“Heeere's Johnny!”

“And I hope when I find something that I want to do and I think you would like and come back, that you'll be as gracious in inviting me into your home as you have been…I bid you a very heartfelt good night.”  Those final words rung down the curtain on Johnny Carson’s thirty-season stint as host of NBC’s The Tonight Show (or The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson, as it was officially known), when “The King of Late Night” officially retired on May 22, 1992.  Sadly, Carson never returned to TV save for a small vocal contribution (as himself) on an episode of The Simpsons and a cameo on Late Show with David Letterman in 1994; he left this world for a better hosting gig on January 23, 2005 at the age of 79.  (Correction: I wrote too soon; Mark Murphy e-mailed me to let me know that Johnny also did a monologue on a 1993 NBC special feting Peacock institution Bob Hope on his 90th birthday.  Thanks, Mark!)

Johnny...we'd hardly know ye.

I’m a little fuzzy on the exact time frame, but I remember I was on my way home from my night auditor gig at The Landmark Inn a year or two before Carson’s passing.  I took a taxi that day (I didn’t want to wait for the bus), and the cabbie was listening to a couple of radio jocks holding forth about how The Tonight Show just wasn’t the same since Johnny’s departure and that Jay Leno couldn’t carry Carson’s jockstrap.  One of the hosts—who claimed to know people who know people who know Carson—explained that Johnny had not made a return to the small screen because…well, he kind of danced around the reason but the implication was that the former talk-show host had really “let himself go” (see photo at left).  Then came the observation that he (the jock) would rather watch an obese, bloated Carson drooling all over himself than that poltroon Leno any day of the week.  I’m not proud of this—but I laughed like a hyena at his remark.

Those of you who get the substation Antenna TV in your area are aware that they added reruns of Johnny Carson (the retitled Tonight Show) to their schedule in August of 2015 (the shows from 1972 on, since only a handful of the pre-1972 Tonight Shows have survived due to “wiping”), and occasionally a segment surfaces on The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™ (their presentation, Carson on TCM, went great guns at first before eventually doing a slow vanishing act).  Time Life has released several DVD compilations—notably the 22-disc Johnny and Friends (SRP $199.95), with 61 hours of material—and next Tuesday (July 4) they’ll roll out a new-to-retail DVD collection of nine classic Carson telecasts (on 3 discs—the SRP is $29.95) with the emphasis on appearances by comedians Steve Martin, Robin Williams, and Eddie Murphy.

My good friend Michael Krause at Foundry Communications graciously gifted me with a screener for this upcoming release, which not only features these telecasts in their entirety (the musical guests are often excised from the Antenna TV repeats for copyright reasons) but the original network commercials as well.  This appealed to the old-time radio fan in me (I love to listen to broadcasts that have the commercials intact), though I admittedly only watched one of the shows with commercials (you have the option of watching without—something that I’m sure would please my father if Carson reruns were his particular meat).  That would be the oldest show in this collection, a July 21, 1976 telecast on the disc spotlighting Steve Martin.  For an hour-and-fifteen minutes (the Carson show was a ninety-minute program from 1966 to 1980) I got to reminisce about taking the Nestea plunge and how Heinz ketchup is “slow good” (voiceover by Casey Kasem) …not to mention seeing familiar faces like Betty White (plugging Spray ‘n Wash) and Doris Roberts (a Glade air-freshener commercial—she won a Clio award for those spots).

I cannot come up with the name of the actor playing Doris' husband in this commercial, and it's nagging at me because I've seen him in so many other things.  (It's hell getting old.)

Wild and crazy guy.

In high school, I thought Steve Martin was the funniest man to walk the planet.  I owned all four of his stand-up albums, mimicked all of his routines (“Excuuuuuse me!”), and relished every time he hosted Saturday Night Live.  With the passage of time, however…well, I find myself pondering what the hell I thought was so funny about the guy.  (Now I know why Los Parentes Yesteryear looked at me so strangely…though that may not have entirely been all Martin’s doing.)  His 1976 appearance on Carson features much of his “wild-and-crazy-guy” shtick, and to be honest, I enjoyed the other guests on that particular telecast more—Jimmy Stewart, plugging The Shootist (1976) but also reminiscing about It’s a Wonderful Life (1946), and Karen Black…who seemed to be on some sort of narcotic that night but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what it was.  A May 21, 1982 program brings Steve back along with Sylvester Stallone—both stars plug their current movies (Sly’s Rocky III; Martin’s Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid) but again, because I’m just weird this way, I got more of a kick out of the “Stump the Band” segment…because one of the songs suggested to stymie Tommy Newsome and the NBC Orchestra (Doc Severinsen, amusingly enough, was out of town—performing a concert in my home town of Charleston, WV) was Sunday Driving, a novelty tune recorded by Jerry Lewis.  The last show on the Martin DVD is the most fun: a December 19, 1991 outing that allows Martin to plug Father of the Bride (1991) and it also features one of my favorite funny ladies, Cathy Ladman, along with singer Leon Redbone (performing Christmas Island).

Nice threads, Eddie.

The third disc in this collection highlights three 1982 appearances from Eddie Murphy, who at that time was wowing SNL viewers weekly with his shtick—the July 30th telecast mentions that Murphy is working on his first feature film (the one that put him on the map), 48 HRS.  I’m quite fond of many of Eddie’s movies—48 HRS., Beverly Hills Cop (1984), The Golden Child (1986—don’t think I can’t hear you judging me out there)—and enjoyed many of his SNL characters (prison poet Tyrone Green never failed to make me fall to the floor), but his stand-up always left me stone-faced, particularly the homophobic Honeymooners bit he did in his 1983 HBO TV special Delirious.  (Try explaining it to both of your parents, who decided to watch with me.)  A February 10, 1982 appearance has him starting his routine by encouraging the audience to shout out the N-word…and I don’t mean “Norbit.”  (Edgy!)  If you’re a Murphy devotee, you’ll enjoy seeing the twenty-year-old trading yuks with Johnny on the cusp of Murphy’s phenomenal stardom; his January 1, 1982 debut on the Tonight Show is presented in this collection in its entirety.

Robin Williams, circa 1984.

If you need a solid reason to pick up this collection, the second disc—featuring three shows with the manic Robin Williams as guest—more than justifies the purchase.  Just as I prefer Eddie Murphy in movies, I thought Williams was at his best when he was simply turned loose on The Tonight Show, where his machine-gun stream-of-consciousness would always reduce the host to helpless laughter.  (It’s no surprise that Robin was the guest on the penultimate Carson Tonight Show telecast, along with Bette Midler.)  Williams’ April 3, 1984 appearance allows him to plug what I think is his finest film comedy, Moscow on the Hudson (1984—this and the 1983 movie he did with Walter Matthau, The Survivors, are my favorites) and his co-guest Phyllis Newman reminds the audience multiple times that her husband is lyricist-playwright Adolph Green (something that both Robin and Johnny start to mock after a fashion).  A January 10, 1991 show (with Steve Lawrence) coincides with Robin’s turn in Awakenings (1990); Williams relates the incident where he accidentally hit co-star Robert DeNiro in the nose while filming and it’s hysterical.

Comedy greatness.

The final telecast on this disc is a September 19, 1991 free-for-all that allows Williams (plugging 1991’s The Fisher King) to riff alongside his one-time Mork and Mindy co-star (and acknowledged influence) Jonathan Winters.  Honest to my grandma, I laughed so hard during this show I was literally in tears.  Winters enters the stage wearing a Union uniform (his first words are “We lost the fort—the Indians were sober…we were drunk this time.“) and when Park Overall (of Empty Nest) comes out and asks Johnny “Why is he wearing a Yankee uniform?” Jonathan comes back with “Cause I’m a Yankee—we’re gonna go through Chickamauga twice!”  It is classic comedy, and while I’m not a religious or spiritual individual, I like to think that if there is a better world after this one these two mad geniuses are cutting up in the afterlife to thunderous appreciative laughter and applause.  Thanks again to Michael for the screener—if you’re a fan of Johnny Carson, you’re going to want this one for the DVD shelf.

Addendum: Both the Mayor of Toobworld (Dr. Tobias O'Brien) and member of the TDOY faithful Mark Murphy have identified the actor with Doris Roberts in the Glade commercial as character veteran J.J. Barry.  The blog is grateful for their tireless efforts in small screen research.

The state of the blog (with fabulous prizes!)

It seems like every time I return to the blog after an extended absence I always find myself profusely apologizing for that absence.  So I won’t ignore tradition, and I’ll get the act of contrition out of the way: mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

The disappearance of posts for over two months can be attributed to a number of factors…but chiefly among them is that I have been sidelined with a lack of motivation.  A few years back, I made a casual observation that with the onslaught of the social media phenomenon, the art of blogging was in danger of being threatened; platforms like Facebook and Twitter allow individuals to accomplish pretty much the same as a blog post without having to expend a great deal of energy.  (And for someone like me—who has raised inactivity and laziness to an art form—it’s a siren song that’s mighty hard to resist.)

I don’t want to sell myself short, however: I’ve kept in the game with both blogging for Radio Spirits and my “Where’s That Been?” column at ClassicFlix…so don’t pour salt on this slug just yet.  But both of these (plus the lucrative liner note projects for RS) do keep me occupied—here’s an example: I had wanted to contribute to the Classic Film and TV Café’s “National Classic Movie Day” blogathon in May…but that event coincided with my wrapping up some liner notes for a Green Hornet set (which you should check out—it contains a number of uncirculated episodes), and when I completed that I was just too wiped to work on anything else.  (So a “mea culpa” to friend Rick for bailing on that.)

As such, until I can get back into the swing of blogging again, this post will be a “catch-up” on the comings and goings here at Rancho Yesteryear.  As the cliché goes—there’s good news and bad news.  The jubilant bulletin is that my sister Kat and her family have relocated to North Carolina (after spending the past three years in the Pacific Northwest); stemming from the fact that her partner has obtained gainful employment in the Piedmont.  To say that my mother did cartwheels (and with her recent back surgery, this was a revelation) at these developments would be an understatement, since she has missed her grandson so.

To a dee-luxe apartment in the sky.

Speaking of my nephew, he has just returned from a two-week engagement at summer camp…where it appears that every photo of him taken during that experience found him participating in some sort of water activity.  (I joked to his moms that they might want to check between his fingers and toes for webbing.)  He talked non-stop for two hours on the drive home to the new Double K Ranch, then crashed hard in the last hour.  Davis has also apparently developed a taste for Cheerwine, the bubbly cherry soda concoction that has been a regional favorite since 1917 (though it can also be purchased in other sections of the U.S. of A.)

Sister Kat hasn’t made the complete transition to NC yet; she will finish up her camp director duties for the summer and then…quien sabe?  Seriously—Mom asked her what her plans were and Kat replied: “I don’t know…but at least my hair will be perfect.”  (This is a reference to the fact that during her sojourn in the PNW, she searched high and low for a decent haircut; she missed the stylist in Athens who maintained her perfect coif, and now will have the opportunity to continue her patronage since the salon is a little closer to her new address.)

Sadly, into every life a little rain must fall.  (This is the “bad news” portion of the post, so if you want to skip the next seven paragraphs to get to the swag giveaway I won’t think any less of you.)  Los Parentes Yesteryear and I just recently celebrated our first year anniversary of moving to Pixley Winterville, and the latest bill from DISH confirmed what we had been dreading for some time: they are raising the rate on our service.  (Gigantically, as character veteran Don Barclay might say.)  Since the ‘rents and I are all subsisting on what is often referred to as “fixed incomes,” there just wasn’t going to be any way of reconciling such an increase in the family budget.  (I have railed about this in the past, as you may well be aware, but it bears repeating: both the cable TV and satellite companies are staffed with human-weasel hybrids.)

I only wish mi padre had let me conduct the negotiations with DISH, which occurred this past Saturday; I had previously done some first-rate horse trading with AT&T U-Verse when they wanted to spike our TV bill (though for reasons that I to this day can’t figure out they kept our monthly service the same once we agreed to put in an extra phone line…that we never, ever used).  But unfortunately, once my father gets on the phone, he’s transformed into one of those unpleasant old men constantly yelling at kids to stay off his lawn.  (No offense, Bill.)  He wound up cutting our TV package to the bare bone, and the two most important casualties were getTV and The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™.

I’m not going to lie to you.  I was a little pouty at this news.  (Okay, more like a lot pouty.)  I realize that “living high on the hog,” TV wise, is not a viable option for the Yesteryear Trio, but as I explained to Mom once I had finished a few stiff belts: we don’t have too many entertainment options here in B.F.E.  The only other service available to us (we’re too far out for cable, and U-verse doesn’t service our area either) is DirecTV, and they’re an even bigger band of pirates.  At the time I signed us up, I took special pains to explain to her that DISH was probably going to gouge us once the year was out.  She told me—“What else can we do?  We have to have an Internet connection, and we have to have cable.”  (A lot can happen in a year, I guess.)

My Facebook pal Kingo Gondo suggested sometime back that I look into the option of getting an outside antenna so that I could receive those substations DISH refuses to carry (MeTV, Antenna TV, etc.).  I looked into this seconds after I found out about Dad’s DISH dealings.  Helpfully, the website at which I was pricing the antenna directed me to another website that would let me know what stations we would receive.  They ask you: “Will this antenna be installed 30 feet above ground level?”

Since I wanted to avoid those hassles (I had planned on getting an indoor one) I didn’t check that box…and when I pressed the “send” button, I learned that we would only be able to receive one channel.  Okay, says I, I’ll try it again—maybe I can con someone into installing the antenna outside.  “Send.”  The answer remained…one channel.  That station is WGTA, our Heroes & Icons affiliate…which we get on DISH already.

I probably would have taken this news a little better—oh, who am I kidding; I’m a TCM junkie, and I remember the days when we didn’t have it…they were dark ones indeed—were it not for the fact that most of the crap my father watches (local news, History Channel, MSDNC) remained intact in the whittled-down package.  What a coinky-dink!  (The ‘rents did lose their beloved Braves games…though an occasional contest will show up on ESPN and “Big Fox” every now and then.  To say that my mother was pissed doesn’t even begin to cover it, though.  (Earlier today, my father switched over to TVLand—as is his habit—to watch Gunsmoke reruns and then remembered we said hasta la vista to that channel as well.)

Because I had a little time this weekend to reflect on these developments, I came away with the take that while I’m not jumping for joy at how all this turned out (particularly since I was helping out a few cable/satellite-deprived folks by grabbing and burning to disc programs/movies that had attracted their interest) perhaps there is a silver lining on all this.  After all, it’s not like I’m starved for entertainment around here.  I already socked away a lot of Tee Cee Em/getTV programming on the DVR (I think the gauge was at 49 percent), so there’s that to get through…and I have what scientists have measured as a metric “buttload” of material in the dusty Thrilling Days of Yesteryear archives.  I’m not humblebragging, you understand—it’s just that a lot of these DVDs have yet to be liberated from their shrink wrap; that’s how terrible my habit is.  I’ve been meaning to get the blog up and running again, so this might provide a much needed kick-in-the-pants.

So to celebrate the return of the blog (okay—everybody back to the post!) how about I give out some Radio Spirits freebies?  Back in August of last year, I was tapped to do the liner notes for Suspense at Work—a 10-CD collection of broadcasts from “radio’s outstanding theatre of thrills.”  The shows in this set all have a common theme: they’re set against a background of the workplace, where ambitious individuals resort to murderous mayhem to get ahead in the company…or the mundane monotony of punching a time clock is interrupted by robberies, embezzlement, etc.  You can always count on Suspense for first-rate radio drama, and some of the stars gracing these broadcasts include Bonita Granville, Edmund O’Brien, Ann Blyth, Van Heflin, Ronald Colman, and Richard Widmark.  (I’m partial to “To None a Deadly Drug,” a nail-biter from October 25, 1955 that features OTR veterans like Harry Bartell, Jack kruschen, Barbara Eiler, and Eve McVeagh.)

It’s been 2-3 months since I did a giveaway here at TDOY…so the usual “thirty-day rule” won’t apply here.  What will apply is that if you’d like an opportunity to win one of these sets (I have two to hand out) just drop me an e-mail with “Suspense at Work” in the subject header (that way I know your intentions are honorable, suh, and you’re not some bit of spam from the wrong side of the tracks) at igsjrotr(at)gmail(dot)com.  The deadline for this contest will be 11:59pm EDT next Monday, July 18; I will select two winners via the all-powerful numbers generator at Random.org and inform them of their good fortune so that they can provide me with snail-mail details (so that I might send their swag on its way).  Remember, faithful readers—Thrilling Days of Yesteryear is the phrase that pays!

My Heroes have always been Icons

Yesterday, for unknown whys and wherefores, my father decided to strike up a conversation with me about the old Steve McQueen TV western Wanted: Dead or Alive.  You may remember from a previous post that I capitalized on a Starz/Encore freeview several months back by building an episode collection of the entire series (I obtained 92 out of 94), but I worked on this out of the watchful eye of Dear Ol’ Dad, who doesn’t often comprehend how these things work.  (Which is to be expected of the man whose favorite function on the remote is the “mute” button.)  So I was curious as to how he would have access to the series.

As it turns out, he watched it the other morning (while Mumsy and I collected groceries) on WGTA-TV Atlanta—a new channel acquisition appearing on our DISH Network system.  Digital subchannels like MeTV and Antenna TV are a rarity on DISH; for unexplained reasons, they won’t carry them—the only such station that DISH carries (as of this post) is GetTV, and I don’t need to rehash why this is a wonderful way to stoke my classic television obsession.  (Well, I suppose I could also include Laff; DISH replaced Blue Highways TV in March with this subchannel devoted to recent comedy movies and sitcoms.)  So seeing WGTA in the lineup made my little heart go pitter pat: they’re a Heroes & Icons affiliate, and H&I has sprinkled its ho-hum rerun schedule (Hunter, 21 Jump Street) with delectable classic goodies including 12 O’Clock High, Combat!, Wagon Train, and Broken Arrow.

I’ve seen the 1950 James Stewart film that inspired the TV version of Broken Arrow, but I’ve never actually seen an episode of the small screen version.  (My mother announced that she has, and she was kind of smug about it.)  I’m just pleased that DISH added the station (they removed the Toccoa, GA station that had a fairly impressive rerun library many months back), and perhaps there will come a day when I will be able to rejoin my MeTV brethren and sistren.  Apologies for the dearth of posts this month, by the way; I've been distracted by various shiny objects but I hope to have a more robust posting schedule in May.

I hope I’ve still got the hang of this blogging thing…

Well, since I’ve been officially in slack mode for the past month I figured it might be a good time to throw something up on the blog in the form of an explanation for that slackitude.  There have been a number of important goings-on here at Rancho Yesteryear that have had a profound effect on my blogging output, and while I haven’t been able to completely iron out the kinks I’m hoping that some of the measures I’ve taken to mow the grass that’s grown will ensure a bit more activity and the return of some of our beloved (and not-so-beloved) features.

A few weeks back, my office chair decided to put in its retirement papers…and since I’m still interviewing candidates for a replacement I haven’t been able to sit down in front of the computer for prolonged periods of time.  Right now, I have two temp chairs filling in—one of which leaves my ass numb after ten minutes…the other fifteen.  I’ve got a third chair that does rather well when I have to sit and watch movies…but it comes up woefully short whenever typing and other computer-related duties need attending.  (Clearly the solution involves funding for a new chair…but that’s a bit down the road a ways.)

America’s favorite (and still wacky) elderly couple—or “Los Parentes Yesteryear,” as Brandie of True Classics calls them—have both been experiencing some mild health concerns of late; it’s nothing too serious, just the usual complaints when you’re past the “spring chicken” stage…but nevertheless, it’s a situation that I’ve had to monitor closely.  As such, I felt it was better for all involved if I relinquished my position as associate editor at ClassicFlix in order to free up time for this, and so I tendered my resignation at the end of January.  I’ve not completely severed ties with CF; I will still contribute the occasional movie review and write their “Where’s That Been? (It Must Have Fallen Behind the File Cabinet)” column on a monthly basis—you can access those reviews by clicking on the ClassicFlix logo in the sidebar on the right, and I hope to also include links to these reviews in the “Movies” section of that sidebar before too long.

I included the above picture to show you that the ‘rents are still in the pink as they pose for a birthday snap (Dad's 82nd) with their favorite grandson.

I guess the big news around the House of Yesteryear is that in mid-January, the Entertainment Committee got together and voted to rid ourselves of CharredHer Cable…because my mother had grown weary of the expense (here’s where I make the old joke that the bill was large enough to be a William).  I was appointed head of a sub-committee to look into cheaper options (my fault, really—this is what happens when you leave the room to get a refill on iced tea) and our first choice was DirecTV…but when the competent DirecTV technician came out to install the dish, he informed us that it would not be feasible due to the large amount of “forest” surrounding the house.  (We do not live in B.F.E., by the way—it's just our neighborhood is rather heavily shaded, treewise.)

Being denied DirecTV wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because on the day the tech was coming out to install (or in our case, not install) the system, the word came down that DirecTV was no longer carrying The Weather Channel…a development that displeased my mother, because watching The Weather Channel is just something old people do.  The dispute, from what I have gleaned reading accounts on the Internets, is not unlike the recent kerfuffle between Charter and Atlanta’s WSB-TV; The Weather Channel is demanding a payment increase from DirecTV, and DirecTV has responded with sand and some pounding instructions.

That’s all well and good…but this doesn’t explain the brouhaha that’s going on between DirecTV and INSP: DirecTV has removed that station from its lineup despite the fact that INSP doesn’t charge them anything to carry the family-friendly programming cable channel.  (The fact that INSP has both The Virginian and The High Chaparral would seem to me having it available to your subscribers a must.)  If you’re a DirecTV subscriber, and you’d like to make your opinion known on this issue, the details are below (click to embiggen):

Well, since DirecTV was out…we had to go with Plan B, and on January 17 we welcomed AT&T U-Verse into our home.  I’ve heard mixed reactions to U-Verse (though admittedly more than a few of them are on those Comcast Xfinity commercials…and we don’t get Xfinity in our area) but we’ve not had any problems with it so far.  We sprung for the HD option, and to say that both parents have fallen in love with it would be a mild understatement; Mom has been raving about it ever since it was installed.  There are two big pluses with the U-Verse: 1) we’ve got a DVR now, which allows me to record movies that I’d like to watch without having to stay up later than normal or set my alarm for same, and 2) both televisions—the one in the living room and my room—get the same programming…which means The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™ is now available for viewing in me boudoir.  (Oh, and we get both The Weather Channel and INSP…so suck it, DirecTV.)

There were a few sacrifices made: the U-Verse system doesn’t carry our Me-TV affiliate (I’ve had a couple of people tell me on Facebook and Twitter that it’s available on their systems but it’s not made it here yet), and I also lost Antenna TV and Movies!  But on the other hand, I watched those stations only because I couldn’t get Tee Cee Em in the back bedroom.  We’re also getting the Encore channels—which means my Gunsmoke habit has started up again via Encore Westerns, and we also have access to FX Movies, IFC and Sundance.  (Most of these, sadly, are now riddled with commercials, for which I can only say: boooooo.)

Several of my friends have successfully cut the cable umbilical cord, and I say more power to them; I would love to do likewise but the ‘rents have got a sports jones that constantly needs scratched and not having cable simply wouldn’t be an option for them.  (As for Father—well, he’s bummed because The Pentagon Military Channel isn’t available in HD.)  What we’ll probably do is keep U-Verse for a year…and then if we can’t make a deal with Monty Hall when the year is up we’ll go back to Charter…and then play one off the other the way people used to do by moving from apartment to apartment when the rent was due.  (Don’t try this at home, kids.)

So, I’m hoping to get some reviews of the movies I’ve been DVRing like a madman up soon, and also pick up where we left off on Serial Saturdays and Doris Day(s) in the bargain.  Working on some outside projects kept me from cobbling together a Coming Distractions in January…but it’s the usual 31 Days of Oscar programming on TCM, so you’ve not missed much.  I do want to mention that the 31 Days of Oscar Blogathon is currently underway in the same time period (February 1-March 3), hosted by Once Upon a Screen, Outspoken & Freckled and Paula’s Cinema Club—I haven’t officially RSVP’d, but if all goes right I may put forth a post for that.

I have, however, committed to the Sleuthathon—a ‘thon that will doff our respective deerstalkers to the movie and TV detectives of yesteryear, and will be hosted by our good friend Fritzi at Movies Silently.  When I approached her about this on Twitter, I originally suggested doing a piece on my favorite small screen crime drama of all time, Naked City…and then a closer examination of the rules and regs revealed to me that the focus is just on detectives—cops is verboten.  So I had to change to an examination of the cult detective series Johnny Staccato, starring future auteur John Cassavetes.  The Sleuthathon gets underway on March 16th (it’s a two-day affair), so skate on over if you’re interested in participating.

Three other blogathons that I have not officially inked a deal with (okay, more like two) but will probably throw in once I see how my schedule looks include the Big Stars on the Small Screen Blogathon, which will be hosted at How Sweet It Was on March 20 and 21.  (Previously unknown trivia fact: the proprietress of How Sweet it Was and Once Upon a Screen are one and the same!  Think about it—have you ever seen a picture of them together?  I thought not…)

The Diamonds and Gold Blogathon, hosted by the gal reverently referred to here at Rancho Yesteryear as Our Lady of Great Caftan and the indestructible Rich from Wide Screen World, is scheduled to take place from April 12-13.  Caftan Woman’s subject is compelling in its simplicity: select an actor or actress who continued to work in films well into their twilight years…and ignore the fact that a good many of them probably had to, because 1) actors have to act and 2) some of them also have to eat.  I’ve told Her Caftaness that TDOY will review one of my very favorite silver screen Westerns, The Ox-Bow Incident (1943), which features a man who continued to want to perform even after they nailed his coffin shut: Harry Davenport.  (Okay, I may have made this last part up.)

Last—but only because I grouped these by date—and certainly not least is The Romantic Comedy Blogathon, hosted from May 1-4 by Carole & Co. and Backlots, a formidable pair of bloggers that nobody can deny (whoopee!).  The title is self-explanatory; it’s a tribute to the great romantic/screwball comedies of the movies, and I do plan to participate…I just need to nail down a topic.  It’s one that’s right up the ol’ Thrilling Days of Yesteryear alley.

So if you’ve been sitting around and staring at a blank blog, wondering what cinematic subjects you could possibly explore, you have no excuse for not participating in any of these fine events.  (Well, unless you’re trapped in a cave right now.  Or dead.  But we’ll need a note from your mother.)  Okay, my ass is now telling me that my fifteen minutes is up, so I’ll leave things where they’re at and get back to the blog soon.

The MOVIES! are great medicine

Yesterday, my mother went through the onscreen schedule to see if there was anything on to justify the enormous amount of capital we give CharredHer Cable each month, and upon deciding that nothing was to her liking on The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™ (it was a day filled with musicals, a movie genre that is verboten in the House of Yesteryear) I noticed that there was a station listed below it at Channel 165 (TCM is 164) that read simply “Movie.”  They were showing at that time the 1941 Lloyd Nolan “Michael Shayne” movie Sleepers West.

“I know that’s a movie,” I cracked, “but what is that channel called?”  I started to do a little hunting via the Internets but before I could track the info down the channel went to a commercial break.  During that time, they did a station I.D.—we were informed that we were watching MOVIES!

MOVIES! is a digital subchannel that went on the air this past January 2013, and is a joint venture between Weigel Broadcasting (the father of my current wife, Me-TV) and the Fox Television Stations subsidiary of 20th Century-Fox.  Its schedule is crammed with movies old and new; there’s a great deal of product from the Fox coffers but I’ve also seen contributions from the Columbia and Paramount library as well.  Mom has now adopted the channel as her new best friend in the afternoons…because the only alternatives are the bloviators on MSNBC or reruns of Law & Order: Criminal Intent.

The good thing for me, however, is that because it’s a digital substation I can pick it up on my bedroom TV with very little effort (just like Antenna, Me-TV and INSP) and have it on in the background while I’m working.  I’m not able to get TCM at my work area because those rat bastards at CharredHer told me in no uncertain terms that we need an extra cable box for that…so I sent them a bucket of sand with pounding instructions.

MOVIES! is by no means perfect—as I mentioned in the above paragraph, there are commercial breaks…but I’ve become accustomed to that folderol by now—and besides, they are not as numerous and interruptive as that once-proud cable channel that now goes only by its initials (Ay Em Cee) because they don’t show anything resembling an “American Movie Classic.”  (This is a direct quote from my mother: “I won’t watch AMC anymore.  Their movies are shitty.”)  Before a showing of Hatari! (1962) this a.m., there was an honest-to-my-grandma disclaimer that read: “This movie has not been time formatted in order to show more commercials.”  (Prompting my father to ask: “What in the hell are you cheering about?”)  They will, however, edit movies that have naughty language or inappropriate nudity and/or sexual content—because there are kids watching, ferchrissake!—but if you’re a classic movies aficionado this shouldn’t matter a great deal.

The other nitpick about MOVIES! is that they don’t seem to have a standard regarding the letterboxing of movies: the showing of Hatari! was the pan-and-scan version, while last night’s Chinatown (1974) presentation was letterboxed (again, some of the language was bleeped out).  Of course, I was only interested in having Mr. Moto Takes a Vacation (1939) on while I was completing a few tasks, so those two factors do not enter into it.  I noticed on their schedule that they’ve also got Charlie Chan in Honolulu (1938) on this month; nice to see that there’s a place for the venerable sleuth since there have been many protests about those classics being shown in the past.

If you click here, you can find out if MOVIES! is available in your area—they’ve got just a handful of affiliates right now, but I imagine that number will grow within the coming year.  It’s not going to replace TCM, but for the TCM-impaired it’s better than nothing.

With the positive buzz in sales on eBay—and if any member of the TDOY faithful has purchased anything, I thank you gigantically (I know my good friend Federal Operator 99 has)—and my other outside assignments I know contributions have been spotty with regards to the blog; hopefully I’ll be able to rectify this soon.  I did want to give you a heads-up on a couple of more upcoming blogathons…

…the first coming from our good friend Rick at the Classic Film & TV Café.  It’s the Hammer Halloween Blogathon, which will get underway from October 21 through 25.  The title is pretty self-explanatory: the movies to be covered will be those wonderful horror films that were sired in the stables of Britain’s Hammer Film Productions—Horror of Dracula (1958), Curse of the Werewolf (1961), etc.  If you’re interested in participating, sashay on over to the Café for the rules and regs…but don’t tarry too long, since most of the good ones are being snapped up as I write.

And longtime TDOY compadre VP19 is going to expand on last year’s successful The Great Recasting (which was held from July 27-28 by Frankly, My Dear and In the Mood) by serving up The Great Silent Recasting (think of it as a prequel); a blogathon in which participants will take current box office hits and restyle them as entries from the silent era—sort of like this:

I found out about this at Movies, Silently by the way—I guess she had originally planned to co-host but has now dropped out in order to spend more time with her family.  (Oh, stop it—it’s a political joke…)  Again, if this is the sort of thing that stirs your creative juices (although I think there’s a state statute against that in Georgia) mosey on over to Carole & Co. and sign up.

In the meantime, here’s that wacky nephew of mine frolicking by a fountain to remind us that summer is slowly ebbing away and that soon fall will be upon us…well, except in Georgia (there’s a statute against that, too).

Riders of Death Valley – Chapter 1: Death Marks the Trail

This week’s edition of Serial Saturdays kicks off the inaugural chapter of a brand-spanking new chapter play…though when I use that term, I mean it in the sense that it is new to Thrilling Days of Yesteryear.  Released on July 1, 1941 by Universal, Riders of Death Valley was promoted as “the million dollar serial”…though the jury long ago decided that the concept of the studio actually putting that amount of money into the production is pure road apples.

Granted, there’s an impressive cast in this one—which we’ll introduce in a minute—and the production values were a little loftier than the usual Universal shoot-‘em-up cliffhanger; so much so that stock footage from this one turned up in countless western serials and B-oaters churned out by the studio in its wake.  My BBFF Stacia mused on a number of occasions while dissecting Raiders of Ghost City (1944) whether the stock footage in that one originated in a more exciting narrative…and though I can’t say for certain, there’s a good bet that some of Riders was borrowed for Raiders.

The million-dollar budget seems more likely to have comprised the amount of advertising promoting the serial, including a lavish pressbook for exhibitors.  Because of the hype, a goodly number of serial fans tend to dismiss this one for retribution’s sake…and that really does Riders of Death Valley a disservice.  I’m not saying Riders doesn’t have its faults: its plot is straight out of Westerns 101 (bad guys try to take a mine that does not belong to them) and most of it is extended chase sequences—you often have six good guys on the run from two or three bad guys, which seems a little…peculiar.  (The scribe who came up with the story for Riders, Oliver Drake, once joked that because Universal had had success with a previous serial entitled Sky Raiders and one that followed Riders called Sea Raiders he was surprised the studio didn’t call this one Land Raiders.)  Some of the cliffhangers are pretty weak tea, and though the interplay between stars Dick Foran and Buck Jones is enjoyable it often seems like, as Hans J. Wollstein once pointed out, Jones is “perhaps the highest paid B-western comedy relief in history.”

Also, too: my DVD copy of this is the one released by VCI Entertainment in 2006.  Alpha Video also released a version, and while I have not watched that one I’ve had one or two people tell me the VCI release is the better quality of the two.  Unfortunately, the company chose to “watermark” its logo throughout each chapter a number of times, apparently at the bequest of the person who secured them the print.  Some people tear their hair out at things like this: my personal take is that while it is an inconvenience, it’s not something for which I will contemplate homicide.  (But you’ll probably see the watermark in some of the screen caps, so I thought I’d give you a heads-up.)

As the opening credits begin, we are treated to the first of what will be a total of fifteen renditions of Ride Along, a stirring Stout-Hearted Men type of song specifically composed by Milton Rosen and Everett Carter for Riders of Death Valley…and one that has already worn out its welcome with the first stanza.  To compound this agony, the serial also makes use of Felix Mendelssohn’s Fingal’s Cave Overture…which I thought we had abandoned with Don Winslow of the Navy (1942).  (As always…I’m simply not that lucky.)  A friend of mine on Facebook humorously pointed out to me that having seen Winslow before Riders, he kept expecting a submarine to turn up in Death Valley whenever the song appeared on the soundtrack.  Behind the credits, we find a team of ridin’ cowboys, so let us introduce them to you now.

Dick Foran gets top billing as Jim Benton, the de facto leader of the gang—in fact, the gang of good guys is frequently referred to throughout the serial as “Benton Riders.”  Foran could very well be called “the matinee idol of B movies;” he started out as a band singer and was then signed to a contract by Warner Brothers to be a supporting player—his best-known Warner’s gig is probably that of Bette Davis’ would-be paramour in The Petrified Forest (1936).  He also made quite a few B-westerns for WB, and then later moved to Universal and did the same for them while being versatile enough to appear in such movies as The Mummy’s Hand (1940) and Ride ‘em Cowboy (1942), an Abbott & Costello romp.  This was actually Foran’s second Western serial for Universal: his first was 1940’s Winners of the West, in which he co-starred with Anne Nagel, previously seen here on Serial Saturdays in both Don Winslow of the Navy and The Green Hornet (1940).

In the role of Pancho Lopez is Leo Carrillo…and yes, considering that Carrillo later played Pancho in both several Cisco Kid programmers and the 1950-56 TV series, this is kind of spooky to say the least.  Carrillo was a master of dialects, and it would do him a disservice to simply dismiss him as Cisco’s sidekick: his movie credits include The Guilty Generation (1931), Four Frightened People (1934), If You Could Only Cook (1935) and History is Made at Night (1937).

And as Borax Bill—though I don’t think it’s “borax” in the sense of the twenty-mule team and soap—we have our old pal Guinn “Big Boy” Williams: a character legend that appeared in a gazillion B-pictures and westerns usually as a quick-to-anger but well-meaning lunkhead.  Williams appears in such films as The Glass Key (1935—in the part that William Bendix played in the better-known 1942 version), Dodge City (1939), Castle on the Hudson (1940), You’ll Never Get Rich (1941) and Station West (1948).  I don’t know if Antenna TV is still running those repeats of Circus Boy on the weekends but I used to catch Guinn in those on occasion, as Pete the canvas man.

Oh, and though he’s mentioned in the opening credits (he just doesn’t get his very own picture), character great Glenn Strange is also riding with Jim Benton and his boys, and he answers to “Tex.”  The man who would later become famous both as the Frankenstein monster (after Karloff said “no mas”) and bartender Sam Noonan on Gunsmoke is no stranger to the B-western, but he also had bit parts in such serials as Flash Gordon (1936), The Lone Ranger Rides Again (1939) and Flying G-Men (1939).

Our heroes dismount just in time for the orchestra to strike up Fingal’s Cave.  (Oh, movies are magic!)  Borax Bill makes his way over to a spring to wash the dust out of his throat, and we welcome (okay, maybe that’s not the word I should use) the first of many “quarrels” between B.B. and his pal Pancho.

PANCHO: Here—why you want to put your dirty face in my horse’s water?

BORAX: Who, me?

PANCHO: Yeah, you!  (As Borax finishes and gets to his feet) Don’t you know I gotta held your horse and you put germans in the water?

BORAX: Oh, crawl under a rock…

Okay, so it’s not Noel Coward.  But Jim and Tex find all this tres amusing…and I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that they spend a lot of time outdoors.

TEX: Aimin’ to camp here, Jim?

JIM: No, we gotta go on to Stovepipe Wells and meet Smokey…

BORAX (looking off into the distance): You ain’t gonna meet Smokey in Stovepipe Wells today…

PANCHO: Hey, look!  There comes Smokesie now!

Smokesie…er, Smokey, is a Benton rider played by another character great:  Noah Beery, Jr.  Best known to us couch potatoes as Joseph “Rocky” Rockford on TV’s greatest private-eye series of all time, The Rockford Files, the son of Noah, Sr. (and nephew of Wallace) also has an extensive B-western resume while appearing in such serials as Ace Drummond (1936) and Overland Mail (1942).

SMOKEY: Hey, Jim—Kirby and Davis is havin’ a meetin’ in the Panamint Saloon this afternoon…they’re organizin’ a miners’ protective association…

BORAX: Them hombres ain’t aimin’ to protect nobody but themselves…

JIM: You’re right, Borax…

“Your grammar is atrocious…but you’re right…”

JIM: …if Kirby and Davis put over that protective association they’ll have control over every claim in Death Valley…

PANCHO: I guess purty soon all the miners is gonna be workin’ for them…no, Mr. Jim Benton?

TEX: For once you’re right, Pancho…

PANCHO: I think, uh, maybe we went to that meeting…no?

JIM: You’re right…let’s get movin’…

BORAX: Hey—how come they didn’t hold the meetin’ tonight…it’d be a lot easier for everybody to get there…?

JIM: That’s a cinch to figure out, Borax…

PANCHO: When men of Mr. Kirby and Mr. Davis don’t want all the people to go there, no?

JIM: That’s right, Pancho…

“And you could do with a little cracking of the English books, too.”

JIM: …they only want their friends and the miners they know they can control…

SMOKEY: So…we’d better get ramblin’ now…huh?

You guys should have gotten ramblin’ a couple of dialogue passages back and maybe discussed all this while riding.  (I don’t know what they’re gonna talk about on the way to Panamint. “A lot of weather we’ve been having lately, huh?”)  Jim tells Smokey to stay behind to rest his horse (this is a plot device that will pay dividends soon) and the rest of his riders mount up and ride to…

Panamint!  I remember when they used to sponsor Bob Hope, by the way.  (Panamint…now with extra Irium!)  Okay, now that I’ve got those jokes out of my system we drop on into the Panamint Saloon, owned by prominent bidnessman Joseph Kirby (James Blaine).  His partner in no-goodism is Rance Davis, played by SBBN crush Monte Blue (whom I admittedly often confuse with cowboy star Monte Hale—do not ask me why, because I have no explanation) and the third man attending the meeting in the backroom of the saloon is lackey Dan Gordon, as essayed by William Hall.

KIRBY: This association will give us absolute control over every once of gold mined in Death Valley…and I don’t intend to let anything stand in our way…

DAVIS: You’re gonna run into some tough opposition, Kirby…

KIRBY: The only opposition I’m worried about is Benton and his riders…and they won’t be here…

Before Kirby can begin tenting his fingers, a figure walks into the saloon, looking every picture of the Western badass.  That man is…

…you got it, pilgrim.  Charles Freaking Bickford.  Charles Bickford in his only serial, playing the meanest hombre who ever drew a breath: Wolf Reade (even his name is badass).  This is one of several reasons why I’m such a big fan of this serial—Bickford has got to be the most unlikely actor to ever grace a chapter play.  I leave out Bela Lugosi, of course, because Bela was in several (including S.O.S. Coast Guard and The Phantom Creeps)—and I don’t include thespians who were just starting out…like George Macready in The Monster and the Ape (1944) or Jennifer Jones (still being billed as Phyllis Isley) in Dick Tracy’s G-Men (1939).

But let’s get back to Wolf Reade, who strolls into both the bar and backroom like he owns the joint.

WOLF: Let’s see your hole card, Kirby…

KIRBY: You sound like the dealer in this game, Wolf…

WOLF: I am…

KIRBY: Is this a showdown?

WOLF: It is…

GORDON: Wait a minute, Wolf…we ought to be able to get together and…

DAVIS (interrupting): I’d like to say something…

WOLF: Shaddup…

Wolf tells Davis to “get over there where I can see ya” as Kirby pleads with his partner not to make any sudden moves around Reade.

KIRBY: What’s got you all riled up, Wolf?

WOLF: I wanna know why you’ve ordered me to hold up the Berdoo stage today…

KIRBY: Why?  The usual reason, of course…

“I’ve got a payroll to meet…”

DAVIS: Why, there’s $50,000…

WOLF: Come on, Kirby…answer my question…

KIRBY: I have answered it!

WOLF: No you ain’t…but I will…you got Lafe Hogan’s note for $50,000…that money don’t get here by noon, you take over his bank and everything else he owns!

KIRBY: Well…what of it?

“Well…I’m on record as saying that’s just a bit unseemly, old man.”

WOLF: From now on I’m cuttin’ in…fifty-fifty on every one of your deals… (Indicating Davis and Gordon) You can take care of these two lizards out of your share…

“And…I want a company horse.”  Kirby stops to ponder Wolf’s proposition, and then graciously agrees to Wolf’s terms because Reade is not a man you want to be on the bad side of, particularly if you have family.  “You win,” concedes Kirby.

“This time,” mutters Davis.  Wolf asks him to repeat that last remark.  “I said I was glad you got the whole thing settled,” he says mealy-mouthed.

KIRBY: Now that holdup, Wolf…no unnecessary killings…remember?

WOLF: You handle your end…I’ll take care of mine…

Something tells me this is not going to be a good day because innocent people are going to die.  After Wolf leaves and heads out to do that job he dearly loves, Gordon speaks up: “Gee, boss…for a minute there I thought you were gonna plug him…”

“Well, I’m not in the habit of cutting off my nose to spite my face,” breathes Kirby in a sigh of relief.  There is but a brief intercut shot of Wolf riding like the wind on his horse through the hills, and then the scene shifts back to Kirby, Davis and Gordon entering the saloon from their office to start the miners’ meeting.

GORDON (rapping on a table for attention): Order, please, gentlemen…order…

KIRBY: Men…this meeting is called to organize an association to protect you miners in Death Valley…

An actor whom I don’t recognize (and playing a prospector type) asks: “And what are you and Davis gonna get out of this, Kirby?”  (I couldn’t swear to it, but I believe that’s Gabby Johnson, formerly of Rock Ridge.)

KIRBY: Nothing!  Davis and I will finance all claims…prospecting expeditions…transporting ore to Panamint for smelting…

PROSPECTOR (getting up from his seat): I don’t believe a word you say, Kirby!

“…and no sidewindin' bushwackin', hornswagglin' cracker croaker is gonna rouin me bishen cutter…”  Before Gabby can continue with any more of his authentic frontier gibberish, an unidentified cowboy seated next to Gabby rises and connects with a right cross, sending to Johnson to the floor.  Gordon continues to press for order.

GORDON: …quiet, please…Mr. Kirby wants to help you all…

“…off a sixty-foot cliff…”  Gabby, rubbing his chin, says to the man seated next to him: “Why ain’t Jim Benton here?  Kirby’s sure gonna put this thing over…”

KIRBY: Now, men…you’ve all heard my proposition…any comments?  Those in favor of this association stand up…

JIM (as he and the riders come through the swinging doors): Keep your seats…everybody…

There is a good deal of hubbub in the saloon resulting from Jim and the riders’ entrance…but the funniest is from Gabby Johnson, who sort of wistfully waves at Benton and cries out softly “Hi, Jim…”  (“Jim is my friend…he will erase the stain of my painful humiliation, you betcha…”)  Jim then swaggers over to where the three scoundrels are.

JIM: Kirby…how can you hope to form a miners’ protective association when half of the miners are out working their claims?

KIRBY: It’s not my fault the miners aren’t here to speak for themselves…

JIM: I say it is…you only invited these miners here you thought you could intimidate…

KIRBY: Are you hinting this meeting isn’t on the level?

JIM: I’m not hinting, Kirby…I’m telling you…

Jim then addresses the saloon contingent: “Boys, there’ll be no association until all the miners are here to vote.”  Well, Joseph Kirby didn’t get to where he is today by simply being a ruthless essobee…so he decides to walk away in temporary defeat by postponing his scheme until all the miners are able to show up for the meeting.  And to demonstrate his heart’s in the right place, he’s buying drinks for the house.  (Actually, it might have been smarter to do that in the first place—with those yahoos drunk, passing that association legislation would have been easier than falling out of a rowboat.)

“You hear that, boys?” asks Gordon, in prime suck-up mode.  “Mr. Kirby’s buying drinks for the house—step up and name your poison!”  The three scalawags, having licked their wounds, disappear back into their office.

PANCHO: I guess this is going to be the end of this…uh…assoc…

BORAX: Association…

PANCHO: Assocination…no?

BORAX: Yes…

PANCHO: Well, I say no…

BORAX: All right then…no…

PANCHO: What it gonna be—yes or no?

BORAX: I don’t think they’ll hold another meeting…can’t you understand?

PANCHO (shaking his head in the affirmative): No…

BORAX (disgustedly): Adobe brain…

Abbott…Costello…you’re needed on stage twelve.  (Actually, the funniest thing about these exchanges is watching Glenn Strange’s reactions…he later said in an interview he had a difficult time keeping a straight face around Carrillo during filming.)  Back in the bad guys’ office:

DAVIS: How long are you gonna let Benton interfere in our business?

KIRBY: Not any longer than it takes me to find a way to get rid of him…

DAVIS: Well, it’s high time!

Well, what did you expect—you guys are buying the drinks!  As Jim and his boys are availing themselves of the open bar, Smokey enters the saloon carrying a half-dead prospector.

SMOKEY: Where’s Doc Murphy?

BORAX (referencing the prospector): It’s Chuckawalla Charlie!

“I get knocked down/But I get up again/You’re never gonna keep me…” Oh, wait a second—I’m thinking of Chumbawamba.  My bad.  Jim and his gang help Smokey bring Charlie (Frank Austin) over to one of the tables; Jim asks for some water but Tex grabs a drink that’s conveniently at the table, offering that “this will do him more good.”

JIM: Where did you find him?

SMOKEY: Near the waterhole, after you fellas left me…his canteen was clear dry…

JIM (to the prospector): Charlie…Charlie, this is Jim…Jim Benton…

CHARLIE (delirious): Howdy, Jim…I…I found it…

JIM: Found what, Charlie?

SMOKEY: He’s been ravin’ like that all the way in here!  He keeps sayin’ somethin’ about findin’ a Lost Aztec Mine!

CHARLIE: I found it, Jim…I found the Lost Aztec Mine…Jim…Jim…it’s yours, Jim…

JIM: Take it easy, pardner…

CHARLIE: I got proof…

Charlie reaches into his crusty clothing and pulls out several nuggets and a weather-beaten piece of paper.  It lands on the floor of the saloon, and Kirby—who by this time has returned with Davis and Gibson to see what the hubbub was about—makes a grab for it…but Tex steps on it quickly.  The rest of the men observe as Charlie, mad with the heat, makes the most of his solo chapter appearance (the guy’s in one chapter and yet he gets a mention in the credits for the rest of the serial?  That is an agent, my friends.).  Charlie continues to babble about the mine, explaining that it belongs to Jim (since Benton grubstaked him) and a woman named “Mary.”  Then he goes off to that big watering hole in the sky.

Kirby and Davis return to the dank, fetid backroom that is the base of their foul, evil operations.

DAVIS: Do you really think he found the Lost Aztec?

KIRBY: From the looks of those nuggets he certainly found something…and he laid it right in Benton’s lap!

DAVIS: That’s another reason for getting Benton out of the way!  But how?

KIRBY (after a pause): When the Wolf gets in from that stage holdup at Dry Wells…I’ll have him and his men take care of Benton…and his whole outfit!

DAVIS: That’s it!

Back at the bar, Tex remembers that he stuffed Charlie’s map to the mine in his vest and he hands it to Jim.

BORAX: He said the mine was yours…yours and Mary’s…

JIM: Yeah…I wonder who this Mary is?

BORAX: Maybe it’s his burro…

PANCHO: (intelligible Spanish phrase)

TEX: You mean to say all the time you and him was out prospectin’ that he didn’t say nothin’ about his kinfolk?

JIM: No, Tex…ol’ Chuck was pretty closemouthed about his personal affairs…

“Also his personal hygiene.  But I digress.”

PANCHO: Say…maybe this Mary is ol’ Chuck’s sweetheart…gonna ask Tombstone when he come…he know Chuck a long time before you do, did he?

JIM: That’s right, Pancho…he might know who she is…

BORAX: Yeah—we’ll ask him when he comes in from Berdoo…

And as if it were scripted, the scene shifts to a rider on a white horse, galloping through the hills.  (I’m going to spare you the Silver jokes—because the horse is, in fact, called by that very name…Buck Jones was riding Silver long before the Lone Ranger saddled up.)  There is a brief return to the saloon, where Jim remarks: “You fellas stay here and wait for him…I’m going over to the bank and see Lafe Hogan.”

We iris in on a Berdoo stagecoach as the strains of Fingal’s Cave are struck up again.  The rider on the white horse watches from a distance…

That rider is Tombstone—the last major character of our dramatis personae, played by legendary silver screen cowboy Buck Jones.  In the 1920s and 1930s, Jones was one of the popular stars in the movies…but by the time of Riders of Death Valley, his fame had waned a bit.  It would soon be resurrected at Monogram, where Jones started to appear in a series of movies known as The Rough Riders with fellow legends Tim McCoy and Raymond Hatten.  The series was quite popular…but Jones died from injuries sustained from the infamous Cocoanut Grove fire in Boston, Massachusetts in 1942.  Interestingly, Jones probably had more starring serial experience than the other stars in Death Valley; he had headlined five cliffhangers before this one (he’s billed third in Riders—behind comic relief Leo Carrillo, of all the indignities): Gordon of Ghost City (1933), The Red Rider (1934), The Roaring West (1935), The Phantom Rider (1936) and White Eagle (1941—the only chapter play he made at Columbia).

Before we continue on—in case you were asking yourselves “Might this have been called ‘the million dollar serial’ because of the money used to pay the salaries?” the answer would be no.  Actually, the situation in having all these top celebs in this serial was really a fortuitous one—a rare example of everyone being available to work at the same time.

Back to the action: Tombstone tells his horse Silver “Here’s where we cheat a little bit…better go into your act, Silver.”  He flags down the stagecoach and asks the driver (Bud Osborne) if he can get a lift to town because “Silver’s a little lame.”  Tombstone climbs into the coach and seats himself next to this young lovely.

Billed here as Jeanne Kelly, the lovely actress had already appeared in two Universal serials—Junior G-Men (1940) and The Green Hornet Strikes Again! (1941)—but is probably better known to classic movie fans as Jean Brooks…she would later go over to R-K-O and make programmers like The Falcon in Danger (1943) and The Falcon and the Co-Eds (1943).  She’s best known for her work in several Val Lewton movies—chiefly as the doomed Jacqueline Gibson in the blog’s favorite Lewton film, The Seventh Victim (1943).

I don’t recognize the two gentlemen riding with Jeanne—whose character goes by “Mary Morgan” (not the burro)—but seeing as how they’re not long for this world I won’t take the time to research them.  Mary comments on the various sights and sounds as the stage makes it way to Panamint—and upon seeing some wild stallions in the hills she remarks that “Uncle Charlie never wrote me about any wild horses.”

FIRST PASSENGER: Chuckawalla never paid any attention to wild horses…he spent all his time looking for the Lost Aztec Mine…

SECOND PASSENGER: I wish I had all the money Jim Benton spent grubstaking that old desert rat…

MARY: Jim Benton?  Uncle Charlie never wrote about him…

FIRST PASSENGER: He didn’t?  Why everybody in Death Valley knows Jim Benton!

SECOND PASSENGER: Why, if it wasn’t for Jim and his riders this country wouldn’t be a safe place to live in!

Go Team Jim!

FIRST PASSENGER: Yeah…and I’d feel a whole lot safer right now…if he were along to protect this $50,000 we’re carrying…

During this conversation, Tombstone keeps sneaking looks at his comely female passenger…who turns in his direction just as he turns away himself.  An amusing moment—and then there’s a scene shift to the Panamint City Bank, where president Lafe Hogan expresses his concerns to the heroic Jim.

HOGAN: I’ve got a shipment of money comin’ in on the Berdoo stage…if it doesn’t get here by noon, I’m gonna lose my bank!

JIM: How’s that?

HOGAN: Well, I borrowed the money from Kirby and Davis…

JIM: You got nothing to worry about…the stage will get here all right…

HOGAN: Yeah, I know…but while I was looking for you I heard that Wolf and his gang were headed for the stagecoach trail near Death Valley Junction!

JIM: Say…that doesn’t sound so good…

Ya think, Jimbo?  Well, he may not be the smartest hero in serial history but he tells Hogan he’s going to round up the boys and see what’s up.  There is an establishing shot of Jim and his riders mounting up, and then we come to one of the funnier continuity errors of the production: The Case of the Missing Horse!

You can see in the above screen cap Tombstone’s horse is tied to the back of the stagecoach.  There is a quick cut to the interior of the stage, and then another shot shows…

…vee-ola!  The horse has vanished!  That horse appears and reappears constantly in this upcoming chase footage…but instead of obsessing about that, let’s introduce our last big star as he comments to Wolf Reade upon spotting the stage: “Here she comes, boss…”

Yes, Lon Chaney, Jr. was a movie or two away from his breakout role in The Wolf Man (1941)…even though he had made some favorable critical noise in 1939’s Of Mice and Men.  Lon turns up in quite a few serials: The Last Frontier (1932—R-K-O’s only chapter play), Ace Drummond (1936—as a henchman named “Ivan”), Undersea Kingdom (1936), etc.  He’s pretty hooty as a goon in Secret Agent X-9 (1937), but his best chapter play is one that followed Riders entitled Overland Mail (1942), which allows him to be the good guy (!) and also features Don Winslow himself, Don Terry (Noah Beery, Jr. is in that one, too).

“All right, men,” snarls Wolf.  “I want a quick job…no witnesses.”  Sounds as if he’s going to ignore that “no unnecessary killings” proviso, too.  Wolf and his raiders go riding after the stagecoach…which at that point was kind of poking along until the first passenger shouts out “Look out—a hold-up!”  The stage then lurches into gear, and there is much gunplay from Tombstone and the other two male passengers, directed at Wolf and his bandits.  (Chivalrously, Tombstone pushes Mary to the floor of the stagecoach.)

The first passenger is shot in the arm…but for some reason falls over dead.  (Walk it off, you crybaby…)  The shotgun rider is soon picked off by Reade’s desperadoes…but help is on the way as Jim and the Riders appear from over a nearby ridge.

Then the stagecoach driver is whacked.  Wolf catches up to the stagecoach and climbs aboard, grabbing the reins to control the horses.  Somehow, Jim comes out of nowhere and manages to climb aboard the coach, too (Wolf’s gang was riding right behind him, so how Jim avoided being shot I’ll leave to your imagination).  The two men then scuffle on top of the stage, with Wolf being knocked to the ground.

Jim grabs the reins and struggles to control the now heckbent-for-leather running horses.  As Tombstone and Mary are seen climbing out of the stagecoach in mid-gallop, the stagecoach does this little number over a cliff…