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Scream of the Wolf (1974)
Only one redeeming quality for this tv movie
This made-for-tv movie screams 1970s, from the cars to the sets to the music to the wardrobe. So, for those born later, watch it and you'll understand why very few truly memorable television shows came out of that decade. Having said that, there are a couple of decent aspects to this production, and one exceptional one.
First, the not-so-decent aspects. The plot is mundane and the mystery is not very intriguing. Someone -- or something -- is decimating the population of a hip oceanside community, and Sheriff Vernon Bell is determined to find out who or what has set the town in a dither. He enlists the help of writer/hunter John Wetherby, who in turn tries to recruit his eccentric old friend and hunting companion Byron Douglas to help chase down the killer. Douglas, by far the most interesting character in this story, refuses, citing prior plans. He has an unconventional, some would say twisted, philosophy of life and death. It isn't until he once again bests Wetherby in an old-fashioned bit of arm wrestling that he finally agrees to help track down the vicious culprit responsible for the mutilation killings that are terrifying local denizens. Naturally, the term "werewolf" enters the general consciousness and, as it has for centuries, generates more irrational terror.
Well, I wouldn't say it's exactly terrifying to watch; more tedious than terrifying. Most of the attack scenes take place at night in poorly lit, misty forests and we never really get to see the perpetrator, except at the anticlimactic end when all is revealed. Impending mayhem is telegraphed by beastly grunts, usually in the murky dark, with ominous orchestral accompaniment and blood-curdling screams. We've been down that road too often before, so it's hard to become invested in the outcome. While decent aspects of this tv movie are hard to find, the formulaic script does have a few respectable lines delivered by stalwarts of 70s television, such as Philip Carey (Sheriff Bell), Peter Graves (Wetherby), and the obligatory lady-in-distress Sandy, played by JoAnn Pflug. But there is one surprising and redeeming element that makes this routine tv movie worth an hour and fourteen minutes of your time.
That element is the presence of Clint Walker as the somewhat creepy hunter, Byron Douglas. Playing completely against type, Mr. Walker conveys a sense of understated yet palpable menace unlike anything anyone would have ever thought him capable of. Those blue eyes that have so captivated fans from his "Cheyenne" days and beyond take on a sinister glint belying the smile adored by multi-generations of fans; the combination is positively bone-chilling. It's such a departure from the generally heroic characters he played throughout his career that even non-fans must admit that Clint Walker was a much better actor than he was given credit for, and if given the opportunities he deserved, he would have been a superstar in the eyes of more than just his enduring fan base numbering in the untold thousands. Thanks to INSP and H&I, that number is growing by the day.
While I prefer the heroic over the psychotic, I admire the man's ability to inject an unexpected aura of attractiveness into what is essentially a very scary character, and that's not just because he maintained his tall, dark, and handsome stature throughout his career. When he tells Sandy not to worry, that he'll take care of John, the smile and that wink are diabolical, yet curiously charming. The only reason the movie itself deserves as many stars as I gave it is, in two words, Clint Walker; without him, it'd be worth maybe three.
Yuma (1971)
"Fightin' for is different than fightin' against."
A solitary man on horseback leading a pack mule slowly crosses the desert landscape. The music is docile and quaint at first but explodes when he turns into the main street of an obviously thriving Old West town.
No sooner has he tied the animals to a post than his attention is drawn to a runaway stagecoach barreling down Main Street with two drunken yahoos at the reins, shouting and firing pistols into the air, laughing as the coach overturns in the middle of the thoroughfare, whereupon they stagger in the direction of the saloon to refuel. The stranger glances inside the stagecoach then walks back to his horse, pulls a rifle from the saddle holster, heads across the street, stops, takes a tin star from his pocket and pins it on, then strides purposefully toward the saloon. What happens when he gets there sets the stage for the rest of this gritty made-for-tv film.
The younger of the two yahoos resists arrest, claiming absolution based solely on his surname, King. But it doesn't work on the stoic newcomer, and hotheaded Sam King winds up dead from a rife blast after firing several shots at the stranger. One of the witnesses, Nels Decker of the cattlemen's freight association, snarls, "Stupid move, Marshal." He explains with condescending hauteur that the King ranch brings a lot of money into the town, which the last three lawmen had learned to their sorrow within a week of their taking the job.
"My name is Harmon," replies the new marshal, steely resolve in his deep voice and piercing stare, "and I'm here to stay." Then he marches the remaining King brother, Rol, off to jail.
Just after Harmon gets Rol King behind bars, congenial old Mules O'Neil strolls in and introduces himself as a barely surviving freight business operator who is content to fish every day and work only when the more successful Decker company throws a small job his way. Harmon gives O'Neil the job of riding out to pick up the stagecoach's passengers who had been dumped in the desert by the joy-riding King brothers.
Harmon's demeanor softens on meeting Julie, the pretty hotel owner, and Andres, a Mexican street urchin/would-be thief. When next we see the marshal, he's clean-shaven and wearing a suit. He catches Andres trying to steal from the grocer, gives him a few coins for food, and offers to let him sleep in the marshal's office in exchange for cleaning it. That very night, two men free Rol King but then shoot him in the back with the marshal's shotgun as he runs into the street. Andres, from his pallet on the floor, witnesses the jail break but can identify one of the assailants only by his very shiny boots. Decker smugly threatens the marshal. "When Arch King rides into Yuma tomorrow, he's gonna want more than a Mexican kid's word that you didn't kill his brother."
Shiny boots mean one thing to Dave Harmon; they belong to a military man from the adjacent Army fort. He goes there and, after using an unorthodox way of getting the commander, Major Lucas, as well as the entire garrison out of bed he learns that the only man missing from the fort that night, Captain White, is the quartermaster responsible for buying cattle to be distributed by treaty to the tribe on the reservation. The keen-eyed Harmon notices well-laden wagons from Decker Freight Company on the base and you can almost see the wheels begin to turn in his mind.
According to Major Lucas' dossier on Harmon, the marshal was himself in the military and had left the Army with a good record. After the war he took up ranching, but when his wife and son were killed by raiders wearing Union uniforms, he became a lawman seeking justice. He had gone from one job to another, always near a military base. Lucas cautions Harmon not to let his tragic past cloud his judgment now. "You haven't got much evidence to arrest a man on."
"If he's innocent," replies Harmon, "he's got nothing to worry about."
Lucas pointedly assures him, "If he's guilty, he'll face a court martial." To which Harmon replies bluntly with that steely stare, "If he's guilty, he'll face me."
From there the fabric of an intriguing mystery begins to be woven: the local Indians are angry because they aren't getting their allotment of beef, Arch King is bent on avenging his brother's death, and there's an undercurrent of corruption running through the dusty town of Yuma; all the threads seem to be tied together somehow. Using several clever tactics, Marshal Harmon manages not only to solve the mystery but also to defuse a potentially volatile situation by using his brain.
It's a shame this well-crafted and well-cast pilot with skillful writing and production values didn't become a series, but by the 70s Western lawmen were being replaced by flashy 20th century detectives in fast cars, and once that precedent was set, there was no going back. Still, "Yuma" had all the components of a winner that Western fans might have enjoyed for quite a few seasons.
Perennial bad guy Morgan Woodward as Arch King shows he could also play a tough, angry cattleman who is still capable of listening to a voice of reason. Dave Harmon is that voice, every bit as strong and determined as King but interested more in seeing justice done than in spilling blood. I can even see these two powerful men becoming friends after the dust settles.
All the supporting players are excellent, from Kathryn Hays' potential romantic interest, Julie, to Edgar Buchanan's outwardly harmless old coot, Mules, and Barry Sullivan's ruthless crime boss, Nels Decker. Harmon's relationship with Andres (played well by Miguel Alexandro) is touching, as the stoic lawman teaches the orphan more than one life lesson, including the importance of being proud of his heritage. Better to fight for something worthwhile than to rail against things we have no control over. Like the Indian chief and even Arch King, Andres is learning that here is a man he can trust.
That man is portrayed by the ultimate in stoical heroes, Clint Walker, who had already built up a reputation in the extremely popular Western series "Cheyenne" by playing a strong, honorable man for whom an insistence on justice was behind everything he did. In 1971, when Yuma was aired, Walker at 44 was still one of the most physically imposing actors ever to grace the screen. Taller than average with the physique of a man who takes care of himself, he exudes confidence and, oh yes, it didn't hurt that he was one of the most handsome men of any age ever on film. He is adored by fans to this day, not only as an icon of male physical beauty but as a decent, principled human being onscreen and off. To several generations he continues to be the embodiment of strength, honesty, intelligence, and just plain masculine charisma. When asked how he wanted to be remembered, though, Clint Walker said simply, "As a good guy."
Mission accomplished, Mr. Walker.
Cheyenne: Road to Three Graves (1960)
"I've heard it said that the success of a tyrant can only be measured by the size of the hole it takes to bury him in."--Cheyenne Bodie
In the first scene, a dapper don named Manuel Loza---who is painting his own portrait, a glimpse into his psyche by itself---tells an underling in a cavalier voice that they might have to kill Cheyenne Bodie. In the very next scene, a large man named Tuk seems about to do just that, but after a few minutes of exchanging jaw-breaking blows, the big man finds out that the Big Guy is actually working for him, and they end up laughing about it. From his little kingdom called "Security," Manuel Loza is the connecting tissue between the two scenes, and before the hour is over, the would-be despot will learn that there are men who are more intelligent and strong-minded than he is.
To finance his plan to build a home for boys orphaned by the war, Tuk is determined to get three wagonloads of equipment to a working mine; to do so, he has to cross Loza's land. Even though their passage is legal by federal grant, Loza has already had three teamsters killed because they tried to get the cargo to the mine, hence the name of the trail in the episode title. Given Loza's reputation for ruling over his little empire with an iron fist, it's difficult to find men willing to risk their lives to help deliver mining equipment. So Cheyenne and Tuk don't ask too many questions when a Confederate army veteran applies for the job, not knowing that he will soon have a new wife and son to bring along that might complicate matters. There's some tension involving old misunderstandings about the war, but in the end it's all sorted out, Loza meets the kind of end often reserved for tyrants, and Cheyenne can move on, secure in the knowledge that the noble dream of his newfound sparring partner, Tuk, is all but guaranteed.
I have only one objection to this episode; it's a complaint I haven't had to voice often for this generally well-produced series. While it must have been all but impossible to find a realistic stand-in for the imcomparable Clint Walker, the stuntman used in the fight between Cheyenne and Tuk is so obviously not the star that it's distracting. It's as if another character altogether had suddenly appeared onscreen. Camera angles and lighting could have been done better so that the stand-in wasn't so much center stage. This is not a criticism of the stuntman, who was just doing his job; the fault lies with whoever was in charge of making the substitution virtually unnoticeable.
Except for that jarring glitch in continuity, this is an enjoyable episode, due mainly to Cheyenne Bodie's camaraderie with Tuk, the easygoing but doggedly persistent man with the kind of noble dream Bodie can support. Alan Hale brought a bit of the jolly skipper from "Gilligan's Island" to his two appearances in the series, but in keeping with the basic disposition of those characters. Clint Walker's steadfast Cheyenne is a good match for the tenacious Tuk. It's always a pleasure to see Bodie in the company of a potential friend. I like to think that they kept in touch with one another. Fans of the show and the character share a secret wish that a worthy man like Cheyenne Bodie eventually got the 'happily ever after' he so richly deserved.
Cheyenne: Counterfeit Gun (1960)
"Bodie bossed the gang."
Robbers heartlessly kill a hapless old prospector who chances upon them as they're about to roll a boulder onto the track to stop a train that Cheyenne is on, guarding a shipment of gold. During the robbery, Bodie shoots one of the bandits and the rest take off with the gold. The mortally wounded thief fingers Cheyenne Bodie as their leader. As far as the sheriff is concerned, a dying declaration is all that's necessary for the trial. But Cheyenne has other ideas. He escapes to the Mexican village that the notorious Giff Murdock calls home, certain that Murdock is the mastermind behind the train robbery and other crimes. From past experience, Cheyenne knows Murdock is one bad hombre. But if Bodie is to clear his name, he must bring Murdock back across the border to answer for at least one train robbery.
South of the border, he meets Julio (Vito Scotti), a dapper Mexican who offers to be his translator. Then he finds Murdock (Robert Lowery) and his fiancé Francie (Lisa Gaye). But things aren't adding up; something about the way the man shuffles cards catches Cheyenne's eye. It isn't long before the mystery of Murdock is solved and, thanks to Julio's timely intervention, the gang is effectively rounded up, never to terrorize north of the Rio Grande again.
There isn't much else to say about this episode. The writing is prosaic and the story itself requires an improbable suspension of disbelief. The cast is good, but everybody seems slightly bored because they aren't given very much to do. Vito Scotti adds some energy and a humorous element as he often does in any part he plays, but in this one he turns out to be an unlikely heroic sidekick instead of mere comic relief. His is the most interesting element in this story, except for Clint Walker's Cheyenne Bodie, who is his usual strong, brave, and observant man of principle, determined to see even an apparently hopeless quest through to the end. Lisa Gaye, a familiar face in 50s and 60s television, costarred with him in two episodes of "Cheyenne." When asked in an interview who she felt best portrayed a cowboy, her immediate response was "Clint Walker! He is big, slow-speaking, and easygoing; he settled into the saddle better than anybody else." He did indeed, and in this episode, he proves yet again why he remains, for thousands of fans, the favorite cowboy of that era, even when the material he's given is less than scintillating.
Cheyenne: The Rebellion (1959)
"What happens when the people find out what you really are?"
Cheyenne Bodie is bringing a wagonload of cargo along with an American agent named Brady into Mexico and finds himself smack dab in the middle of a countrywide revolt against Emperor Maximilian. His life is saved by a sympathetic Army sergeant and he wakes up in the camp of notorious bandit-turned-revolutionary Luis Cardenas, whom he'd known years before when he was just Cardenas, the wily bandit. Bodie had been commissioned to see to it that Brady complete his mission and return home safely, so he agrees to stay with the rebels until he finds out what happened to Brady.
Manuel Lagrone is a revolutionary who prefers fighting with words instead of bullets to achieve liberation. He has seen his old compatriot, now self-proclaimed General Cardenas, change over the years until he no longer trusts him to lead the peasants' revolt to a noble conclusion. Cardenas' transgressions move from a simple lust for power and gold to plotting to assassinate the rightful president of the republic of Mexico, Benito Juarez. It's up to Cheyenne Bodie not only to save Juarez and Lagrone but to stop Cardenas' narcissistic advance toward dictatorship.
This isn't the first time Cheyenne has reluctantly become involved in the Mexican rebellion against the French. In this instance, he sticks around only to fulfill his duty on Brady's behalf but winds up helping the true patriots of the revolution, still reluctant but he will also defend against blatant injustice when called upon to do so. He's aided by a solid cast of convincing revolutionaries, some heroic, others not so much. Rudolph (Rodolfo) Acosta is very good as the sly Cardenas, who would probably have been better off if he'd stuck to simply robbing banks. Joe De Santis is Lagrone, the intellectual fighter who, aided by his beloved Maria (Faith Domergue), first mistrusts Bodie then enlists his help. Frank DeKova, one of the most ubiquitous of Clint Walker's costars throughout the series (usually as an Indian chief), here is somber El Presidente, Juarez. The lowly Mexican sergeant who saves Cheyenne's life is played by veteran actor John Marley, whose star didn't rise until the 1970s when he appeared to acclaim in such award-winning movies as "Love Story" and "The Godfather." That is one of the distinctions "Cheyenne" shared with other Westerns of the 50s and 60s, that many of the supporting players went on to have solid careers in Hollywood. It's fun to see them at the beginning of their trek to success.
As ever, Clint Walker is the star of the show, never being overshadowed by anyone, even those whom we recognize today as other icons of film and television. His legacy of being a stalwart advocate of honesty and integrity, while looking better than anyone else doing it, is what keeps us anticipating the next episode.
Cheyenne: Blind Spot (1959)
"Steady, son. The Claiborns don't believe in violence."
That turns out to be about as far from the truth as a man can get, but Vincent Claiborn truly believed it until the end, when his own son showed him how wrong he was.
Cheyenne Bodie rides into a southern town to see a group of masked men with whips galloping away from a body in the street. Neither the sheriff nor any of the other townsmen call it murder. Cheyenne is there to deliver a pony to his friend Paul's adolescent son, Gerald, and hopefully, to take the boy back north to be with his father, so he continues with his mission undeterred by the extreme lack of southern hospitality. The boy has been brainwashed by his Confederacy-entrenched grandfather and uncle, so refuses to go with Cheyenne or accept the pony. Then Cheyenne becomes another whipping boy, and that makes him very angry. Restrained and careful as Bodie has proven to be time and again even when provoked, men have learned the hard way not to make him very angry.
There are a number of side elements to this story, including the underhanded dealings of landgrabbers, the price of cotton, and the self-righteous morality police, all intertwined with the basic theme that some diehards, who call themselves "the Regulators," refuse to accept Lee's surrender at Appomattox, and they make their point in the most theatrical way possible. Never mind; Cheyenne Bodie has faced bigotry, greed, and violence before, but it hasn't stopped him yet. It takes a mob with a tar-and-feather mentality to bring things to a head. Clint Walker without a shirt stops them dead, but that might have been more for the viewing audience than for the onstage players.
The cast is good if you discount some of the bogus southern accents. John Litel plays the patriarch of the Claiborn family, a "true Southern gentleman" who really doesn't believe in the violence, even when he learns too late that the ringleader of it all is his own devious son, Ashley. Batman-in-waiting Adam West is not quite the heroic figure when sharing screen time with Clint Walker. Jean Byron is the widow of the man killed in the beginning, the local schoolmarm who cares deeply about young Gerald Claiborn and hates to see his mind so corrupted by his uncle, Ashley. It's a good thing Cheyenne Bodie came into the boy's life when he did, just in time to show him what a real man looks, acts, and sounds like. In the end, Gerald is reunited with his father, and Cheyenne looks on with satisfaction for another mission accomplished.
Cheyenne: Town of Fear (1957)
"You loved your son; I can't hold that against you."
Cheyenne Bodie rides into Twin Forks with the Durango Kid, who picked the wrong man to try to rob. He earns a $500 reward, but there's a delay in collecting from Cheyenne's friend Sheriff Sam Townley, who refuses to turn the Kid over to a liquored-up lynch mob led by cousins Ted Curtis and Bob Crowley. In the confusion, Teddy is shot and everyone accuses Sheriff Townley of murder. At Bob Crowley's insistence, Bill Jenkins is appointed interim sheriff. Unbeknownst to everyone, there was a witness to the shooting, and before the truth comes out two more men will die.
Easy-going Teddy Curtis was the well-liked son of Jed Curtis, the most influential citizen of Twin Forks, who demands quick justice, which means an inevitable necktie party. When the circuit judge arrives, the town gets ready to hang Sam Townley, and Jed Curtis is there for a front-row seat, along with his nephew Bob Crowley, Teddy's replacement in the old man's affections, and Teddy's pretty widow Marilee, whom Bob has his eye on. Bob doesn't know that she is trying to help Cheyenne solve her husband's murder. The night before the trial, Bodie intentionally starts a fight in the saloon to get himself put in the cell next to Sam's. The trap is set, and the real killer is unmasked, with Jed Curtis as a witness. There's something satisfying about seeing the really bad guys have the tables turned on them, and from the beginning Cheyenne Bodie has been very clever about doing that. In the end, Sam gets an apology from Jed Curtis, but he doesn't hold a grudge; after all, the man lost his only son.
Walter Coy is Sam Townley, who goes convincingly from desperation to complete vindication. Cousin Bob is played by John Reach, a sly toady with murderous inclinations and an envious eye. Kathleen Crowley is the long-suffering Marilee, who turns into an effective ally for Cheyenne in his efforts to save Sam from the gallows. Once again, Cheyenne Bodie proves to be the best friend a man can have. It's fun to watch how writers like Berne Giler and Sidney Morse have him work out the solution to a variety of problems. As chief advocate for the character he played so faithfully, Clint Walker often contributed to the scripts, making sure that Cheyenne Bodie never strayed from the man of honor he started out to be. That's fun to watch too.
Cheyenne: Noose at Noon (1958)
"Big world, Mr. Ryan; you'd be surprised how many people haven't heard of me."
They were soon to know just who Cheyenne Bodie is. In town to see his old friend Jim O'Neil, Cheyenne is shocked to learn that Jim's in jail, scheduled to be hanged the next day for shooting a U. S. Marshal in the back and refusing to defend himself against the charges. Jim is immediately overjoyed to see Cheyenne but then begs him to take any one of the four roads out of town. He should have known better. Has Cheyenne Bodie ever turned his back on a friend in need?
He's almost immediately attacked by two of rancher Duke Ryan's obnoxious cowhands, Billy Bob and Burt Flowers (a misnomer if ever there was one), who intentionally break the doll Cheyenne bought for Jim's young daughter, Susie. Ruffians generally have no respect for little girls' toys, but that's pushing Cheyenne Bodie too far so both louts end up on the floor. Anyway, that doesn't stop Cheyenne from giving Susie a sweet little music box, not knowing that it will eventually save her daddy's life.
As he often has, Cheyenne turns detective, especially after the sympathetic judge tells him that more is coming across the Rio Grande than cattle. "Pretty little dreams...opium." So some things never change. Another thing that doesn't change is how appearances can be deceiving. Duke Ryan and Ike Thompson are rancher neighbors of Jim's Circle N who play a pivotal role in the events that follow, one a shady but outwardly law-abiding character and the other an apparently upstanding citizen with secrets. Only Jim O'Neil can save himself, but to save his family he remains silent. As noon approaches, the town gathers, the saloon piano player launches into a perky version of "Camptown Races," and a forlorn church bell begins to chime the hour. Just before the noose is place around Jim's neck, Cheyenne saves Susie as he promised and Jim is finally able to "name the name." Rather than dissolve into grateful tears and hugs, Jim's wry parting words to his buddy are, "Funny what a man'll do to save himself the price of a black necktie." Susie steals a kiss and the happy family climb into a buggy to go back to the Circle N to resume their bucolic life.
This is another satisfying tale of friendship with an underlying air of mystery, although along the way the principle bad guys more or less identify themselves. There's tension, intrigue, some action, a modicum of violence, and even a dash of humor, pretty much the recipe for many episodes of "Cheyenne." But it works. All the parts are well-cast and competently played, with special mention going to Roy Glenn as the O'Neil's faithful retainer, Lonzo, and Stanley Farrar as the accommodating Judge McHenry. Nancy Kulp's 2-minute turn is a gem as a waitress who, when Cheyenne asks if she has a lemon, calls the entire town a "lemon" and then pats Cheyenne on the cheek and goes off to get him a glass of lemonade. Clint Walker is, as usual, the magnet that draws it all together. As first season director Richard L. Bare said in an interview, "Cheyenne" was "a hit right from the get-go" because of its star.
Cheyenne: Dead to Rights (1958)
"Y'know, Shorty, one of these days I'm gonna let you finish your fights."
Three men come flying out of a saloon and hit the ground hard, then a diminutive fellow struts out behind them with a little smirk on his face, cackling, "That'll teach ya not to mess around with me." We find out he's Shorty Jones, a spitfire of a man, but when Cheyenne Bodie follows him out of the saloon brushing off his doeskin shirt and running his hand through his hair, it's obvious that Shorty had help. That's pretty much the most action there is in this story. There's more talkin' than shootin' but as always, the denouement sees the chief bad guy dispatched, this time by Mother Nature with an assist from Cheyenne Bodie. And there's also a nice element of mystery until that point, giving Cheyenne another chance to use brain over brawn and come away with fewer bruises than usual.
The mystery begins when Shorty receives a letter that has him packing to rush out of town, promising Cheyenne he'll be back in a couple days to help deliver the freight Bodie and Shorty had contracted to take to Marysville. When he doesn't return, Cheyenne tracks him to Sacramento, where he finds Shorty in jail for disturbing the peace. "Did you have to come all the way to Sacramento to find yourself a scrap?" asks Cheyenne. Not one, but two as it turns out; one with a pickpocket and the other with a dapper lawyer. The supporting players begin to multiply when Shorty is shot and Cheyenne embarks on a quest, not only to find the killer but to locate and save the wife and son Shorty told him about moments before he died. Small clues are dropped along the way, including a plethora of Winchester 44s (the rifle used to kill Shorty), a Colt 45 with the Running M brand of Marshall Ranch used to attack Cheyenne, a mysterious letter and newspaper ad connected to the lawyer, and a stern woman who uses clothespins for target practice. All clues lead to a ranch in the Siskiyous that belonged to Shorty, where on a wintry weekend the pickpocket, the lawyer, and Adelaide Marshall converge, along with Cheyenne, and where thanks to Cheyenne's dogged sleuthing, his friend's considerable estate settled.
Familiar faces in this episode made it almost feel like a family reunion. Mike Conners made his only appearance in the series, playing the congenial pickpocket; but during his long career, he became a household name as Mannix, so he fits right in here. Joanna Barnes plays Adelaide Marshall, more like her familiar starchy characters than the infatuated wife she played in her only other appearance in "Cheyenne" (Alice Claney in "Devil's Canyon"). In this, one of his six appearances in the series, Don Megowan plays Adelaide's fiancé determined to see that she inherits the Marshall ranch. Last but not least is John Russell as the lawyer who hides a secret or two of his own. Worthy of mention is Don Barry, the scrappy and likeable Shorty Jones; he wasn't around long, but he made good use of his screen time. Master of accents Karl Swenson is the Scottish owner of the inn in the Siskiyous who never put down his knitting needles; another familiar face that makes any show feel like home.
Of course, the main reason a lot of fans watched "Cheyenne" to begin with could be summed up in two words: Clint Walker. There were very few clunkers in the series due to inferior story or production values, but fans of the show were never disappointed to see how Clint Walker carried the day on his massive shoulders. He was always fun to watch, and in this episode, his alter ego Cheyenne Bodie proved yet again to be a loyal friend by finishing Shorty's last fight.
Cheyenne: The Long Search (1958)
"All right, Bodie, I'm gonna take a chance on you."
A boy chases a rabbit into a cave and there's a cave-in. Cheyenne Bodie and his friend Char, a former fellow Army scout, ride by together soon after, part company, and then Char finds the boy's pinto pony. Minutes later, a group of men from Gainesville overtake Cheyenne and tell him there's a missing boy. He says he'll be on the lookout and rides on toward town. The men then see Char with the boy's pinto. From that point on, there's a lot of jumping to conclusions based on prejudices and past conflict with the nearby Sioux camp. Before the white men and the Sioux finally reach a kind of détente, events multiply quickly.
First of all, the people accuse Char of kidnapping the boy in revenge for the sheriff's shooting Char's brother. Next, Cheyenne won't abandon his friend and that loyalty causes the sheriff and his deputy to threaten him and, before long, accuse him of being in league with Char and the rest of the Sioux. Add to the mix the saloon owner, who reveals her deep, dark secret to Bodie and asks him to help her. Being Cheyenne Bodie, he tries to do just that and ends up being accused of all sorts of further offenses. There's a great deal of misunderstanding before the satisfying resolution, when the boy is reunited with his family and the most offensive player is found out and sent packing, literally. Cheyenne even saves that rabbit!
Although there are tense moments, it's a feel-good story, a pleasant change from some of the grimy, violent narratives in the series. The sheriff winds up being very glad that he took a chance on Cheyenne Bodie, and Bodie leaves knowing that his Sioux brothers can live in relative peace with the people of Gainesville. Dean Fredericks (as Norman Frederic) is Char; he always makes a convincing Native American, as he has done in several episodes of "Cheyenne." Claude Akins (with the second deepest voice in the show) plays the sheriff, a hard-headed man who learns that there are ways of settling a conflict other than with a gun or a spiky belt. Randy Stuart is Peg Ellis, the ex-dancehall girl turned saloon owner, who wants only for her child to be taken care of and have a happy life. Clint Walker's velvet voice carries the show in more ways than one. Cheyenne Bodie speaks truth and common sense, and he also has the unwavering determination to stay around long enough to make sure justice is done.
Cheyenne: Wagon-Tongue North (1958)
"I guess I've tried just about everything outside of committin' murder and marryin'."
When the sheriff asks about his background, Cheyenne replies wryly that he's "tried just about everything," but he's in China Hat about a cowhand job he'd seen advertised. Typical Cheyenne Bodie attitude, that he's willing to try any legitimate job, except that the one he ends up taking means concealing his true identity in order to help the pregnant widow of a man he'd just killed in self-defense. There's just something about Cheyenne Bodie that instills trust, so Faith Swain implores him to boss the drive for her and, honorable man that he is, Cheyenne agrees, reluctantly but still with a determination to do a good job.
He takes control right away but as so often happened, he doesn't get much help from the drovers who are just waiting for the chance to "blow out his light." As it turns out, they are in cahoots with the local land baron, Wrangel, as devious and corrupt a rancher as any in the series. Before long, he convinces Mrs. Swain that Bodie is the hard-hearted gunslinger who killed her husband in cold blood. She learns too late that Wrangel is the hard-hearted one, intent on stealing her herd with the help of her own drovers, who have been in his employ all along. They stampede the cattle and almost kill her and her newborn baby. Cheyenne enlists the aid of the local Sioux chief who, in exchange for much-needed beef, agrees to help Bodie recover the herd, save Mrs. Swain, and see to it that Wrangel and his men face justice.
This is a very good episode, with an excellent cast and production values. Worthy of special commendation are Kelly Thordsen as Pike Wood, the Swain's drunken head drover; he usually played a bad guy and he's got the weathered face for it. I enjoyed the character of Jug Wilkins as portrayed by I. Stanford Jolley, who habitually played basically the same character, the old codger in the group of cowboys who often lends an element of balance, reason, and even humor to the proceedings. Sioux Chief Johnny Cake is played by Frank DeKova, not the first time he played an Indian; in this one he not only offers his braves to help Cheyenne against the enemy but he offers his squaw to nurse Mrs. Swain's newborn infant, a nice practical and realistic touch.
Believing the lies Wrangel spews out, Ann McCrea as Faith Swain cries, "Why would he do this to me?" when she's told that her capable and kind trail boss is the man who killed her husband. It's easy to sympathize with her. She's a woman who's suddenly had all the responsibility thrust on her that her husband had shouldered, even if he was not "all a man should be." Plus, she's expecting a baby any minute. In the end she apologizes to Cheyenne, but he, being an example of 'all a man should be' if ever there was one, assures her that he understands. Clint Walker managed to convey kindness, strength, and compassion by softening his rich baritone voice and by the expression on his face. He isn't given nearly the credit he deserves for being able to convey just the right emotions without having to recite lines of dialogue or overact. Clint Walker was one of a kind, the good kind.
Cheyenne: The Empty Gun (1958)
"Man that lives by the sword dies by the sword." --Gravedigger
On a dreary, rainy afternoon, a cold, wet, and hungry Cheyenne Bodie happens upon a man being buried and then along comes the man who killed him. Matt Reardon is a notorious gunslinger unlike any Cheyenne has ever met. He's wearied of the lifestyle, the notoriety, the loneliness, never took pride in his reputation. Besides all that, he's lost the use of his preferred gun hand. In Moundsville to repay an old debt, he trusts Cheyenne and prevails upon him to stick around until the debt is paid. The surly sheriff, with whom Matt grew up, gives them 48 hours.
Martha Fullerton is an old flame and the wife of Matt's former business partner, Ray, and Matt is there to give her Ray's share of their profits before he moves on. Before he can do that, her impetuous son, Mike, shows up and angrily orders Matt to get out and not come back. Well, Matt had killed his father; never mind that Ray was the instigator. Cheyenne stops the kid from pulling a gun on Matt and the boy whines, "It's my gun; give it to me!" (I half expected the dimwit to stamp his foot.) Anyway, Reardon won't leave until he settles his debt. But Mike Fullerton is determined not only to reject anything from Reardon but to kill him, and gets involved with three ne'er-do-well townsmen to accomplish the job. When Cheyenne tries to convince Matt to leave town, the drained gunslinger refuses, saying, "A man on the run is trying to get away from someone. Trouble is, I can't get away from myself." After more saber-rattling, young Fullerton finally succeeds, but not in the way he planned and he doesn't even know that he did. Matt's touching last words are, "You're my friend, Cheyenne." The only true friend he'd had in a very long time. The final scene echoes the first one, Cheyenne watching the gravedigger put a man in the grave to "rest in peace."
This, like many stories in the series, is an obvious morality tale. It's a valid one, though, very well told without heavy-handed moralizing. John Russell is Matt Reardon; his handsome, weathered face convincingly mirrors the torment of the man inside. Audrey Totter plays Martha Fullerton, a woman who has suffered much loss in her life; first, losing Matt all those years ago, then her husband at Matt's hands, and now terrified that she's about to lose her impetuous son. He's played by Sean Garrison. You can't help but sympathize with the boy and at the same time want to knock some sense into him. The head ruffian is good old bad guy Hal Baylor, often Cheyenne's intentional nemesis but this time an accidental one. Vince Barnett is Miklos, the tavern/hotel keeper who, although barely five feet tall, steps in more than once to stick up for Cheyenne Bodie. Tod Griffin plays the prickly sheriff who, by the end, has learned a couple of valuable lessons about how to uphold the law.
Clint Walker's Cheyenne Bodie exudes empathy and common sense throughout this episode, qualities that are an indelible and appealing part of his character. He proves to be a good friend to a man whose past he can't help but deplore but whose present journey he respects to its inevitable conclusion. In the end, Cheyenne is able to say, "He died a man of peace."
Cheyenne: Renegades (1958)
"Glory"
In a dangerous tactical move, Sergeant Tom Wayne decides to use a keg of dynamite to defend his platoon at Verde River and won't allow scout Cheyenne Bodie to take the risk. "You're a civilian scout, mister. The Army does its own dirty work." Before he dies in the explosion, the sergeant asks Cheyenne to find his rebellious teenage son, Jed, and convince him to join the Army. Bodie is injured in the battle, but he'll never let a little bullet stop him from fulfilling a promise. After healing sufficiently, he finds Jed in jail for disturbing the peace, bails him out, and invites the boy to join him on his mission to Fort Sumner. There, Cheyenne meets the hard-nosed commander, Col. Donovan, and learns that his next assignment will be to arrange a conference with the Comanche chief Little Elk, whose tribe is to be relocated to an inhospitable part of the territory. A long-time friend of the chief, Cheyenne warns that the Indians will not take the news well.
Jed enlists but doesn't last long because other soldiers make fun of his draft horse, who doesn't exactly fit the Army's idea of a proper cavalry horse. When the horse is injured, the Army wants to put him down. On the run, Jed ends up in the camp of Little Elk, who respects a man who defends his horse at the risk of his own life. Little Elk's renegade son, Yellow Lance, threatens all-out war with the whites. Before long, both he and Col. Donovan learn their own lessons the hard way; Donovan when his daughter is taken hostage, and Yellow Lance by trying to kill his father and then, in a fit of rage, Cheyenne Bodie. In the end, a measure of peace is restored on both sides. Donovan's rigid attitude toward the Indians softens, Little Elk can return to his camp, and Jed suffers a painful loss but takes comfort when Cheyenne assures him that his valiant horse played a crucial role in saving the day.
This story has a rather bittersweet subplot, at least for animal lovers. The main story focuses on honest men on both sides of a conflict whose measured efforts make for a satisfying conclusion. Production values are up to Warner Brothers standards. Peter Brown plays Jed with his usual combination of casual charm and veteran skill. Surly Col. Donovan is played by Bartlett Robinson, who has a naturally stern countenance that suits the character; by the end of the episode his brow has relaxed somewhat. Olive Sturgess is his daughter, Kathy, a sweet, pretty girl who has eyes for Jed.
Clint Walker is the Cheyenne Bodie fans have come to admire--unselfish, ready to defend his friends, eminently capable when given a job to do, and looking really good doing it. Sharing the spotlight is the secondary hero of the tale--a big, white, loyal draft horse, willing to do whatever was asked of him; not named in the credits, known only by the apt name Jed gave him---Glory.
Cheyenne: The Gamble (1958)
"I don't know much about women, but one thing I do know. It's kinda hard for one to fool another."
Robbie James is determined to shield her sheltered 18-year-old Boston boarding school daughter Dani from the truth, that her mother is not the upstanding rancher she had led Dani to believe she was but is instead a well-known gambling hall maven. Cheyenne is in Dennison because his drive partner lost half the herd gambling, and where his half goes, so goes Cheyenne's. Without too much background, it's clear that Cheyenne and Robbie have a history, indicated by her coy comment when they meet again. After looking him up and down, she says with a little smile, "You've changed, Cheyenne. Lost that gangly coltish look. A definite improvement." His glowering reply, "Didn't seem to bother you before," hints at a relationship somewhere along the line.
Cheyenne is blackmailed into helping Robbie continue the subterfuge of respectability by ramrodding the saloon until she gets back from a month-long trip with her daughter. When his efforts to convince Robbie that one lie simply begets another fail, he reluctantly agrees to help, telling her wryly, "Don't worry. My word's as good as yours." But when Dani turns up unexpectedly, the plot shifts abruptly and Robbie's efforts to conceal the truth are upended. Although she lashes out at Cheyenne, he knows it's because she's devastated, so he doesn't give up on her. Cheyenne Bodie has proved over and over again that he's a loyal friend as well as a man of his word. She admits, "It's tough to live a lie, Cheyenne." To which he replies in a last-ditch effort to reason with her, "Sometimes it's even tougher to live the truth." But she's still determined that Dani not find out the truth about her mother.
Enter Duke Tavener, shady representative of a corrupt gambling combine that wants to add Robbie's Tailgate Casino to their chain of crooked gambling halls. He learns Robbie's secret and threatens to spill the beans to Dani. When Dani finds out anyway, Tavener's threats lose their power, so his henchmen Dutch and Bradan go to plan B---kidnap Dani. Saloon moocher, Mousey, notices them leave town after her and tells Cheyenne, who rescues the girl, then has to shoot it out with Tavener's hired gun. Dani proves to be a lot like her mother--stubborn, resilient, and spirited, willing to accept the truth and get on with working that ranch Robbie had told her about.
Veteran actress Evelyn Ankers exudes just the right combination of cynical woman of the world and soft-hearted, protective mother. Theodora Davitt plays Dani very effectively in one of her few screen appearances. James Seay is sleazy Duke Tavener, the kind of man who smiles while he's about to knowingly ruin your life. Craggy-faced Morgan Woodward appears as Bradan, one of the earliest in his lengthy career of bad guy roles. Old town drunk Mousey is played by Raymond Hatton, who began his acting career in silent films. Although the target of jokes and cruel pranks, Mousey ends up helping Cheyenne save the day for Robbie and Dani. He has some good lines in this episode too. When he sees Dani ride into town sidesaddle, his eyes widen and he says to Cheyenne, "She's only riding one side of that horse!" That's just one of the many quotable lines in this well-crafted script, credited to Albert Aley from a story by L. L. Foreman.
This is another satisfying, even heart-warming episode of "Cheyenne," with Clint Walker at the center of the action, delivering lines in his usual natural, unaffected way, and proving once again to be a hero to damsels in distress and even to the town derelict, while taking care of bad guys who won't be causing trouble again for anyone else anytime soon.
Cheyenne: Top Hand (1957)
"They taught me a lesson; not the one they wanted."
As foreman, Cheyenne Bodie introduces the ranch's new owner, Ben Gentry, to the assembled hands, then announces he'll be leaving. Gentry doesn't take the news well; he wants only the best for his sprawling ranch and knows that Cheyenne Bodie is the best. In fact, everybody in the valley wants Cheyenne to be their top hand, but he's tired of all the in-fighting among the three largest ranches and can't wait to shake the dust of that valley off his feet. Before he's able to do that, one of the ranchers, George Lambert, offers him the top hand job at his ranch; Cheyenne declines. Not five minutes later, he has to intervene when a brash young Clay Conover challenges Lambert's foreman, Barlow, who is known to be quick with a gun; Clay doesn't appreciate the help. Then Clay's tough-as-nails sister, Marie, tries to talk Cheyenne into coming to work for her; again, he declines. He decides to leave town immediately but is ambushed by Barlow and two others, severely beaten 'to teach him a lesson,' then tied to his horse and he wakes up the next morning on the ground in danger of being dragged to his death. Marie Conover and Clay rescue him and he ends up accepting her offer to be their top hand, not exactly the lesson Barlow was teaching.
Gentry means to own the rest of the valley, but his bid to lease the Conovers' land and Lambert's have met with inflexible resistance, so he uses a dam as leverage. They give in or he'll cut off the water supply to everyone in the valley; even though it's illegal, it will take years to settle in court and by then their land will be a parched desert. At the end, there's a shootout between the valley's ranchers and Gentry's men, but they manage to blow up the dam without shedding too much blood. Cheyenne even saves Barlow's life and everyone ends up on good terms because Clay Conover has stood up to defend his inheritance. When Lambert says that Marie will be very proud of her brother, a defeated Gentry replies that she'll be surprised, too, to find out "he's the man she thought she was."
I like happy endings, and this one comes as close as almost any episode of "Cheyenne" to qualify. Long-standing feuds and secret romances are resolved with a minimum of bloodshed. There's even a touch of humor here and there, as there is in most episodes; after all, humor was one of Cheyenne Bodie's inherent characteristics. When Marie opens the door to a shirtless Cheyenne's hotel room uninvited, after a few seconds of staring at each other he points out that she's had time to figure out she's in the wrong room. She thanks him for saving Clay from being killed in a gunfight with Barlow and he suggests that maybe it's time she let Clay grow up. Her reply is that Clay's a kid who needs a man to look after him, "and you seem to qualify." That scene is watchable, and not just because of Clint Walker's manly physique and handsome face. It demonstrates that his timing and line delivery, not to mention his facial expressions and overall demeanor, were among the best of any Western tv star; he was simply a natural. This episode has a lot of good moments and, as usual, it's fun to see how Cheyenne Bodie helps the locals protect their own. Jeanne Cooper is convincing as a woman whose hard-boiled exterior is just waiting to be cracked by the right man. Peter Brown is credible as her hotheaded brother; it's a wonder Clay made it as far as he did, though, with his quick temper and resistance to help even when it's to his advantage. The entire cast is good, and the production values hold true, with the expert blending of stock footage for the action scenes. As usual, Clint Walker is the mainstay, always a delight to watch, both in the times of onscreen conflict and in the quiet moments. No one has ever melded the two better than Clint Walker.
Cheyenne: The Mutton Puncher (1957)
"Now, don't you worry, Mr. Bodie. You look plenty big enough to defend yourself."
When he's not ganged up on or taken by surprise or at gunpoint, he's eminently capable of defending himself. However, he hasn't encountered the likes of Thora Flagg before. But that gets ahead of the story.
One thing you can say about Cheyenne Bodie; he's resilient. When he declines his tyrannical boss Ben Creed's offer to stay on as foreman, Creed arranges to have Cheyenne attacked so the wily Creed can come to his rescue and Bodie will feel beholden enough to stay on with the drive; the tactic works. Later on, when he leaves again, he's attacked at Creed's orders, but this time his rescue comes from the friendly lick of a shaggy sheepherding dog.
So Cheyenne survives two potentially life-threatening attacks ordered by a man he calls his friend. Well, the exact quote is, "Ben, you're the biggest snake a man ever saw in this country without the help of whiskey. But I like ya, and I guess that's one of the reasons I'm quittin'; sooner or later you'd throw a knife at me and I'd have to throw it back." So Cheyenne isn't blind to his devious boss's shortcomings; he just appreciates that even ruthless Ben Creed has a few positive attributes, albeit somewhat questionable. But in addition to being resilient enough to survive serious conks on the head, Cheyenne Bodie is also loyal and won't put up with a stranger insulting the "considerable Mr. Creed."
That's where Thora Flagg comes into the picture. By trickery, she manages to get "cow man" Cheyenne Bodie as drive foreman. When he goes to inspect the herd and finds out that they are "measly, bleatin', mutt-headed sheep," not cattle, there's an intense exchange, wherein he offers to "kick them pants clear across the canyon, with you in 'em!" Later, when she and Cheyenne end up camping overnight on the trail (again at Creed's orders and much to Cheyenne's discomfiture), he objects to her saying Creed has a "big mouth and black heart," even though he knows it's quite accurate. But he stands up for his boss, literally. Still, it isn't long before Cheyenne comes to realize that in Thora, Ben has met his match, which is another way of saying that they deserve each other. The final scene that verifies it can't help but inspire a smile.
This is another episode that is a delight to watch (except for the few scenes that show just how odious men like Ben Creed could be). Noteworthy is the interaction between Robert Wilke (Ben) and Marie Windsor (Thora), both veteran actors who play less-than-admirable characters that you can't help but admire despite your better instincts. But for me, Thora and Cheyenne's interchanges are the most enjoyable. Clint Walker and Marie Windsor have great charisma, individually and together, and they have some of the best lines in the entire script, bounced off each other with the zing of ricocheting bullets.
"Muy hombre, ain'tcha, cowboy," says Thora, looking Cheyenne up and down after he handily rights the wagon that Creed's cattle have toppled. "Well," he responds, "you're kind of a lot of woman yourself, ma'am, if you don't mind my sayin' so." When Cheyenne and Thora are alone before a campfire, she tells him, "Cheyenne, I need me a good man in the worst way." You can almost see him blushing as he tries to steer her in the direction of eligible "bronc squeezers," then just to clarify asks, "You fixin' to hire help or talkin' matrimony?"
Before the real ruckus begins, Ben Creed calls Cheyenne his friend, and Bodie's perceptive response is, "You ain't nobody's friend but Ben Creed's, and then sometimes you gotta watch him to keep him from stealin' the holes in your socks." When Thora's loyal wrangler Ringo questions the wisdom of trying to turn back stampeding cattle, Cheyenne tells him, "If they don't turn, mister, you'll be campin' tonight with the Good Shepherd."
These are just a few examples of dialogue that throughout the episode is apropos and authentic, entertaining no matter how many times you rewind, thanks to an excellent script by Wells Root (by far his best screenplay of the five he wrote for "Cheyenne"), first-rate direction by Franklin Adreon, and the top-notch WB production values that characterized the series. Of course, Clint Walker's Cheyenne Bodie is at the center of the action. His powerful screen presence, as well as his natural delivery and talent, and the contribution of the perfectly cast supporting players combined to make this episode a winner by any standards.
Cheyenne: Incident at Indian Springs (1957)
"They're lookin' for a reason to celebrate, and you're it."
The schoolteacher, Jim Ellis, is not happy to be that reason for celebration. After a bank robbery by the notorious Curren (or Curran) brothers, one of them ends up dead in the back of Ellis' wagon, and the teacher is hailed as a hero. Then when the truth comes out, that he's only after the reward money that rightfully belongs to Sheriff Bodie, those same townsmen turn against him in a fit of self-righteous communal indignation without asking for an explanation. It takes a lone boy, the banker's son Kenny, standing up for his teacher and coming to the assist of his friend Sheriff Bodie, to make the adults come to their senses and defend one of their own.
The main twist in this story is that the cutthroat Currens are half-brothers to peace-loving Jim Ellis, and when they find out what he did, they're determined to see to it that he pays with his own life. Ellis is conflicted because he's tried to live his life by the principle that guns are bad and killing is wrong, but his discontented wife prevails on him to claim that he's responsible for the outlaw's death when it was the sheriff's bullet that did the job.
Dan Barton credibly plays the meek schoolteacher who becomes a guilt-ridden pariah. Besides the children who adore him, Cheyenne Bodie is his only friend in town, but as always that counts for a lot. Bonnie Bolding is his wife, Lynne; she worked only a couple of years as an actress before becoming a stockbroker and philanthropist, quite a long way from Hollywood. Veteran child actor Christopher Olsen is Kenny, who taught the adults that their town had a conscience.
Clint Walker played a character much like himself, a man of principle who didn't back down no matter what the odds, never compromised (or played the Hollywood game), and was, like Jim Ellis, determined to remain true to his own core values, except that Bodie never faltered. Like Jim Ellis, Cheyenne Bodie didn't believe that killing was ever a good thing. Although proficient with a firearm, he took no pride in that skill even when the object was a thoroughly reprehensible scoundrel. Those ideals have taken a beating in the decades since Cheyenne roamed the television prairie, but Clint Walker remained true to them all his life.
Cheyenne: The Broken Pledge (1957)
"Looks like the men in this country have got a real unhappy future ahead of 'em."
An Eastern newspaperwoman becomes a thorn in Cheyenne Bodie's side from the moment she asks him to pose for her with his gun, "as if you're about to kill a man." His look of contempt as he declined should have made her heart sink to her toes. But this would-be Nellie Bly remains undeterred in her march to disaster. Her ignorance of the workings of the new frontier is matched only by her ruthless ambition to become the best-known journalist in the world, which includes betraying the Sioux warrior who had trusted her.
When a miner is killed and an accused Sioux brave is shot down in retaliation without trial, the tensions between the army and the Sioux intensify, and it's up to Cheyenne to de-escalate the situation, first by reasoning with the Indian chief and then by bringing in the white man who's responsible for the trouble in the first place. Drawing on his experience with the Indians, he uses diplomacy and, in the end, a bow and arrow. Justice is served.
In this episode, Chief Sitting Bull and George Armstrong Custer make an appearance, and we get a glimpse of the Little Big Horn where, according to a tribal medicine man, the Sioux nation will come out victorious in a great battle. "Cheyenne" scripts often alluded to historical events and people; whether or not the references were strictly accurate, they often added to the authenticity of the story, and gave us a context for the times in which Cheyenne Bodie traveled the West.
Jean Byron is sufficiently annoying as the aggressively ambitious Fay Kirby, who assures Cheyenne that women were destined to take over what had long been considered a man's domain; that is, the world. His wry response indicates that, even though she might be right, coming from her it isn't the best news he's ever heard. John Dehner is Nagel, the real villain of the piece; he learns the hard way that just taking away Cheyenne Bodie's gun does not disarm him. As the base commandant, Paul Birch shows a fair and balanced approach to maintaining peace with the Sioux. Unfortunately for him, the episode ends with his telling Cheyenne that he's been reassigned to Custer's Seventh Cavalry. He invites Cheyenne to join him as a scout, but Bodie declines, choosing "the Yellowstone" instead. It wouldn't be long before he realized what a wise decision that was.
I liked this story, mainly because it put Cheyenne in another different setting that gave Clint Walker the chance to demonstrate what a versatile actor he was. He's not given nearly the credit he deserves for his ability to adapt to the storyline and play the same character week after week yet let us discover new qualities about him. Besides his expertise with horses and guns, he could deliver well-written lines as if the thought had just occurred to him. For someone who'd never aspired to be in, much less the star of, a tv show, it's amazing how he stayed the same humble, modest man he was at heart while he handled it all as if he'd been born to it. Which, considering the unconventional and serendipitous road he took to stardom, he very well might have been.
Cheyenne: Hard Bargain (1957)
"Curley, I'm gonna be movin' on, but everything's gonna work out all right. You'll see."
When Cheyenne Bodie rides into Trail Cross, he's accosted by three men who, like so many before them, are itching for a fight with him in particular. Unlike others who have tried to beat up the Big Guy the minute they lay eyes on him, however, these three are just trying to distract everyone so the fourth member of their gang can rob the bank. Cheyenne is deputized to bring back the robber while his three confederates sit in jail as "material witnesses," as the sheriff quotes Dakota law. He has only three days to find the fourth gang member before the others are released.
He finds Curley Galway defending himself against Sioux tribesmen who also have an interest in the $4000 stolen from the bank. To avoid another Sioux attack, they must take the long way back to Trail Cross. On the way, when scouting ahead on foot, Bodie triggers a bear trap and is injured. Curley helps free him and takes him to his family's ranch nearby, then rides off for the doctor, leaving Cheyenne in the care of his bossy sister Nora. Later, he meets Curley's father Pat and learns that XL Ranch is trying to take over the valley, including the Galway property. Cheyenne volunteers to do a little mediating after Pat is assaulted by two strangers that he is certain were sent by the XL's manager, John Beamer. Using his newly acquired knowledge of Dakota's "material witness" law, Cheyenne manages to bluff Beamer into helping Pat Galway. The final test of Curley's true character comes when his cohorts show up and demand he turn over the money, which will also mean betraying Cheyenne's trust.
Familiar faces are peppered throughout this episode, and there's something comforting in that. Even though he's in only a few scenes, Regis Toomey always lends an aura of amiable stability to any episode he's in, he's such a skilled veteran. Carlyle Mitchell is John Beamer, almost as sleazy a ranch manager as he was a judge in "The Trap." Robert Keys and Mike Ragan are reliable crooks, and Stuart Randal looks the part of a seasoned sheriff. Dependable Will Wright is the grumpy doctor who pulls wood slivers out of Cheyenne's arm. Curley's pretty but no-nonsense sister Nora is played nicely by Dawn Richard; her only other appearance in the series was in "Rendezvous at Red Rock," where she was Millie, who looked like she'd just stepped away from a Salvation Army kettle. Here, after taking care of two stubborn men most of her young life, Nora naturally takes charge of Cheyenne Bodie when he resists her order to rest, ignoring his protestations and shoving him onto the bed, proving yet again that those prairie home beds were not designed for a 6'6" frame. Of course, she's also noticed that he's a pretty fine lookin' fella. Although grateful for the help she gave and no doubt finding her an attractive young lady, he doesn't stick around long enough to encourage her. Richard Crenna was a little old for the part of a naïve young would-be robber, but he does well, and you can't help but sympathize with his situation. Knowing Cheyenne Bodie as the empathetic and resourceful character he is, there was no way this all-too-human drama couldn't help but work out all right.
As a side note, it's known that members of Clint Walker's family were on hand the day the bear trap scene was shot. It must have given them great satisfaction and pride to see how he had evolved from a hard-working, modest small-town Illinois lad into the most capable and charismatic--yet still unpretentious--of all the Western tv stars.
Cheyenne: The Spanish Grant (1957)
"What's the matter with you people--haven't you ever seen a baby before?"
Most likely not in the arms of a tall, burly cowboy like Cheyenne Bodie, they haven't.
He draws a crowd when he rides into Hermanos with a baby, the lone survivor of a stagecoach attack. The sheriff has his hands full trying to find out who's responsible, and that leaves Cheyenne in charge of the baby. Looking for saloon boss-turned-respectable rancher Blake Holloway about a ramrod job, he goes to the saloon and meets Amy, a cheeky piano player in the tradition of bar singers of the period. He also encounters relentless mocking by a loud-mouthed cowpoke; with a neat bit of well-deserved payback, Cheyenne is able to put the wiseacre in his place, but it's a move that will cost him later.
As it turns out, that baby is heir to the very ranch that Blake Holloway has acquired, and he's not ready to give it up after going to all the trouble of having Juan Pilar, the child's father and the rightful heir, killed in the stagecoach. But Holloway makes a good case for legal ownership and, of course, Cheyenne doesn't know about his underhanded schemes. The lawyer who was to meet with Pilar has all the paperwork to prove the baby's identity, but he's dispatched in a brutal way that's made to look like an accident. The only thing left for Holloway to do is make sure the baby isn't around to make any claims on the ranch. Pancho Mendariz, a charming notorious Mexican bandit who claims to be the baby's godfather, complicates things and gives Bodie a hard time, especially when he senses something between Cheyenne and Amy. The resolution comes in the last few minutes, which often happens, and in this one the primary antagonist ends up gambling for the last time.
The principal characters are all well written and acted. Douglas Kennedy makes a believable Blake Holloway, with just the right amount of self-confidence laced with cunning. Hal Baylor was one of Cheyenne Bodie's most ubiquitous foes; he seemed to enjoy taking on the Big Guy. Anthony George is sufficiently amiable as the flirtatious bandito with sketchy motives. Peggie Castle is just as appealing here as she was in "Fury at Rio Hondo," playing much the same character, a sassy ("What now, Daddy?") and worldly-wise bar girl with a soft but cautious heart. She and Clint Walker have real chemistry onscreen; I would like to have seen them together again. This episode has so many nice touches, both of humor and of drama, with a really interesting story line that gives Clint Walker a chance to show Cheyenne Bodie's range of emotions, from anger and determination to compassion and indulgence. He might be a tall, burly cowboy with vast experience in his travels, but he's still awkward around pretty women who unselfconsciously undress practically in front of him. True to his character, though, he spends his night with Amy and the baby in a chair on the other side of a curtain. Although Amy says she's learned "to stay away from men like him," she might have wished he'd stayed around a little longer.
Cheyenne: Decision at Gunsight (1957)
"Any man who's fightin' for his rights and what belongs to him has got a chance."
Again and again, Cheyenne Bodie has proven that he is loyal to and maybe a little be too trusting of old friends. When fast-talking Ray Wilson (the perfectly cast Dub Taylor) deeds a livery stable over to him in lieu of the $1200 he owes then hightails it out of town, bad things start happening that Wilson never mentioned. Delos Gerrard and his gang of gunslingers have taken over the town and are running a protection racket. Everyone, including the sheriff, has buckled under the pressure, so in effect Gerrard owns the entire town. That doesn't sit well with Cheyenne Bodie, bringing another facet of his character in full display-his intelligence. He starts charging townspeople for the same service, which irks Gerrard so much that he basically puts a price on Bodie's head. The attractive owner of the saloon takes a liking to the tall newcomer and helps him because she doesn't want to see him hurt. Then he finds out she's actually Gerrard's wife, Leda, who surprisingly becomes his only ally in Gunsight. When all the law-abiding citizens desert the town for a canyon hideout, it's just Bodie against Gerrard's gang, all of whom have vowed to blast his head off.
This was a different story than the run-of-the-mill Western shoot-em-up, although there's plenty of gunplay between Cheyenne and members of Gerrard's gang. Bodie finally convinces the townsmen that the only way to reclaim what belongs to them is to stand up to Gerrard. There's a neat little twist at the end when Gerrard challenges Bodie to an old-fashioned duel, using pistols that have left 17 men dead by his hand. Cheyenne outsmarts the odious criminal mastermind, though, and the townsmen finally show up armed and ready.
I really like this teleplay by Berne Giler (from a story by Burt Arthur), well-written and acted. Cheyenne Bodie once again proves that he's no pushover, and he's willing to endanger his own life to put things right even when the people he's trying to help might not be worth his efforts. Marie Windsor ('the prettiest woman he's ever seen') is a sympathetic figure who is tired of her husband's ruthless greed and is ready to make a change. (She shows up again in "The Mutton Puncher," another favorite episode, playing a feisty herder intent on getting what she wants from Cheyenne.) John Carradine plays the slimy Delos Gerrard very well, not his first screen villain but surely one of the most reprehensible. The dueling scene is actually funny in a way; it's satisfying to see such a loathsome character being made the object of disdain instead of fear. Again Clint Walker's Cheyenne Bodie proves that there might have been no other cowboy in the Old West who so well employed his brain as well as his brawn to accomplish what he came to do.
Cheyenne: The Brand (1957)
"Dyin's the only thing I got left, and I aim to do it right."-Clay Rafferty
Juvenile delinquency is nothing new, but the three Rafferty siblings Cheyenne Bodie encounters when he's looking for help with his lame horse are tough even by Old West standards. He's met right away with gunfire from their cabin. When a posse shows up and the real shooting begins, the cabin catches fire and he manages to see that all three kids get out safely. Turns out the posse is after Clay, the oldest, a hotshot wise guy with gangster potential. Kat and Tad view their brother as some sort of hero, but when they meet Cheyenne Bodie, they have someone to compare him with and Clay's aura must inevitably fade. Of course, blood is thicker than water, and it takes some real-life events to help them realize that the outlaw life isn't so heroic, after all.
Cheyenne comes to town looking for an old friend and business partner and discovers, much to his dismay, that not only is his old pal dead but Clay Rafferty is the one responsible. There's a trial and Clay is sentenced to hang; justice was swift in those days. Naturally, Kat and Tad are devastated, but Tad still views his brother as a fearless champion who will go to his death just as valiantly as their father did, laughing and dancing a jig all the way to the gallows. Cheyenne appeals to Clay's love for his brother, hoping he will not leave Tad with an unrepentant tough guy image that the boy will try for the rest of his life to imitate. Whether or not Clay's heart is touched by Cheyenne's entreaty, the closer he gets to that hangman's noose, the more his bravado dwindles, and his last words will ring long in young Tad's mind: "I don't want to die!"
Sue George plays Kat Rafferty, who starts out hard and scruffy and ends up looking like a young woman any lad would like to have on his arm at the church social. In fact, we first see her in a dress at just such an event, when she shyly asks Cheyenne to dance, showing what a difference a true hero's influence can make. Not much is known about Darryl Duran, who played Tad, but he did a very good job of portraying a boy who came out of a very rough upbringing with a much better attitude, again thanks to the power of a real man's subtle guidance. Edd (Edward) Byrnes, "Kookie" to a later generation, is effective as Clay, foreshadowing the costarring role he would soon have as Yellowstone Kelly's greenhorn apprentice. For most adults, he suffers in comparison to Cheyenne Bodie and Luther Kelly, both of whom exude manliness, but it's easy to see why he captivated the hearts of adolescent girls in the 60s. Clint Walker is again the star of the show. One thing that fascinates me about him is how he can invest that rich deep voice of his with such gentleness, as in his interaction with Kat Rafferty and her brother Tad. While he maintains his insistence on justice, Cheyenne Bodie does so with kindness when the situation calls for it, and that elevates his character to a level unmatched in the tradition of Hollywood leading men.
Cheyenne: Big Ghost Basin (1957)
"Take my horse; I don't want him hurt."
Throughout the series, Cheyenne Bodie has shown his respect for the natural environment and the critters who share it with us. He might be a tough cowboy but he's got a soft heart. When the situation is sure to be perilous, as happens in this episode, he makes certain that his faithful steed, Brandy, is far from the danger zone, even though that leaves him without a way to get out quickly himself.
The story begins when he comes upon a campfire in the dark and is accosted by a brash young man named Bill Paxton who points a gun at him and, with no interest in introductions, accuses him of being in league with rustlers that have menaced the valley for a long time. He easily disarms the impetuous Paxton but just as he rides away, two glowing eyes appear in the bushes and he hears an anguished scream. When he returns to the campsite, he finds Paxton brutally killed and the fire extinguished. He takes the body into town, only to be met with suspicion from everyone except Englishman rancher Jim Harwick, who hires him and as his first job assigns him the task of finding out what's responsible for a string of deaths like that of young Paxton. Bill's twin brother Pierce, a hothead like his twin, remains skeptical of Bodie's intentions.
After Cheyenne rescues Pierce's fiancée, Sherry, from whatever is hiding among the trees, he shows Paxton papers identifying him as an agent for the Indian Department, with the commission to identify and stop the rustlers who have been stealing cattle from the local tribes. Paxton agrees to help. To do it, Cheyenne sets a trap with himself as bait for the mysterious fire-hating predator. It turns out that the rustlers were using the creature to frighten the superstitious locals into inertia so that they could carry out their nefarious activities without interference. It's a dastardly plan, but Cheyenne has maneuvered events so that he can not only catch the creature but also capture the gang of rustlers.
All the supporting players are very good, including a cameo by venerable Western cowboy Slim Pickens, who injects a note of levity into the drama by admitting to be a coward who is still reluctant to take Cheyenne's horse as instructed and leave Cheyenne alone to confront the mysterious creature terrorizing the basin. This is another case of Cheyenne Bodie overcoming distrust and using his brain to solve a crime. When he demonstrates a humane approach toward the poor traumatized bear, it's yet another facet of his personality that has endeared both the character and the man who brought him to life, Clint Walker, to thousands throughout the decades.
Cheyenne: Deadline (1957)
"A man's got to face himself sooner or later."
Two men ride up to Charley Dolan's, where he and old friend Cheyenne are putting up fence, and try forcibly to serve an eviction notice. When Charley and Cheyenne protest, both end up on the ground unconscious. But a conk on the head has never stopped Cheyenne Bodie from trying to right a wrong. He goes into Los Altos to check on Charley's property rights, and encounters only resistance from the land agent, then in the saloon from the local sheriff and from the man who seems to run the town, Len Garth. Waiting for a meal, Cheyenne is befriended by Boyd Copeland, a genial drunk who's enjoying himself a little too much. To avoid the boisterous fellow being roughly ousted by Garth's men, Cheyenne escorts him home. There he finds that Boyd's wife is an old flame, Paula, and he learns that Boyd works for the local newspaper. A fire in his office starts a chain of events that involve both Cheyenne and Charley. There are many contemptible elements in this story, including corruption and greed; but there are also positive ones, such as the nature of friendship and the need for redemption. It's a satisfying mix, agreeably resolved by the time Cheyenne rides away.
Mark Roberts convincingly plays the alcoholic newspaperman who finds not only his voice but his true strength of character. The sleazy politician/thief/murderer Garth is played by Bruce Cowling, an unfamiliar actor to this series but one who was fairly active in the 40's and 50's. John Qualen is Charley Dolan, who considers Cheyenne the son he never had; it's a poignant relationship, so close that Cheyenne uncharacteristically loses his temper when he thinks that Boyd is responsible for the old man's death. Ann Robinson is effective as Paula, who chose Boyd because, unlike Cheyenne Bodie, he needed her. In an interview many years later, Ann said that Clint Walker was "the most decent man" she'd ever met, as gallant off-camera as he was on. That is rare praise in Hollywood, but it's an apt description of the man who brought Cheyenne Bodie to life so well that to this day he remains the epitome of the Western hero.
Cheyenne: War Party (1957)
"I'm not stronger. I just can't forget that I shot him."
The man he shot just happened to have shot at him first. On a mission from Fort Delgado, Cheyenne Bodie loses his horse and almost his life after being pursued by a band of Sioux. Trudging through an isolated stretch of land, he comes upon a miner who sees him and fires without waiting for introductions. Cheyenne fires back, and his shot is more effective. He carries the man, Morgan, to his cabin, where he tends to his wound. As Cheyenne is about to leave, the man's wife, Jeannie, notices his own grazing wound and insists that he stop to rest. He stays on to help out, but after a tension-filled couple of days between the two of them, three strangers show up and that's when the real action begins.
Three escaped convicts turn this into more of a nail-biter than it would have been without them, especially adding into the mix the existence of gold on the property, the Sioux chief's promise to keep the whites from carrying that secret beyond the valley, and the criminals' equal determination to get as much of it as possible for themselves. The tension of the days before their arrival centered around Jeannie's palpable and understandable attraction for the tall, honorable man who had gone out of his way to save her husband, and Cheyenne is likewise drawn to her. But when Willis Peake and his two cohorts arrive, romance takes a back seat to their callous disregard for anything except the gold, which puts all of their lives in danger. We could have told them that such single-minded greed would not end well.
A very young Angie Dickinson plays Jeannie, a demure, lonely frontier wife who is quite a departure from many later vixen roles that turned her into a sex symbol. But we do get hints of her future in her reaction to Cheyenne Bodie's intensely masculine presence. That lantern-lighting scene is possibly the most innocently seductive in tv history. James Garner as the somewhat slimy Willis Peake also departed from the genial, easy-going persona that later served him so well as Brett Maverick and Jim Rockford. This was a tight story with good performances and some reasonably heart-pounding moments. Clint Walker in that fringed white doeskin shirt would turn any pioneer woman's head, but it was what was inside--besides an incredible physique--that mattered most. His gentle, considerate demeanor cemented his reputation as a cowboy any lady of the old West would feel safe with. In this episode, he exudes not only kindness and unselfishness but also the manly courage and strength that are indispensable qualities in a genuine hero of any generation.