The Conversation and Repeat Performance

Gene Hackman.

The Conversation (1974). Francis Ford Coppola directed this overlong, but engrossing look into the life of an intensely private surveillance expert (Gene Hackman) whose recording of a seemingly innocent conversation has tragic results. Hackman’s character strives to distance himself from his subjects (“I don’t care what they’re talking about.—all I want is a nice fat recording.”). But his latest assignment conjures up painful memories of a previous job where one of his recordings led to murder. Hackman perfectly captures the loneliness and paranoia of a man who intrudes on others’ privacy, while zealously guarding his own. The best scene: Hackman and surveillance rival Allen Garfield try to one up each other during a party with other experts in their field. A young Harrison Ford plays a menacing business executive and Cindy Williams (Shirley in in the 1970s hit sitcom “Laverne and Shirley”) plays one of the subjects in the title conversation. Hackman, Coppola, and the film all earned Oscar nominations; Coppola lost to himself (he won for The Godfather Part II). Hackman played a similar surveillance expert in 1998’s Will Smith thriller Enemy of the State.

Joan Leslie.

Repeat Performance (1948). I first saw Repeat Performance over the Christmas holidays when I was in high school. The timing was impeccable since the film’s opening takes place on New Year’s Eve. I suspect I watched it because the supporting cast included Richard Basehart (star of my first favorite TV series “Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea”) and Tom Conway (from The Falcon detective films). In any event, I found myself watching what amounted to an extended episode of “The Twilight Zone”—and, this case, that's a high compliment. Joan Leslie plays Sheila Page, a popular stage actress who kills her playwright husband at December 31st. Distraught over what she has done, Sheila goes to see her emotionally fragile friend, poet William Williams (Basehart). Sheila tells William that she wishes for a second chance—if she could live the year again, she would do things differently. When the clock strikes midnight, the year begins over again. Yet, no matter what Sheila does, fate intervenes and she seems powerless to alter the ultimate course of destiny. Released by budget-minded Eagle Lion, Repeat Performance was regarded as a minor “B” film when first released. It has gained a little fame over the years, having been remade as the 1989 made-for-TV movie Turn Back the Clock with Connie Selleca (and featuring Joan Leslie in a cameo). In the late 1990s, it began to pop up at film noir conventions, sometimes with Leslie in attendance. Incidentally, the supporting also features a young Natalie Schafer—Mrs. Howell from “Gilligan’s Island.”

Life of a Downhill Racer

Redford as David Chappellet.

My favorite sport in the Winter Olympics has been downhill racing ever since I saw Downhill Racer (1969) on network television as a teenager. The high speeds, the sound of the skis whooshing across the snow, and the images of skiers sailing over bumps in the course...what's not to like?

I recently watched Downhill Racer for the first time in several decades and, while its impact has diminished, it still held my interest and the skiing chases (of which they're not enough) were as enthralling as ever.

Hackman as the coach.

Robert Redford plays David Chappellet, an alternate on the U.S. national men's skiing team, who joins the squad when one of its members is injured. Chappellet lacks international experience, but overflows with arrogance and confidence, a combination that creates an immediate rift with his teammates and coach (Gene Hackman). The catch, though, is that Chappellet is a sensational downhill skier and he rises quickly through the ranks to become the U.S. team's best hope for a Winter Olympics gold medal.

The theme here is a universal one: You don't have to be a nice person to become great at something. Indeed, Chappellet isn't an ugly individual and the screenplay tries to justify some of his behavior by showing his awkward relationship with his father. In one scene, his father asks why Chappellet is skiing and his son replies that he wants to be a champion. His father's response: The world is full of champions.

By the same token, Chappellet has little interest in anyone but himself. On a trip home, he has sex with an old girlfriend, but ignores her when she begins talking about her future. Later, he slams on a car's horn when his Swedish girlfriend tells him about Christmas with her family. He is peeved because she didn't spend the holidays with him. He could care less about her family. In the end, the only person that has a true connection with Chappellet is his rival on the U.S. skiing team. They share a passion for downhill racing and the risk-taking that's an integral part of it. They may never be friends, but it's as close as Chappellet may ever get.

Redford sheds his good-guy image to paint a nuanced portrait of his aloof, self-centered protagonist. Gene Hackman is equally good as the team's coach, who has to balance his time between fund-raising, coordinating travel, and keeping the team together.

While director Michael Ritchie could have tightened the story considerably, he excels in other areas. The skiing sequences, which sometimes incorporate a first-person perspective, draw the viewer into the thrills of downhill racing. Ritchie balances those exciting scenes with the bland life that surrounds the races. The hotels all look the same. The team passes time by playing table tennis and giving interviews to people that know little about the sport. The coach gives speeches to raise money and dines with sponsors to get free equipment. It's a seemingly dull existence--except for when the skiers are on the slopes.

Ritchie went on to make two other films that also pulled back the curtain to reveal the inner workings of a political race (The Candidate, again with Redford) and a beauty pageant (Smile). Neither of those movies are as compelling as Downhill Racer, which overcomes its shortcomings to function effectively as a character study and an above-average sports film.

Drama Among the Country Club Set in "Banning"

Wagner as Mike Banning.

Banning (1967) often gets categorized as a golf movie--heck, it was even shown on the Golf Channel at one time. It does involve golfing, particularly during the climax, but the reality is that Banning is the equivalent of a big screen soap opera--and I mean that as a compliment. It's set at a posh Arizona country club whose members include a wily old millionaire, his lonely daughter and conniving son-in-law, a washed-up golf pro, a sultry hussy, and an attractive secretary. These people have settled into their roles at El Presidente until their lives are disrupted by the arrival of Mike Banning (Robert Wagner).

A former professional golfer with a shady past, Banning blackmails club member Jonathan Linus (Guy Stockwell) into hiring him as an assistant golf pro. The good-looking Banning attracts the attentions of Jonathan's ignored wife (Susan Clark) and a wealthy socialite (Jill St. John). However, he has set his sights on Carol Lindquist (Anjanette Comer), the club's secretary who harbors a few secrets of her own. His romantic pursuit of Carol is stifled by the arrival of a mob debt collector. It turns out that Banning owes $20,000 to an old pal whose gambling losses need to paid up or else!

Jill St. John.

If you temper your expectations, Banning is an entertaining lightweight drama that relies heavily on its cast. It's not that it's a particularly well-acted film, but rather its makers chose the right actors for each role. Robert Wagner made a career out of playing the handsome, likable guy with a bit of an edge. Jill St. John always fared best when playing exaggerated characters like Tiffany Case in Diamonds Are Forever. And Susan Clark seemed to specialize in playing strong, intelligent women who were not to be underestimated. Add in a mix of seasoned pros (e.g., Gene Hackman, Howard St. John) and promising young actors (James Farentino) and you've got 102 minutes of fun.

Susan Clark.

Banning was made in the late 1960s when Universal Studios was producing modestly-budgeted films with an eye toward television profits. Many of these pictures were headlined by TV veterans, such as Jack Lord (The Ride to Hangman's Tree), Don Knotts (The Reluctant Astronaut), and Doug McClure (The King's Pirate, a remake of Against All Flags). The studio even made a theatrical film based on its TV sitcom The Munsters (1966's Munster, Go Home!). Thus, it's not surprising that Banning is sometimes misidentified as a made-for-TV movie. (Hey, future spouses Robert Wagner and Jill St. John did star together in a made-for-TV movie that same year: the quirky How I Spent My Summer Vacation).

Make no mistake, though, that Banning was released to theaters--and it's got an Oscar nomination to show for it! Yes, the lovely Quincy Jones-Bob Russell composition "The Eyes of Love" was nominated for Best Original Song (losing to the inferior "Talk to the Animals" from Doctor Doolittle). It's apparent that Banning director Ron Winston knew he had a good song because "The Eyes of Love" is played throughout the movie. Jack Jones and Trini Lopez recorded cover versions of it and Quincy included it on his album You've Got It Bad Girl. However, here's the original version sung by Gil Bernard.

Of course, you could just watch Banning. It was a hard-to-see movie for many years, but fortunately my Twitter pal @CED_LD_Guy has uploaded Banning to his "Your Favorite Movies By Request" Rumble Channel. Rumble is similar to YouTube. To watch the movie, just sign up for a free account, log in, and click on this link.

Hoosiers: A Tale of Inspiration and Second Chances

Gene Hackman as Coach Norman.

Second chances, the popularity of small town sports, and teamwork are the themes that underlie Hoosiers, a surprise 1986 boxoffice hit.

Gene Hackman stars as Dale Norman, a formerly disgraced college basketball coach hired at Hickory High School. The team has only seven players...and that includes the equipment manager who plays in practice only. Jimmy Chitwood, the town's best player, left the team following the death of the former coach, a father figure to the lad.

Coach Norman clashes with the townsfolk almost immediately, starting with a teacher (Barbara Hershey) who questions his education qualifications. The players' parents don't condone his pass-first basketball approach (four passes before a shot!) and his closed practices. It's not long with there's a petition to remove Norman from his job--although there are those who come to admire his emphasis on teamwork and discipline.

Barbara Hershey.

Hoosiers is a sports movie and a very good one. Set in the 1950s, it captures the importance of basketball in a small town devoid of other forms of entertainment. Heck, the school is too small to field a football or a baseball team, so basketball is everything. As Hershey's teacher says: "You know, a basketball hero around here is treated like a god...I've seen them, the real sad ones. They sit around the rest of their lives talking about the glory days when they were seventeen years old."

Dale Norman loves the game of basketball and recognizes a great player when he sees one. But for him, there are no individual heroes, only teams where the players work together to achieve the victory. I think this is what make Hoosiers a favorite among many real-life basketball players. When the 2002 Indiana University Hoosiers made an unlikely run to the NCAA championship game (ultimately losing to Maryland), the players watched Hoosiers before each tournament game.

Dennis Hopper as Shooter.

Yet, Hoosiers is also a movie about giving second chances and making the most of those opportunities. Coach Norman gets his chance to coach again because the high school principal, an old friend, believes in him. Norman pays it forward by taking on Shooter (Dennis Hopper), an alcoholic former high school star who happens to be the father of one of Norman's players. In one of the film's most amusing scenes, Norman gets intentionally thrown out of a game so that Shooter has to step up and coach the team. Hopper isn't in much of Hoosiers, but he brings out his character's love of the game and his desire to fight the demons that separated him from his family. It's a performance that earned Hopper a Best Supporting Actor nomination (though his best performance of 1986 was in David Lynch's riveting Blue Velvet).

During the filming of Hoosiers, Gene Hackman clashed almost daily with rookie director David Anspaugh and was convinced the film would flop. But after seeing the rough cut, Hackman knew that Hoosiers was special. The story is inspirational and the acting good, but it's the little touches that make it memorable: the autumn colors, the wind blowing through the fields, Jerry Goldsmith's Oscar-nominated score.

The plot of Hoosiers was inspired by the 1954 Milan high school basketball team. Milan, Indiana, boasted a population of just over a 1,000 residents. And yet its high school basketball team played toe-to-toe with the biggest and best Indiana schools for two years. They almost won the state championship in 1953 and then accomplished the feat in 1954 in what has been dubbed The Milan Miracle.

Kevin Costner Looks for a Way Out

Kevin Costner as Tom Farrell.

Unless you've seen No Way Out (1987) or The Big Clock (1948), be forewarned that this review will contain plot spoilers. The former film is a updated remake of the latter, with both films being based on the 1946 novel The Big Clock by author and poet Kenneth Fearing.

The 1987 adaptation stars Kevin Coster as Commander Tom Farrell, a Naval officer stationed in Washington, D.C., who has a torrid one-night stand with socialite Susan Atwell (Sean Young). They put their relationship on hold when he is deployed to the Philippines. When a heroic act gets Tom reassigned back to Washington, their affair heats up again. However, there is a problem: Susan is also the mistress of David Brice, the Secretary of Defense, who just happens to be Tom's boss at the Pentagon.

When Brice (Gene Hackman) discovers that Susan is seeing another man, he flies into a rage and accidentally kills her. Instead of going to the police, Brice confides in his right-hand man Scott Pritchard (Will Patton). Pritchard comes up with a plan to blame the murder on "the other man" and suggests he may be a Russian spy. He then assigns his most competent officer to conduct the investigation and find the killer. That turns out to be Farrell--who now has the unenvious task of framing himself for murder!

Gene Hackman as David Brice.

While No Way Out retains the basic premise of Fearing's novel, it makes major changes to the characters and setting. In the book and the 1948 film version, a wealthy publisher murders his mistress and assigns his best investigative reporter to uncover the murderer--not knowing that the reporter was seeing the same woman. The setting is New York City and, yes, there is a big clock. The bulk of the plot takes place inside the publisher's building.

Director Roger Donaldson "opens up" his film by setting most of it in the U.S. capital and taking advantage of the locations. From Susan's townhouse to the Pentagon to a foot chase through the streets, the city shines almost as brightly as Kevin Costner's white Navy uniform. The setting seems to inject a feeling of realism in what turns out to be a pretty far-fetched plot.

However, Donaldson and screenwriter Robert Garland also slow down the action by spending too much time on the affair between Tom and Susan. Their sizzling love scene in the back of a limousine--which incidentally features no nudity--gets their relationship off to a memorable start. However, Susan's murder doesn't occur until almost 45 minutes into the film. That's a long time before the audience reaches the central premise.

Sean Young as Susan Atwell.

While neither Costner nor Hackman are required to play complex characters, they are convincing in their roles. The standout, though, is Sean Young as the confused mistress whose underlying fear of Hackman's character keeps her from breaking off the affair earlier. Young's once-promising career derailed in the 1990s for a variety of reasons.

No Way Out opens and ends with framing scenes that culminate in what was intended to be a big twist. The twist doesn't add anything to the film, at least not now in the absence of a Cold War. Still, it doesn't detract from a fairly efficient thriller that relies on author Fearing's ingenious premise to carry the day.

A Covenant With Death

George Maharais as the judge.

George Maharis's brief flirtation with movie stardom included one crackerjack suspense film, The Satan Bug (1965), plus several questionable career choices. Made in 1967, A Covenant With Death falls in the latter category with Maharis playing an inexperienced half-Mexican judge in a small Southwestern town.

Maharis with detective Gene Hackman.

The implication is that Benjamin Morales (Maharis) was appointed to his judicial position by the governor as a favor to Ben's deceased father. He appears to be doing well enough with his job until a more senior judge (Arthur O'Connell) heads off on a fishing vacation following the end of a murder trial. When the governor rejects the accused man's (Earl Holliman) appeal, Ben has to sign the execution order for death by hanging. However, the execution goes horribly wrong and the hangman is accidentally killed. Making matters even more complex, evidence comes to light that may free the convicted killer of his original crime.

Had it honed in on the legal intricacies of its plot or explored ethic prejudice, A Covenant With Death might have been a sharp, little courtroom drama. Alas, the film goes astray with too many subplots surrounding Ben and the three women in his life. His strongest relationship is with his mother (the always reliable Katy Jurado), with whom he bickers with constantly, sometimes playfully and sometimes not. She knows what's best for her son and it's not the pretty blonde that visits from the big city.

Laura Devon as one love interest.

That blonde would be Rosemary (Laura Devon), who certainly shares a passionate, physical relationship with Ben. However, it's also an uneasy one since his dark moods set her on edge. She also describes him--accurately--as "a selfish, cruel little boy." Hence, it's hard to understand why Ben's sweet, innocent distant cousin Rafaela (Wende Wagner) is attracted to him. But it's a mutual attraction and takes up a surprising amount of Ben's time considering the legal challenges he's facing.

George Maharis was a better actor than people gave him credit for. As evidence, I offer the first two excellent seasons of Route 66 and the show's gradual decline when he left it. In A Covenant With Death, though, Maharis seems content to rely on his natural charm. He's never believable as a young judge with a bright legal mind. It doesn't help that his character is incredibly self-centered and borderline chauvinistic. His character might have been at home in a darker film, but A Covenant With Death is ultimately a conventional film with a sloppy happy ending.

Wende Wagner as another love.

The supporting cast features Gene Hackman just before his performance in Bonnie and Clyde put him on the map to stardom. As for the ladies, Laura Devon appeared mostly in television, notably in The Richard Boone Show and Dr. Kildare. She was married to Brian Kelly (Flipper) and later composer Maurice Jarre. Wende Wagner has a Richard Boone connection, too, having starred with him in the Western Rio Conchos (1964). She was discovered by Billy Wilder and later was a regular on The Green Hornet as Britt Reid's secretary Lenore "Casey" Case.

Here's a clip from A Covenant With Death. You can view it full-screen on the Classic Film & TV Cafe's YouTube Channel. You can also stream the entire movie at warnerarchive.com.

Gene Hackman Looks for Meaning in "Night Moves" (Me, too)

There are certain movies I feel compelled to watch periodically--even though I've seen them and know they will disappoint me again. One such film is Michael Crichton's Looker, which I've reviewed for this blog, and another is Arthur Penn's Night Moves. Both films have impressive pedigrees, with Crichton and Albert Finney responsible for the first and Arthur Penn and Gene Hackman teaming up for the second. Certainly, Night Moves is the more critically acclaimed of the duo--although let me stress that you won't find me among its admirers.

Dig the moustache?

Hackman plays Harry Moseby, a former Oakland Raiders football player who has become a private investigator. Because Night Moves was made in the 1970s, there must be a psychological reason for why he chose such an unusual profession. Sure enough, it turns out that Moseby's father abandoned him as a youth and that he tracked down Dad as an adult. Harry now finds meaning in finding people (more on that later), so he becomes a detective.

A young Melanie Griffith.

Arlene Iverson (Janet Ward), a former "B" movie actress, hires Harry to find her 16-year-old daughter Delly (Melanie Griffith), who has been missing for two weeks. Harry doesn't like Arlene, who won't win any parenting awards, but he takes the job for $125 a day and expenses. His investigation leads to a movie shoot in Mexico and eventually to Delly's stepfather's in the Florida Keys. He finds Delly, but also a lot of messed-up people and, yes, even murder.

Meanwhile, Harry's seemingly-grounded wife (Susan Clark) asks if he wants to see a revival of My Night at Maud's. Harry declines by quipping: "I saw a Rohmer film once. It was kind of like watching paint dry." This is the film's most famous quote...which is probably meaningful in some psychological way. (Incidentally, I like Rohmer.) Harry changes his mind later and shows up at the movie theater to discover his wife getting into a car with an unknown man. He follows them and later confirms that his wife is having an affair. Yes, this private detective isn't observant enough to note that his own marriage is on the rocks. I think this is intended to be psychologically meaningful.

James Woods is effective in a small role.

I believe there's a solid premise buried somewhere within Night Moves and that, plus Hackman's performance, may be what compels me to return occasionally to this film. However, I always end up flustered by the half-baked ideas. There are references to Kennedy and some hand-held footage of a car crash that may not be an accident (ah, an analogy to the Zapruder footage). Harry plays chess and discusses a knight move in a famous game (ah, "knight move" and "night move"). It turns out that Harry lied to his wife about finding his father. (I did pick up on the reference to football player Alex Karras, who was co-star's Susan Clark's husband in real life.)

Night Moves intentionally posts some key questions and then ends without answering them. That's how life is and I respect that approach. I don't mind a challenging film either--heck, I watched Last Year at Marienbad and count myself among the millions baffled by it. However, Night Moves is simply unsatisfying on too many levels to make it a meaningful viewing experience. Please note that I'm in the minority among my film critic brethren. Roger Ebert thought it was a new kind of film noir about "an old-fashioned private eye who says and does all the expected things while surrounded by a plot he completely fails to understand."

As for me, I'm glad I wrote this review. Ten years from now, when I'm intrigued to watch Night Moves again, I can re-read this post and then opt for a Rohmer movie instead.

The Poseidon Adventure: Trust in Hackman

The first--and best--of the 1970s "disaster movies," The Poseidon Adventure has aged well over the years. I sometimes think it gets lumped in with its disaster brethren--The Towering Inferno, Earthquake, etc.--which is a shame, because Poseidon is a superior film that established the formula for those lesser efforts.

The first half-hour is basically an introduction to the people aboard the S.S. Poseidon, an outdated cruise ship making its final voyage from Athens to New York. The passengers and ship staff include: a police detective and his former-prostitute wife (Ernest Borgnine and Stella Stevens); a retired couple (Jack Albertson and Shelley Winters) going to see their grandson for the first time; a teen girl and her obnoxious younger brother (Pamela Sue Martin and Eric Shea); a lonely businessman (Red Buttons); a singer (Carol Lynley); a bartender (Roddy McDowall); and an unorthodox priest (Gene Hackman), whose defiance of his church superiors has resulted in his banishment to a third-world country (a mission that the priest embraces). Granted, some of these characters border initially on stereotypes, which is surprising considering that Stirling Silliphant (In the Heat of the Night, Route 66) co-wrote the screenplay. However, as the film progresses, Silliphant reveals hidden depths to some of the passengers.

Gene Hackman and Pamela Sue Martin..

The plot cranks into high gear when the ship capsizes after being hit with an aftershock (8.6 on the Richter scale) from an underwater earthquake. With several people already dead, the survivors face their first dilemma. Two of them (Buttons and Hackman) propose that they make their way upward to the propeller shaft where the hull may be thin enough to reach the surface. However, the ship's purser encourages the passengers to remain in the ballroom, with promises that help must surely be on its way. Unable to reach agreement, two groups split off with one following the decisive priest and the other remaining with the purser.

Borgnine as the detective Rogo.

As the first group of passengers makes its way slowly up to the hull, friction quickly develops between the priest and the detective. In addition to having doubts about the priest's course of action, Borgnine's detective--a man typically in charge--bristles at taking orders from someone else. And it doesn't help that his wife seems to have complete confidence in Hackman's priest. This intra-group turbulence heightens the suspense as the survivors face one seemingly insurmountable hurdle after another. 

The interior of the ship, masterfully created by set designers William Creber and Raphael Bretton, earned an Oscar nomination for Best Art Direction-Set Decoration. Danger seems to lurk around every turn, whether it is rising water, searing flames, or boiling steam.

Oscar nominee Shelley Winters.

In addition to its art decoration, The Poseidon Adventure earned Oscar nominations for cinematography, costumes, sound, editing, and John Williams' excellent music score. Shelley Winters, who won the 1973 Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress, lost the Academy Award in the same category to Eileen Heckart for Butterflies Are Free. Still, The Poseidon Adventure wasn't shut out in Oscar wins; the song "The Morning After" picked up a statuette and the film was given a "special achievements award" for its visual effects.

Although Borgnine gives one of his best post-1960s performances and Winters has a great scene, acting honors go to Gene Hackman. His high-octane performance propels the film and reaffirms his status as one of the most versatile actors of his generation.

The flop sequel with
Michael Caine & Sally Field.

Backed by a canny marketing campaign ("Hell, upside down" and "Who will survive?" proclaimed the posters), The Poseidon Adventure was a boxoffice smash. Producer Irwin Allen copied the formula, only with bigger stars, for The Towering Inferno. And, at the end of the disaster movie cycle, he mounted an unsuccessful sequel called Beyond the Poseidon Adventure.

Thirty-three years after the original film, two remakes appeared: a made-for-TV version with Rutger Hauer and 2006's Poseidon, a lively remake helmed by Wolfgang Petersen (Das Boot). Though the latter is quite watchable, I recommend sticking with the original if you're in the mood for a suspenseful movie about an overturned ocean liner.

Into the West: "Bite the Bullet" Races Toward the Finish

Richard Brooks produced, wrote, and directed Bite the Bullet in 1975. A prolific screenwriter and later director, Brooks earned Oscar nominations for penning the screenplays for Blackboard Jungle (1955), The Professionals (1966), Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958), and In Cold Blood (1967). He won the Academy Award for Best Screenplay Adaptation for Elmer Gantry in 1960. He married Jean Simmons, who was his leading lady in that movie.

Brooks loosely based Bite the Bullet on a 700-mile cross country horse race that took place in 1906. The film opens with a newspaper sponsoring such a race with the winner receiving $2,000. The race’s participants are followed by a train that stops at various checkpoints along a course loaded with supplies and even prostitutes for the men. When a horse and rider check in at these stops, they are allowed to rest, eat, and sleep and leave in the order they arrived. A newspaper reporter follows some of the racers with his motorcycle. He writes about the race and helps out any riders who might get into trouble.

The race’s contestants are a mixed group of people. Sam Clayton (Gene Hackman) and Luke Matthews (James Coburn) are former Rough Riders who went separate ways in life, but still remain good friends. Their friendship is the most interesting part of the movie. The race’s only female rider, a former prostitute named Miss Jones (Candice Bergen), has an ulterior motive for wanting to be in the race. A Mexican rider (Mario Arteaga), who is battling a painful toothache, wants to win the money to make a better life for his family. An old sick cowboy, Mister (Ben Johnson), is risking his life to participate in the grueling race. Carbo (Jan-Michael Vincent) is a young immature man who is cruel to animals. Jack Parker (Dabney Coleman) is the wealthy owner of a thoroughbred champion horse and desperately wants his horse to beat the quarter horses adapted to the Western territory. He has even hired an experienced rider to ride his horse. The last man is Sir Henry Norfolk (Ian Bannen), who traveled all the way from England to ride in a Western race just for the sport of it. He even rides an English saddle instead of the widely-used western saddle suited for a race like this one. The way these characters interact during the race reveals much about each of them and also how they deal with the changing times (a theme explored again by Brooks in The Professionals). The cowboy’s way of life is coming to an end with the new transportation of the twentieth century.

At the beginning Bite the Bullet, Sam in en route to deliver a champion thoroughbred horse to Jack Parker, who is waiting on the train. Sam is riding his own horse and leading the thoroughbred. He finds a wild mare that has been captured and tortured by wranglers. She is dead and Sam stops to remove a piece of metal stuck through her nose. He sees a foal belonging to the mare and hears coyotes approaching to kill the young horse. Sam loves horses and has a kind heart. He puts the foal across his saddle. He rides and sees a farm with a young boy milking a cow. Sam asks the boy if he would like a horse of his own. The boy says yes, but he can’t pay for the foal. Sam gives him the foal, telling him he doesn’t have to pay for it but just treat it well. Sam arrives late at the train stop and is promptly fired by Parker, who claims Sam made his champion thoroughbred walk too far.

In town, Sam meets his old friend Luke, who is a gambler and has bet his own money on himself to win the race. He asks Sam why he hasn’t entered the race. Sam says he has been fired by Parker and, since he’s out of a job, he adds his name to the race’s roster. Later, the two men encounter the young punk Carbo hitting a donkey and quickly put a stop to it. This scene and the rescue of the foal show Sam and Luke will not tolerate animal cruelty and truly love horses, which plays a key role in the film’s climax.

Sam and Luke also will not tolerate prejudice. When a stranger makes fun of the Mexican rider, Sam lies and says his grandfather was a Mexican. Luke follows suit and says he is part Cherokee Indian. The racist man is afraid to fight both of them and leaves. Later, the young Carbo calls Miss Jones a whore and doesn’t treat her with respect. Sam takes up for her and puts the kid in his place.

In one scene, Parker has his hired rider provide essentially handicap the race by telling him who has the best chance of winning. The rider replies that: the punk kid is too inexperienced; the Mexican is tough and so is his horse; Luke doesn’t have the best horse, but he takes chances and is lucky; the woman can ride as well as any man; and the Englishman’s horse can keep up with the thoroughbred. However, he says the one to watch is Sam. He has the experience, knows the territory, and his horse has the heart.

During the course of the story, you see these characters take care of each other. They help one another, support each other when bad things happen, grow to respect each other and even learn from one another--especially Carbo who races his horse so hard he kills him and Parker, who wants his champion horse to win wants a fair race.

Bite the Bullet is a well-acted Western with good themes, plenty of action, and interesting characters. Many things happen to the riders and their horses along the way. However, it is the story of Sam and Luke’s friendship that makes this movie an excellent Western. The surprise ending is one you will not forget.

Charles Bronson was offered the leading role of Sam Clayton, but turned it down. He would have been a good choice for the role, but Hackman does an outstanding job. The movie was shot on location in New Mexico and Nevada—the desert scenes will make you thirsty. My favorite quote is Miss Jones explaining to the young Carbo how a cowboy dresses and undresses. That description always makes me laugh.

Bite the Bullet was nominated for two Oscars: Best Sound Mixing and Best Music and Original Score by Alex North. North received an astounding 14 nominations for Best Original Score—and never won an Oscar (though he did receive an honorary one in 1986). The two leading men both later won Oscars for acting: Gene Hackman for The French Connection (1971) and Unforgiven (1992) and James Coburn won for Affliction (1997).