Rio Lobo--Howard Hawks' Sad Farewell

Howard Hawks' last film gets off to a rip-roaring start with a small band of Confederate soldiers hijacking a Union train carrying a gold shipment. Cord McNally (John Wayne), a Yankee colonel, takes off in pursuit of the Rebels, but is quickly captured. Surprisingly, he bonds with two of his captors, Captain Pierre Cordona (Jorge Rivera) and Sergeant Tuscarora Phillips (Christopher Mitchum). McNally escapes easily enough, but the trio meet up again at the end of the Civil War.

McNally harbors no ill feeling toward Cordona and Tuscarora, even though his protege, a young Yankee officer, died during the train robbery. Instead, McNally wants revenge on the Union traitor that tipped off the Rebels about the gold. Cordona and Tuscarora can't provide a name, but agree to contact McNally should they encounter the traitor again.

Scene-stealer Jack Elam shows up late.

It's not long before McNally, Cordona, and Tuscarora meet up for a third time...this time to fight some bad men in the town of Rio Lobo. And you can bet there's going to be some shootin' and some fisticuffs.

Ten of John Wayne's final twelve films were Westerns. These dozen pictures include a couple of gems (True Grit, The Shootist), some moderately entertaining oaters (Big Jake, The Cowboys), and a couple of genuine duds. Unfortunately, Rio Lobo is one of the duds, which is a shame considering it was director Howard Hawks' last film.

Jennifer O'Neill and Jorge Rivera.

The opening train robbery is the film's highlight and it's all downhill from there. The plot lacks interest, the dialogue teeters on risible, and there are two dreadful supporting performances. One of those belongs to Wayne's co-star Jorge Rivera. A major star in Mexico, Rivera never seems comfortable as the kind of young sidekick played effortlessly by James Caan in the earlier Hawks-Wayne Western El Dorado (1967).

It doesn't help that Rivera shares several of his scenes with Jennifer O'Neill. It was the former model's first major film role and she struggles just to speak a line of dialogue naturally. O'Neill's acting challenges led to Hawks' decision to cut her character from the film's ending. She just disappears with about 15 minutes left in the movie. In the book Howard Hawks: Interviews, the director said of Jennifer O'Neill: "She just couldn't take direction of any kind and didn't want to. But she thought she was good, she wanted to do things her way."

Future studio executive Sherry Lansing.

Yet, if Rio Lobo is a depressing final film for its famous director, there are a couple of bright spots. Jerry Goldsmith's rousing music underscores the action nicely. Sherry Lansing, who would later gain fame as a powerful studio executive, exudes charm and sex appeal as a Mexican girl. And, best of all, journalist George Plimpton pops up as a minor bad guy.

Plimpton documented the experience in one of his TV specials. I recommend watching it instead of Rio Lobo--it's a lot more entertaining.

George Plimpton: Acting with The Duke, Swinging on a Trapeze, and Playing Quarterback!

Plimpton and Joe Schmidt.

It’s embarrassing now to admit that I didn’t know much about George Plimpton when I started watching his TV specials at age 14. I knew he had written the nonfiction book Paper Lion, in which he went “undercover” as a rookie quarterback on the Detroit Lions football team. And I knew a 1968 movie had been made from Paper Lion starring Alan Alda as Plimpton. That was pretty much the extent of my knowledge about him when I watched the first of his six TV specials.

The premise of the Plimpton! TV specials was the same one the writer had explored in Paper Lion (and even earlier in his career): How would an average person fare in a “glamorous” profession? His first special premiered on ABC in 1970 and was subtitled “Shoot-out at Rio Lobo.” It traces Plimpton’s experience as an extra (billed as the “4th Gunman”) in the Howard Hawks Western Rio Lobo, which starred John Wayne.

Plimpton with John Wayne.

There’s a lot of humor in this behind-the-scenes documentary of life on a movie set as George spends much of the episode rehearsing his only line of dialogue. As he stands behind Wayne, he points his rifle at a lawman and utters: “This here’s your warrant, mister.” However, when it’s time to shoot the scene, director Howard Hawks walks over to Plimpton and tells him to change the line to: “I got a warrant right here, Sheriff.” The befuddled actor jokes that he spent a week rehearsing his line--but he still manages to speak the new one with appropriate menace. He then reacts convincingly when John Wayne “pops” him in the head with a rifle.

His big scene, though, is supposed to be when John Wayne shoots him. In preparation, Plimpton seeks advice from the stunt men on the set (one of them recommends that he die with his eyes open). However, when the time comes for his death scene, Plimpton is rigged to a harness that will pull him back into the saloon wall. He also learns that Jorge Rivero’s character will kill him instead of Wayne. When Henry fires, Plimpton is jerked back against the wall. It's a great effect—but, alas, leaves George no time for any acting during his “big death scene.”

In the other Plimpton! specials produced by David L. Wolper, George photographs elephants in Africa, tries his hand as a stand-up comic, and drives a race car. My two favorites, though, have George return as a quarterback (this time with the Colts) and train as a trapeze artist. The latter special is a fascinating examination of the strength and agility required to work on the trapeze. Plimpton prepares for weeks to perform what most of us would consider a simple trapeze move--“simple” only in comparison to the amazing feats we see high-wire artists routinely perform with ease.

In “The Great Quarterback Sneak,” Plimpton goes back to the football field. The difference this time is that everyone knows who he is. In Paper Lion, only the coaches knew that Plimpton was a journalist. Plimpton’s one regret from that experience was that the National Football League did not allow him to play in a pre-season game. In his TV special, Plimpton gets the opportunity to get on the field—even if it is during halftime—and run a few plays against his “former” team: the Detroit Lions. I don’t remember how Plimpton fared, but I suspect his success, if any, was modest.

George Plimpton--everyman.

In his obituary on George Plimpton, Bill Curry, who was the Colts center when Plimpton played, recalls some details not in the TV special: “(On) day one, he shocked us by requesting to get into the ‘nutcracker’ drill as a ball carrier. Now, the ‘nutcracker’ is one blocker, one tackler, and one runner. It is the most primitive, violent one-on-one drill in football. Well, when (linebacker) Ray May planted George head first in the dirt on his first carry, the ball went one way and George's right thumb went the other. "Dear Gawd, look at this!" he exclaimed as the injured digit dangled uselessly. We all assumed our little television experiment was over. We did not know George Plimpton. That afternoon, he was back in pads, taking snaps with the other quarterbacks.”

The Plimpton! TV specials are entertaining, insightful, and funny. Yes, it’s amusing to watch an “ordinary guy” try to do the things that only extraordinary people can do. But these shows also serve as a testament to a tough-minded journalist that was willing to take some risks to satisfy his own curiosity—and who was modest enough to share his experiences with the world. George Plimpton didn’t mind if we chuckled at his experiences even if he took them seriously.