By Erin Free
In this regular column, we drag forgotten made-for-TV movies out of the vault and into the light. This week: the western double feature of 1974’s The Hanged Man and 1972’s Hardcase.
Though best known for its more serious-minded dramas, the humble telemovie has always toyed gleefully with genre, with many, many fine titles broadcast in the fields of horror, science fiction, action, and the like. Less frequently showcased on the small screen, but certainly still there in relative abundance, is the western. Starring icons of the genre (Glenn Ford in 1971’s The Marshall Of Madrid), country music legends (Kenny Rogers in 1980’s The Gambler; Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings and Kris Kristofferson in 1986’s Stagecoach), more contemporary westerners (Tom Selleck and Sam Elliott have starred in almost too many small screen oaters to mention), big screen superstars (Raquel Welch in 1982’s The Legend Of Walks Far Woman) and TV stalwarts (William Shatner in 1973’s Pioneer Woman), the small screen western has long filled the gap when horse operas have fallen out of favour at the cinema.
Two excellent examples of the western telemovie are 1974’s The Hanged Man with Steve Forrest and 1972’s Hardcase with Clint Walker, which share more than a few similarities. Both films star big, tall, imposing actors with a solid history in the genre; both were made by somewhat surprising production companies; both feature atmospheric location shooting; and both add a few new wrinkles to the western genre without tipping it on its head. Both are also enjoyably lean and mean at a fast-moving 75 minutes apiece, and grip easily with their traditionally straightforward sense of plotting and storytelling. Made within the tight and polite strictures of network television in the 1970s, The Hanged Man and Hardcase lack the violent punch of big screen revisionist riding partners like Soldier Blue, Little Big Man, Chato’s Land, The Hunting Party and the like, but they still pack a more than acceptable wallop.
Directed by episodic TV specialist Michael Caffey (whose resume reads like nothing less than a list of the major American TV series broadcast from the 1960s through to the 1990s) and written by Andrew J. Fenady and Ken Trevey (both of whom boast credit lists nearly as impressive as their director’s), the 1974 telemovie The Hanged Man was produced under the auspices of Bing Crosby Productions (the output of the famous crooner and actor’s production company was a little wilder than expected, with edgy cult films like Walking Tall and Willard just two of the highlights), and was intended to lead into a weekly TV series, which is particularly easy to see in the film’s leave-the-doors-wide-open final sequence. Considering how entertaining The Hanged Man is, the telemovie’s failure to make it to series is a major disappointment prompting a profound sense of confoundment.
Clearly influenced by 1968’s Hang ‘Em High and 1973’s High Plains Drifter (in which Clint Eastwood plays, respectively, an innocent man who survives a lynching and a mythical avenger with chillingly supernatural qualities), The Hanged Man is headlined by Steve Forrest, a big, handsome, deep-voiced actor who had previously featured in a long list of TV series, including westerns like Cimarron Strip, Bonanza, Alias Smith And Jones, Gunsmoke and more. With his moustache, piercing blue eyes, towering frame and steady, confident manner, Forrest is perfectly cast as James Devlin, a black-clad, cigarillo-smoking gunfighter sentenced to hang in The Old West.
But when Devlin – a worldly, literate gunman who can read the Tarot as effectively as he can shoot down his enemies – swings from the rope, he miraculously survives and then eventually recovers, opening up both a legal loophole and a metaphysical debate. Was James Devlin saved by the hand of God? Does he now have a higher purpose in life? And because his death certificate was signed when it was believed that he was dead, is James Devlin now a free man? “What did Lazarus do?” the confused Devlin asks the kindly young Mexican priest charged with ministering to him. When Father Alvaro (Rafael Campos) can’t offer an answer, James Devlin straps on his guns, pulls on his hat, wraps a scarf around his horribly scarred neck, and rides out of town.
The resurrected gunfighter eventually ends up on the ramshackle ranch of struggling widow Carrie Gault (very nicely played by TV regular Sharon Acker, who never reached the career heights she deserved) and her young son Benjamin (Bobby Eilbacher), who are under threat from avaricious landowner and industrialist Lew Halleck (busy character actor Cameron Mitchell attacks his nasty character with admirable aplomb), who wants their property for his own. While Halleck has a small army of gunmen at his disposal led by the menacing Billy Irons (Brendon Boone), Carrie’s only ally is a nameless old man (Will Geer of The Waltons) who helps out on the property. Devlin is quickly charmed by this cruelly beset trio, and equally disgusted by the mean-spirited Lew Halleck, so he takes up the fight on Carrie’s behalf.
Tight and economic, The Hanged Man is certainly derivative (as well as the aforementioned Clint Eastwood double, the long shadow of George Stevens’ classic Shane is darkly and very obviously cast), but it’s also highly enjoyable. Director Michael Caffey makes the most of his dusty, barren locations, and the actors all commit engagingly to their roles, with Forrest particularly strong as the deeply conflicted anti-hero and Mitchell all spit and swagger as his nasty nemesis. The chaste, sweet relationship that develops between Devlin and the very likeable Carrie is also a highlight.
Being a 1970s telemovie, the rougher edges of the violence are smoothed away (thankfully, nobody gets raped, as was pretty much par for the course in big screen westerns of the era), but the dexterous gunplay still thrills, and the climax is very exciting and surprisingly explosive. The manner in which the film plays with its resurrected hero’s mythic, supernatural status is also enjoyably opaque, with the audience happily wrong-footed about whether James Devlin is just a damn-good gunfighter or actually something slightly more metaphysical in nature. A rousing but curiously haunting and surprisingly sensitive western in the “old school” mode, The Hanged Man is far better than its failed-pilot pedigree would suggest, and would likely have made for a very entertaining weekly series indeed.
The first feature-length live action production from animation powerhouse Hanna-Barbera (the production company behind iconic shows like The Flintstones, Yogi Bear, Scooby-Doo, The Jetsons and more), the western telemovie Hardcase first aired as an ABC Movie Of The Week in 1972, and starred Clint Walker, the big, burly tough guy actor best known as one of The Dirty Dozen; the star of the popular western TV series Cheyenne; and headliner of the cult 1974 telemovie Killdozer. Like The Hanged Man, Hardcase is a decidedly “old school” western, but there are plenty of interesting facets at play here too, particularly the film’s unusual setting, its curious premise, and the surprising interplay of its central characters. Director John Llewellyn Moxey (whose list of TV credits is just as impressive as that of The Hanged Man director Michael Caffey) keeps things moving while also offering some strong visual moments.
Clint Walker is no-nonsense Jack Rutherford (the “hardcase” of the title), a Texas rancher burned out after fighting in the Spanish-American war. But when he returns home from battle and incarceration as a POW, Jack finds his life upended. On mistakenly delivered news that he had died in the war, Jack’s beautiful wife Rozaline (played with fiery intensity by redheaded small screen regular and Hart To Hart star Stefanie Powers) has moved on with her life…in a very major way. Rozaline has not only taken up with Mexican revolutionary leader Simon Fuegas (renowned Mexican stage and screen actor Pedro Armendariz adds a striking air of authenticity), but she’s also sold Jack’s ranch to siphon money to her new beau’s band of fighters.
A truly but innocently wronged man, Jack mounts up, heads to Mexico, and formulates a bold plan once he’s got the lay of the land: to get his money back, he plans to kidnap Simon Fuegas and hold him to ransom (just for what’s he’s owed) to the highest bidder, be that Fuegas’ crew, or the Mexican government, which wants to quell his simmering revolution. Jack’s plan works in theory, but once in Mexico, things get a little more complicated…and the film gets even more interesting. Jack and Rozaline still have feelings for each other, Simon is as decent a man as Jack, the Mexican federales become involved, and a burly American mercenary effectively played by NFL legend turned actor Alex Karras (who would later unforgettably play the brutish Mongo in Blazing Saddles and the cuddly father figure in the TV series Webster) gets caught up in the middle.
The stoic Clint Walker (whose limited acting abilities were always made up for by his sincerity and powerfully masculine on-screen presence) and the fiery Stefanie Powers have a strong chemistry here, and the unlikely relationship that forms between Jack Rutherford and Simon Fuegas adds further ballast to the rich but straightforward narrative cooked up by screenwriters and industry vets Harold Jack Bloom and Sam Rolfe, who co-penned the Oscar-nominated script for Anthony Mann’s acclaimed 1953 western The Naked Spur. The Mexican locations are colourful, and while the action is far from plentiful, the character dynamics more than hold audience interest. Like The Hanged Man, the highly enjoyable Hardcase is a fine example of how effectively the western genre was represented on the small screen in the 1970s.
Availability: The Hanged Man and Hardcase are both easy to find online in fairly smooth presentations. Both films have also been released on DVD in the decades since their broadcast.
If you enjoyed this review, check out our other vintage telemovies Charlie’s Angels: Angels In Vegas, Vanishing Point, To Heal A Nation, Fugitive Among Us, To Kill A Cop, Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, Police Story: A Chance To Live, Murder On Flight 502, Moon Of The Wolf, The Secret Night Caller, Cotton Candy, And The Band Played On, Gargoyles, Death Car On The Freeway, Short Walk To Daylight, Trapped, Hotline, Killdozer, The Jericho Mile, Mongo’s Back In Town, and Tribes.
