Davy Crockett: King of the Wild Frontier

The name David Crockett is pretty instantly recognizable. One of the biggest heroes in American history, he accomplished a ton in his 50 years on Earth, a hunter, politician and through his actions at the Alamo, a tragic, mysterious icon. But the thing that people most often associate with Crockett is actually the Disney treatment, 1955's Davy Crockett: King of the Wild Frontier.

It's the mid 1810's and Tennessee hunter and farmer Davy Crockett (Fess Parker) has joined the local militia to help General Andrew Jackson (Basil Ruysdael) combat the revolting Creek Indian tribe. Joining him is his friend, George Russel (Buddy Ebsen), as they join the army. Crockett's exploits of scouting, hunting and fighting begin to pile up and his name (and legend grow). It all starts the backwoods frontiersman down a road that will take him to the state legislature for Tennessee and ultimately to Washington City as a US Congressman. Always on the move though, always looking for new fresh and unexplored land though, Crockett and Russel end up in San Antonio, Texas at a beat-up old mission, the Alamo, joining the fight for Texas independence against Mexican general Santa Anna and his army of thousands.

Aired as part of Walt Disney's Disneyland TV program in 1955, the Davy Crockett craze began with three hour-long episodes, with two more episodes filmed and shown on TV later that year. I was lucky enough to buy the DVD collection of all five original episodes years ago, and man, was it cool to watch it. It's rather pricey here at Amazon if you were looking to purchase it. 'Frontier' is actually about 90 minutes long while the three episodes in their entirety ran about 150 minutes or so. In the infancy of TV, this was a craze that swept across the country. Kids everywhere needed a coonskin cap and desperately waited for each new episode. Before the Internet, Twitter and all our other modern idiocies, this was a CRAZE. It's easy to see why.

It all starts with the casting of Fess Parker as the famous Tennessee frontiersman, David 'Davy' Crockett. As presented, this is more of a portrayal of the legend of the man, not who he actually was, and that's okay. Quick with a joke, a smile, a welcoming line, Parker becomes Crockett in a career-defining performance. It becomes difficult not to picture Parker as Crockett. He's an explorer, a frontiersman, one who lives by a code, who wants to know he's doing right and then go ahead. He's not content to sit still and is always working toward something. His homespun jokes, his easygoing manner (until he's pushed/cornered), the Crockett we see is maybe not the most accurate portrayal of the actual historical man. Instead, maybe it's what we'd like to think of the man. Again, this is more the myth, the legend of Davy -- not David -- Crockett but it works on so many levels from beginning to end. Parker at his absolute best.

What does a hero need? A sidekick. A friend. A road trip buddy. In steps Buddy Ebsen -- also in a career-best part -- as George E. Russel, a friend and confidant, a fellow deadshot with a rifle, and Davy's conscience at times as they navigate Indian wars, politics and ultimately, a life and death situation at the Alamo.  Most importantly, it's easy to believe in this friendship. Parker and Ebsen have the best kind of chemistry, natural and easy-going. These are our two heroes with Ruysdael's Jackson, William Bakewell, Pat Hogan, Helene Stanley, Mike Mazurki rounding out the cast.

The part of Crockett's life that always fascinated me was him ending up in the Alamo. The Disney version is a streamlined version of the battle but that doesn't take away from its effectiveness. Crockett, Russel and their two new companions, Thimblerig (Hans Conried), a down on his luck gambler, and Busted Luck (Nick Cravat), a down on his luck Comanche warrior, actually ride into the mission during the battle, not before it. Where there was a light-headed air at times with some comedic relief through the first two episodes, it's hard to pull that off with a story that ends with a massacre. Surprisingly dark, unsettling at times, it's nonetheless a perfect example of why people have been drawn to Crockett for going on 200-plus years. He fights for the underdog. He fights for what he believes and he's willing to sacrifice a ton for it, maybe even his life. As for the final assault on the Alamo, it's quite the iconic ending. We see Davy swinging his empty rifle at charging soldiers. We never see him die. It's a more effective, moving ending that way.

In our Alamo portion, also look for Kenneth Tobey as Jim Bowie and Don Megowan as William Travis, the other two heroes of our Alamo Holy Trinity. Some cool moments, including the infamous drawing of the line -- those willing to die cross over -- and Ebsen's Russel stepping in as the Alamo messenger who rides out looking for help...only to find none and still come back. The highlight remains for me the night before the attack, Davy quietly singing a song he's written about Tennessee. The men in the Alamo know what's coming, a somber, thoughtful cloud hanging in the air. A very effective ending for an excellent movie/show overall.

It was a lot of fun catching up with this Disney classic from Parker and Ebsen's scene-stealing roles to the instantly recognizable theme (Listen HERE), this was a gem then and it is now. Highly recommended in whatever format you can find it. I'm hoping to review the final two episodes soon as well, work/schedule permitting! In the meantime, DAVY...DAVY CROCKETT, KING OF THE WILD FRONTIER......That's me singing if you couldn't figure it out.

Davy Crockett: King of the Wild Frontier (1955): ****/****

Night People

From the end of World War II when Berlin was divided into two sections, American and Russians, the movies had a villain basically written for them for the next 50 years; the Russkies, the Red scare, the Pinkos, the Commies.  Whatever you want to call them, it worked. They were the complete opposites of us civil, humane Americans, always up to something shady in hopes of taking the United States and everything it represented down a notch or two or ten.

Made in 1954, Night People uses the Russians as the bad guys, but never puts a face on the villains.  Instead, they are only talked about, leaving the audience to make up their mind about them.  We hear about their tactics, their underhanded way of doing things. They're always up to something, holding a resentment against the Americans and anyone that opposes their way of life.  It is a weird little movie that can be hard to follow at times, but considering it was released in the midst of McCarthyism as Senator Joe McCarthy went on a Communist witch hunt in the U.S., it certainly is an interesting time capsule of the 1950s.

Walking back to the U.S. base in Berlin, an Army corporal is kidnapped and smuggled into the Russian sector in the city. An officer with the Provost Marshal, Colonel Steve Van Dyke (Gregory Peck) is given the case, told to get the corporal back through negotiations with the Russians. The soldier's father, Charles Leatherby (Broderick Crawford), is involved in big business back in the states and travels to Germany to help the effort, claiming he'll put pressure on people who aren't used to being pressured. Van Dyke though is a veteran of these prickly situations while Leatherby has no idea what he's getting into.  The Russians offer a prisoner exchange, the soldier for two private citizens living in Berlin they want to get their hands on.  Nothing comes easy though, and the exchange isn't as simple as it is made out to be.

Some reviews at the IMDB pointed out that director Nunnally Johnson's film doesn't have the same grittiness that similar movies like Carol Reed's The Third Man did. That's a fair criticism to make of Night People because honestly, it isn't as gritty or hard-hitting in its story about a post-WWII city trying to move on.  It was filmed in vivid Technicolor (which even pan-n-scan can't ruin) so the movie is full of color and brightness, gorgeous city locations.  It is too polished at times, too representative of a big studio production as opposed to a darker, seeder film.  I don't know what I'd expect differently though.  It's a movie made in 1954 meant for an audience rooting for the Americans.

Maybe ahead of its time is its handling of government matters concerning two governments who want nothing to do with each other as sworn enemies.  Both the Americans and Russians can't help each other out in the open, resorting to back channels, secret messages, double agents, and under the table agreements to get a job done.  Peck's Col. Van Dyke knows how to work the system for all it's worth to pull off the mission successfully.  We see his interactions with the state department (Max Showalter), his own agents in the field (Anita Bjork and Peter van Eyck), British intelligence (John Horsley), and in this situation, even the father of the kidnapped soldier who assumes he can do the job better than anyone else.  Sometimes difficult to follow, the plot does deliver a solid twist or two late that I didn't see coming.

A story about an American attempt to negotiate a kidnapped soldier sounds pretty serious to me in terms of a movie's tone and level of seriousness.  Why then does this movie rely on these little comedic bits that seem ripped from another much lighter movie?  Walter Abel's Doctor is constantly bumming cigarettes off anyone who will give him one, later claiming 'these things will kill you. That's why I don't smoke.' Buddy Ebsen's Sgt. McColloch is always slipping away to find a score of a baseball game, talking about all his 'dolls' in every city. Peck's Colonel Van Dyke says 'Holy Moses!' so much it could be a drinking game. The only reasonable explanation I can come up with is an attempt (a weak one at that) to humanize these American characters against the evil monstrosity that is the Russians.  The comedy definitely takes you out of the movie though, a completely unnecessary addition to the movie.

Now onto the cast which is pretty good.  I liked Peck's character the best, a young officer who's been worn down some by the nature of his job.  He knows it is a nasty business that has to be done, but it's always been his job.  When Crawford's Mr. Leatherby shows up, he is forced to show the newcomer how nasty his profession can be.  Peck and Crawford have a great chemistry together right from the start. Also look for Rita Gam as Ricki, Peck's girlfriend/secretary, Jill Esmond as one of the prisoners meant to be exchanged, along with Ebsen, Abel, Showatler, and all the other names previously mentioned.

Night People <---TCM trailer (1954): ** 1/2 /**** 

Breakfast at Tiffany's

I can't remember the last movie that threw me off as much as the 1961 classic Breakfast at Tiffany's. I'd never seen it before today and knew nothing about it other than the setting of 1960s New York City, the style, and of course, Audrey Hepburn.  My sister swears by this movie so really, that was my only exposure to it. So over the years, did I convince myself that the movie was something else, something vastly different?  I didn't know what to expect heading into the movie and was quickly surprised by the route this story took.  I don't even know where to start so bear with me.

My biggest preconceived notion of this movie heading into it was that it was the epitome of timeless style, the very beautiful Audrey Hepburn representing this ideal woman that all other women aspire to be. There are posters, books, puzzles, coffee cups, t-shirts, anything at all you care to name with Hepburn on it.  So why does this movie get held in such high regard?  Is it the style alone?  Because honestly, this is an incredibly depressing movie.  It's based on a novella from Truman Capote -- master of weirdness and eccentricity -- and is definitely a casualty of the decade/era it was released.  So here goes, I'll try and be fair.

Washed-up writer Paul Varjak (George Peppard) is moving into his newly furnished New York City apartment when he meets one of the other tenants in the building, Holly Golightly (Hepburn). To say the least, Paul doesn't know what to make of this young woman, a carefree individual who seems to float along wherever life will take her.  She is the oddest of oddballs and lives on a series of whims and gut feelings, not wanting to get pegged down wherever she is or whatever she is doing.  Paul is instantly intrigued (and probably a little attracted) by Holly, but he just can't figure her out.  They seem like such different people, but really, they're almost the same person and as Paul figures out, they belong together.  Can he convince Holly of that though?

Okay, for openers director Blake Edwards is handicapped by 1960s censors and limitations around his storytelling. He is limited by what he can actually do or have characters talk about so instead of actual revelations or explanations we get subtle roundabouts and hints at what is going on.  I was more than a little taken aback to find out that Hepburn's Holly is a call girl and Peppard's Paul is a gigolo.  Really?!? None of this is ever directly addressed, but it's fairly obvious to put 2 and 2 together to make four.  Weirder though, Holly is a call girl/escort who takes the money of the guy she's with and then bails on him, later calling him a 'rat' or 'super-rat.' Paul seems to have one customer -- Patricia Neal's 2-E, a middle-aged married woman -- after giving up a potentially lucrative writing career.

So the stylish duo is a call girl and a gigolo, not a movie breaker in the least, right?  Okay, it did take awhile to get used to that idea, especially in a movie released in theaters in 1961 and held in such high regard some 50 years later.  But that's the least of the problems if you ask me. At a certain point you just accept what the characters are.  It's that the movie doesn't know what it wants to say or where to go.  Are we supposed to support Holly or even like her? In reality, her character is not likable but as a wise IMDB poster explains...'She's pretty so we like her.' Is it a drama or a romantic comedy? Is it neither? Are we supposed to drift along and let the movie wash over us? I was surprised by where the movie went in the last half hour, but it was one in a long line of surprises.

Now where I can understand moviegoers falling in love with 'Tiffany's' is in the casting of Hepburn and Peppard.  Throw aside the fact that both characters are willing to sleep with you for cash.  There hasn't been a more classically beautiful actress in Hollywood before or since Audrey Hepburn.  She's that perfect blend of cuteness and being amazingly sexy. She's headstrong and funny, adorable and cute, vulnerable and exciting, all rolled into one.  The chemistry Hepburn has with Peppard is top-notch and is believable in a way that never makes you question if they're acting.  They're just good together, plain and simple.  Hepburn is the vision of beauty as Holly, a stylish icon that will not be soon forgotten in movie lore.  Yes, her character isn't always likable -- Peppard either to a lesser degree -- but credit to both actors for making Holly and Paul not despicable to the point where you hate them and the movie they're in.

Maybe this is a movie that will hit me differently after I digest it fully in a couple of days, but I doubt it.  As a whole, finished product, it is an odd movie and there's no other way to describe it.  Also in the cast is Buddy Ebsen as Doc, a man from Holly's past, Martin Balsam as O.J., her quasi-agent, and Mickey Rooney in one of the most grossly stereotypical performances I've ever seen, playing an Asian man living in Holly's building.  If it was intended as humor, it falls horrifically short. Too bad because Rooney is typically one of the most reliable character actors around.  All in all, I can't give this a positive rating, but if I was it'd be because I looked at it through romantic comedy-colored glasses.  Hepburn is perfect, Peppard is cool and NYC never looked so stylish.

Breakfast at Tiffany's <---trailer (1961): ** 1/2 /****

Mail Order Bride

Buddy Ebsen had his fair share of success on television, starring in two huge hits -- The Beverly Hillbillies and Barnaby Jones -- and playing a key role in the mega-successful Davy Crockett episodes on Disneyland, but lost in the shuffle are some interesting movies.  Like his George Russel character in the Crockett episodes, Ebsen often played the sidekick, the right hand man to the gent in charge, and he was great at it.  In 1964's Mail Order Bride, the longtime TV star gets a crack at a leading role and succeeds in a big way.

In this semi-comic, semi-serious western, Ebsen plays a cowboy who drifts along the trail minding his own business.  It's the type of character you wouldn't be surprised to see John Wayne or Robert Mitchum play as they did in any number of westerns.  But why this part fits so well within the movie is because it isn't Wayne or Mitchum.  Huge stars like that would have overshadowed the story and the rest of the characters.  With Ebsen though, he does what he does in a solid leading role but knows when to step back and let the supporting players take center stage.

A young hell-raiser named Lee Clark (Keir Dullea) rides home one day to find an older cowboy by the name of Will Lane (Ebsen) working around the ranch, shoeing horses, fixing fences.  Lee isn't much for work and would rather be drinking, gambling or visiting the girls in the backroom of the saloon.  Lane though has a document from Lee's dead father giving him ownership of the ranch until Lee is old enough to handle the place himself.  Nothing seems to calm Clark so Lane thinks of a way to tame him, get a mail order bride who will help him grow up.  He finds Annie Boley (Lois Nettleton), a young widower, who with her son moves onto Lee's spread.  Young Lee has a plan to push Lane out the door, but a friend of his, another drifting cowboy (Warren Oates) has other plans. 

Director Burt Kennedy turns in one of his better efforts here in this light-hearted and good-natured western that for the most part hits all the right notes.  Almost exclusively a director of westerns, Kennedy had a knack for these smaller stories and goes against the grain with almost no gunplay whatsoever here.  The story is as straightforward as a story can get, and the ending is easily predicted about 30 seconds into the movie.  Okay, maybe a little longer than that.  For the filming locations, California stands in for Montana and looks beautiful.  Clark's little spread is picture perfect, set up in a little mountain valley with plenty of water and trees all around.

As drifter Will Lane, Ebsen has a peaceful way about him that makes the character easily likable from the start.  He's been a cowboy all his life, but we never do find out much about him.  The task in front of him is not an easy one, but Lane wants to keep his word to his old partner no matter how difficult his job may be.  And for once, it's nice to see Ebsen get a starring role instead of being pushed back with the rest of the supporting characters.  His Lane does disappear some in the second half, but the story turns its attention more to Dullea's Lee and Nettleton's Annie.  Ebsen is adept as action or comedy, especially the scene where he's looking for the prospective brides that include an older woman, a prude, and a dance hall girl.  His face sells the comedy nicely.

My only other experience with Dullea is in 2001: A Space Odyssey, but this is clearly a strong part for him.  Lee is far from likable and through 40 minutes or so I found myself wishing Ebsen would just pop him one in the face and ride out.  But Dullea brings the character around as he starts to grow up and realize there is more to life than drinking and gambling.  Working with Nettleton's Annie, the duo has some strong chemistry together as they try to figure the other one out.  Still early in his career in movies and playing bit parts on TV, Oates gets to play the friend turned bad guy who looks out for No. 1 above all else.  The confrontation between him and Dullea at the end is a little disappointing but works in terms of storytelling.

This is a Burt Kennedy western, and he rounds out the cast with several recognizable and always reliable western character actors, including Paul Fix as Sheriff Jess Linley, the beautiful Barbara Luna as Marietta, one of the backroom girls who has a history with Lee, Denver Pyle in a funny scene as the angry preacher marrying Lee and Annie, and William Smith as one of Oates' gunhands.  Nothing really sets this western apart from the pack, but I enjoyed it.  Good-natured story with good characters, just don't expect much in the way of action.

Mail Order Bride (1964): ***/****