse him to health, and fall under the spell of the desperado.

Initially, this film has the makings of a high-spirited teenage romp not too far different from 1970s Disney pictures. There's plenty of bouncy/twangy fiddle music, and as the three teens string along with Spikes in search of adventure and fun, they too believe they're headed for a land of gumdrops and chocolate sodas. They have no inkling of consequences. No idea what's really in store.

But soon enough reality intrudes and this picture turns dark. In the boys' ill-conceived bank robbery attempt borne of hunger and lack of money, CM Smith--the most innocent of the three--accidentally shoots and kills a notable politician. The three, along with Spikes, are now wanted dead or alive, and a large bounty reward ensures that they'll never again know ease and peace of mind.

The tragic spiral has been set irrevocably in motion. CM Smith dies in another ill-fated robbery attempt. Ron Howard is gunned down and eventually dies after being shot by two bounty hunters, one of whom is Spikes who chose to turn against the boys in exchange for promises of pardons and amnesties. And the final scene is a shootout between Grimes and Spikes in which the adversaries kill one another. All members of the Spikes Gang are now dead.

Here is a film that deglamorizes the outlaw and his conduct of life. Sure, sure, Spikes is charming, charismatic, clever, courageous and tough--as one would expect from an outlaw. But this movie also reveals his evil side. Spikes is murderous, duplicitious, egocentric and sociopathic. He has no principles and lives in accordance with no moral system. The world and the people in it do not exist except as pieces of clay in which Spikes makes his own impressions.

Concomitant with Spikes' venomous nature is the danger associated with worshiping men because of their image rather than their character. Yes, Spikes is cool but he's also a cold monster. Far better to throw in with duller men of considerably higher moral fiber. Failure to do so can mean young lives destroyed or terminated prematurely. Life can turn from tantalizing to tenebrous in the blink of an eye.

There were many actors who appear to have been tailor-made for the Western genre, but for whatever reason made no or very few appearances in Westerns. Below are four that spring to mind: Burt Young, Robert Lansing, Steve Forrest and Warren Stevens.

Post your additions to this roster of missed Western opportunities.

FaFDM is, up to this point in my exploration of the Western genre, my favorite film. The first object of any picture is to get the viewer's attention and hold it for the duration. To do this, it must entertain. FaFDM is simply marvelous entertainment. Sure, its deployment of Western tropes is over-the-top. But that (sympathetic) outrageousness is the key to the movie's appeal. There's an abundance of arch humor, a wealth of derring-do, a score just as outsized as the film itself, and a fascinating and monstrous villain (El Indio) who, though quite intelligent, is also too evil to go on living. There is a shot where El Indio, asleep but with his eyes open under a slouched hat, looks strikingly live a viper coiled under a rock. Is sums up the character well.

And this gets to a very common animadversion at the time of the film's release about its supposedly gratuitous violence. Sure, sure--the killing is part of the entertainment. Or more accurately, the supreme technique used to kill is the entertainment. But Manco and Mortimer are not killing innocent grandmothers or even kicking puppies. They are eliminating monsters who make their little corner of the world miserable. In that sense, when Manco and Mortimer eliminate El Indio and his gang, they are providing a small service to humanity, even if material gain seems to be Manco's primary purpose. The bounty hunters are the instruments of justice brought to bear by the public on fiends they cannot cope with themselves. Unlike many critics, I suppose, I don't go all misty and wobbly with guilt when Manco and Mortimer go about their grim business.

If you like your Westerns just a little bit strange, you'll probably enjoy High Plains Drifter. Personally, I cotton to the bizarre in Westerns just so long as it's not grotesque or overly disturbing.

This element--let's call it the Benign Bizarre--is a hallmark of the spaghettis, and it's there in HPD, too. Clint riding out of the heat shimmer to the odd sound of that synthesizer is a great and strange way to start the film, and a great way to end it, too. There is the social inversion of Clint annointing the lowly midget as the sheriff and the mayor. There is, of course, the red-painted town, which is surely one of the most striking visuals in all of the Western genre. And finally we have an avenging ghost of sorts, albeit one of surpassingly corporeal characteristics. No diaphonous specter is Clint, as the good folk of Lago will soon find out.

Another common feature of the Spaghettis and HPD that I admire is humor. William O'Connell as the nervous barber is good for a couple of guffaws as is the midget donning Eastwoodian attire--complete with a cheroot--and mimicking Eastood's mannerisms.

The bizarre, Gothic elements and the fine humor--it all adds up to a fascinating and satisfying film for me. All the more so that the repellent people of Lago get their comeuppance. And maybe that's what it's all about--in the end we cannot escape our sins.

A cast of truly outstanding Western actors elevates a good film to near greatness. RG Armstrong, for instance, is wonderful in the role of a cattle baron who is obsessed with killing a young man he incorrectly believes killed one of his sons in a scuffle over a girl. But although Armstrong's Hunter Boyd has blood in his eyes, he also has a code of honor that includes allowing his quarry--Don Murray's Tod Lohman--a four-hour head start in his efforts to escapt Boyd's clutches.

Chill Wills is terrific as an affable, big-hearted rancher who takes a shine to Lohman and does what he can to help him evade Boyd and his goons. And there are charming domestic scenes of Wills' Amos Bradley, his Mexican wife and their brood of chatty young daughters. Watch these, incidentally, and you'll be craving tamales, tacos and chiles (Chilles?) rellenos.

John Larch, as always, makes his mark. This time he's a Boyd gunman who loses his life in a duel in the rocks with Lohman.

Dennis Hopper is there in a role that suits him--a neurotic, petulent and vaguely effeminate kid trying to earn his spurs in the Old West. Boyd's only surviving son, he doesn't do anything right in this story.

And then there's Jay Flippen who makes a strong impression as a brave and rather pugnacious Indian trader who aids Lohman in a moment of peril. Tim Robbins is, I dare say, a latter-day Jay Flippen.

There's a very interesting philosophical tension in this picture. Lohman, a pacifist from Iowa who nevertheless possesses tremendous talent with the artillery, steadfastly refuses to defend himself and does everything possible to avoid bloodshed. He is a soft-hearted idealist in a brutal environment, and he is frequently aided in his efforts to escape Boyd by folk he randomly encounters. This phenomenon perplexes Boyd who at one point asks a priest why people are willing to do this. The padre responds, "You ask a difficult question. You wish me to explain the human heart."

Nevertheless, the film's conclusion produces something of a volte face. In the ultimate showdown between Lohman and Boyd and his men, Tom Boyd (Hopper) catches on fire after shooting on oil lamp, and staggers into the street. Lohman, braving gunfire from the elder Boyd, douses the flames and saves, to all appearances, Tom Boyd's life.

In the next scene Hunter Boyd says to Lohman, "This story will be told for a very long time in 12 different ways, none of them favorable to me. If you'll grant that I spared your life for saving my son, I'll gladly go to hell for all the rest of it."

Lohman's reply: "I'll grant you that, and I have no doubt you will."

Boyd appears almost thunderstruck by the response. Ultimately, the God-fearing pacifist reveals an Old Testament heart of iron. His refusal to grant Boyd absolution is, in its own way, the most violent act of the film.