Jack Elam
Not Such a Bad Guy

Exactly when the Western - movies or television - died out is a matter of scholarly debate. Of course, this sentence assumes the Western is indeed passé - a statement that can send the fans into spittle-flinging diatribes against the East Coast Nattering Nabobs of Negativism.

True, there have been shows and films produced even past the Millennium (Deadwood, Django Unchained). And as long as the - quote - "educational channels" - unquote - were really educational channels (instead of foisting off as history the varied lumpfen with made-up monsters and aliens from outer space), there were good shows about the Old West, including the superb Wild West Tech.

On the other hand, take a look at the number of Westerns that were and the number that are (you can click here or click on the image at the right). It's most instructive.

We see then that the western fell out of favor almost as soon as it arrived, peaking around 1960. Of course the rapid rise from 1950 to 1960 reflects the growth of television itself. And it's tempting to ascribe the rise and fall to a number of shows that lasted only a single season. But that's something that still happens today. And we are looking at the total number of Westerns. If we were to consider the percentage of Western shows to the total shows or even the total scripted shows, we would see that the Western has become - yes, and no joke intended - a dead horse.

But why, we ask, the precipitous decline and so early?

It's easy to forget that there were people living in 1960 who were fully adult during the days of the Old West. For them and even their children, Westerners were about a real time with real people.

But by the 1970's living memories of the Old West were pretty much gone, and the Western - television and films - were more and more relegated to historical period pieces. So the younger you were, the more and more you saw the Western as increasingly old fashioned and - dare we say it? - even corny.

By 1975 the two titans of Western television - Bonanza and Gunsmoke - had closed shop. Then the next year saw the last motion picture starring John Wayne. This was The Shootist (a quite good movie by the way), and if anyone was the epitome of the Old West actor it was the Duke. The Shootist was the end of an era

And the beginning of a new one. In 1977, the surprise hit Star Wars made the theatrical rounds. Not knowing how the show would fare, George Lucas left only one loose end. But when it was clear the public was clamoring for more then came the sequel which left no end unloosed. And even before the second film was released, the old crew of Star Trek reassembled for the commercial hit but critical flop, Star Trek: The Motion Picture. By 1980, it was clear that the Western was no longer required.

So with the exponential explosion of motion pictures in the digital age, it was inevitable that the stars of the celluloid Westerns would be increasingly forgotten. In fact, not that long ago at a lecture in Washington, D. C., the speaker felt compelled to ask if there was anyone in the audience who remembered John Wayne. She seemed gratified that there were.

But if you're a real Western aficionado you will remember Jack Elam. It wasn't just because of his snake-eye meanace that Jack was called in to play bad guys in most of his 300 films and television shows (Jack was actually blind in his left eye). The truth is Jack could act.

If you want to see a sample of Jack's skill, you can do no better than to turn to "The Night of Montezuma's Hordes" from the Wild Wild West television series. Sadly Jack's performance is somewhat overshadowed by what has to be one of the hokiest plots of all four seasons. For one thing you have Aztecs living in the 1870's in the United States and also have an absolutely fictitious (and absurd) "legend" of how the Aztecs hid the most beautiful woman of the tribe behind a horrific mask.

Then you have a joke so lamentable that we wonder if it was an ad-lib. At one point, Jim and Artie are about to be mushed into putty by huge slowly descending stones in an Aztec person-smasher. Of course, Jim and Artie manage to get free - it's amazing how Jim and Artie always have on hand exactly what they need to get out of any particular difficulty - and they then stumble into the room with the Aztec Chief and the others of the tribe. The Aztecs then begin salaaming because they think Jim and Artie are gods.

As Artie explained, "No one's ever lived through Montezuma's Revenge before."

Terrible.

Fortunately the acting makes the show worth watching. Edmund Hashim convincingly plays the suspicious representative of the Mexican government. This is Colonel Sanchez, who doesn't believe the altruistic claims of the gringos (like Jim) that they simply want to restore the Aztec treasure to Mexico. Then there's Ray Walston playing Dr. Johnson, a sniveling and cowardly (and drunken) ex-archeologist.

Artie appears sporting two disguises, first one as a Swedish joke-cracking bartender and another as a wizened old timer who guides the group through the desert. But at least there was a Native American actor playing the Aztec Chief. This was Eddie Little Sky, who was Lakota.

Jim, though, doesn't take off his shirt.

But it's Jack who stands out as the superbaddie, Zack Slade. Slade and his henchmen are determined to steal the Aztec gold and to this end they have Dr. Johnson - that is Ray - assume the role of Dr. Mallory, the head of the anachronistically named Houston Museum of Archeology. Of course, to pave the way for his treachery, Slade murders Dr. Mallory and stuffs the body in a mummy sarcophagus. Then he steals his ring.

(Note: True history buffs remember there really was a Wild West badman named Jack Slade. He's mentioned in Mark Twain's Roughing It where Mark claims to have met him at an overland station. Some writers have taken Mark's encounter as more or less factual. But that, though, is far from certain as Mark was never one to let facts get in the way of a good story. On the other hand, at the time Mark was living in Nevada, Slade did live in Virginia City - and in fact met a rather inglorious end there.)

From the first we know something is wrong. Slade shows a surprising tendency - at least surprising to Jim, Artie, and Colonel Sanchez - to take charge. What's going on? Slade is just supposed to be the head of the digging crew.

Open confrontation begins between Jim and Slade when they have trouble recruiting a guide.

Slade:	I say we go without a guide.
Jim:	Who says you're running things around here, Slade?
Slade:	Let me tell you something, Mr. West, ...

Here the disguised Artie offers to be the guide.

The tension continues on the trail. As Colonel Sanchez sees a landmark known as the "Fingers of Quatlteotl", Dr. Johnson adds some background of the legend, only to be scorned by Slade.

Johnson:	The Aztec appreciation of their Earth-Mother. Their Goddess of the Night Owl.
Slade:	Turn it off, Doctor.

Then after one of Slade's henchmen is killed by an Aztec arrow, they realize they're being followed. Jim says they should saddle up and move out. Slade looks at him.

Slade:	Still giving orders, huh?
Jim:	You want to put it to a vote, Slade?

And there's no doubt about Slade's intentions. After Dr. Johnson reminded him that West was coming on the trip Slade muses:

Slade:

Yeah, I'm kind of looking forward to having him along, too - part of the way.

In the end, Slade and his men (and Dr. Johnson) are hauled off to prison, Colonel Sanchez realizes that Jim and Artie did only want to help Mexico, and the governments of both countries decided to leave the Aztecs in peace with their gold.

The show is, after all, fiction.

But Jack's most famous scene is in Sergio Leone's Once Upon a Time in the West. Although Jack's appearance is brief, it's become part of what has been called one of the most iconic openings in cinematic history.

Three gunmen are sent to a railroad station by a man who we only know as Frank. Played by Henry Fonda in his most uncharacteristic role, Frank is one of the baddest of bad men - so bad that to keep his identity secret he shoots down a six year old boy.

But at the railroad station, the three men - played by Jack, Woody Strobe, and Al Mulock - were sent to meet the harmonica playing Charles Bronson. Although the scene is without dialogue until the end, nevertheless the men's comically strange behavior makes it clear that they are true psychopaths.

Harmonica (as Charles is called) gets off the train, expecting to meet Frank himself.

Charles: And Frank?

Jack replies.

Frank sent us.

Charles sees there's only three horses tethered in the background.

You bring a horse for me?

Jack looks back at the horses and laughs.

Looks like we're - [chuckles] - looks like we're one horse shy.

The other gunmen join in the laughter.

Charles shakes his head and answers.

You brought two too many.

The public who saw Once Upon a Time in the West recognized it as an exceptional film and were surprised at the lukewarm or even negative reception by the American critics. The trouble was this wasn't a typical western with good guys and bad guys. There were just varying degrees of badness.

There is, we admit, a glaring hole in the plot. We learn that Harmonica had arranged the meeting with Frank. Frank didn't know who he was and he didn't care. But rather than take any chances, he sent Jack, Woody, and Al to take care of the stranger right then and there, no questions asked.

But then later when Frank takes Harmonica captive, amazingly he lets him live although he knows Harmonica has something to do with his past and the men he's killed. But he still lets Harmonica walk away. Finally Frank agrees to meet Harmonica in a fast draw duel, which, of course, Frank loses. Few people - including the critics - seemed to recognize the illogic of such a plot. Lack of logic, though, never spoils a good movie.

Instead what did cause real problems was the editing in the various releases. The final film runs for nearly three hours and for the time this was very long. So a number of scenes were cut, leaving glaring gaps in the story.

For instance, American audiences see that after Charles shoots Jack, Woody, and Al at the station, Woody gets off a final shot that also brings Charles down. But then Charles soon shows up in another scene apparently unhurt. What the hey?

What was cut was a scene where Charles painfully recovers consciousness (he was shot in the arm) and manages to leave the station (despite what some websites say, this scene was omitted in the American theatrical release). Other cuttings also left out parts of the story that would have helped keep the action flowing smoothly.

But most critics simply objected to the story as it was written. One scholar found particular fault with the minimalist dialogue which he said was to stare, deliver a line, and then stare again. But in the end, the public won out and even the critics were convinced Once Upon a Time in the West was a landmark in cinema. Eventually the film was selected by the Library of Congress as being of particular cultural and historical importance.

So there.

Jack didn't just play in westerns, and he didn't just play bad guys. He was capable in comedy roles - his favorite movie was Support Your Local Sheriff with James Garner - and of course, he had B picture credits like Tarzan's Hidden Jungle, Kansas City Confidenial, and B-B films like The Creature from Black Lake. But Hollywood always needed bad guys.

References

"Jack Elam", Everett Aaker, Television Western Players, 1960-1975: A Biographical Dictionary, McFarland Publishing, 2017

"How the Western Was Lost (and Why It Matters)", Michael Agresta, The Atlantic, July 24, 2013.

"List of Westerns on Television", Wikipedia.

"Spies! How A Group of Long Island Patriots Helped General Washington Win the Revolution," Elizabeth Kaplan, Lecture International Spy Museum, July 17, 2013.

The Night of Montezuma's Hordes, Wild Wild West, Robert Conrad, Ross Martin, Jack Elam, Ray Walston, Edmund Hashim, Eddie Little Sky, Irving Moore (Director), Max Erlich (Writer), Bruce Lansbury (Producer), Michael Garrison (Creator).

"Once Upon a Time in the West", Colin Covert, Film Society, Minneapolis-St. Paul.

"On TV Westerns of the 1950s and '60s," Stephen Kiss, New York Public Library, December 1, 2012.