Favourite Episode Blogathon: THE HIGH CHAPARRAL: "It Takes a Smart Man" (1970)

THE HIGH CHAPARRAL: "It Takes a Smart Man" (NBC-TV/Xanadu Productions 1970)  Original Air Date: October 23, 1970.  Starring Leif Erickson as John Cannon, Cameron Mitchell as Buck Cannon, Henry Darrow as Manolito Montoya, Linda Cristal as Victoria Cannon, Don Collier as Sam, Roberto Contreras as Pedro, Richard Bradford as Tulsa Red, Garry Walberg as the Bartender, Carle Benson as the Banker, Wes Bishop as Carter.  Written by Jack Sowards.  Directed by Leon Benson.


This is The Horn Section's contribution to the Favourite Episode Blogathon hosted by A Shroud of Thoughts.  I've participated in this terrific annual event four times previously (from 2015 to 2018) and I'm glad to be back for this year's edition, the sixth.  Check out the rest of the posts from all of this year's participants, and subscribe: you'll always find some great classic television reading at A Shroud of Thoughts.

Marie Gomez is documented as one of my biggest celebrity crushes, and the fourth season of THE HIGH CHAPARRAL is often cited as the weakest by fans, so it might be surprising to discover that my Favourite Episode of this durable series doesn't feature the impish Perlita Flores and comes from that truncated (18 segments) 1970-71 season.

Billy Blue Cannon disappointingly vanished without an explanation and there are embarrassing duds like The Badge, but the final season also boasts some memorably strong dramatic installments.  Cameron Mitchell's always colorful Buck Cannon takes center stage for three of those, and It Takes a Smart Man is not only my favorite of the final batch, but of the show's entire run.

"They're all around us.  We're trapped!"
"No, I've got 'em right in the palm of my hands."

Taking a shortcut back to the home, Manolito is rebuffed when he attempts to aid a white man chased into the hills by Apaches.  Despite the chilly reception from the stranger, Mano fires from behind his boulder until he is out of bullets.  At that time Mano discovers the gunfire has ceased, and that the white man has vanished with it--having killed every single Apache who had been firing at him.

"That's one of your problems, Tulsa.  You judge every man by yourself."

Later, Mano sees the same man ride up to the Chaparral, arrogantly demanding to see John Cannon.  We learn he is Tulsa Red: killer of eighteen men before his 23rd birthday who escaped the hangman's noose in a Kansas City murder trial (with John's testimony as the key factor).  Tulsa is short on cash and his talent with a gun has made making a living difficult since.  Noting that he's come a long, hard way (and "wouldn't be here" if not for John), Tulsa demands $5000, an order the Cannon patriarch flatly rejects.  Cocksure that John will pay, Tulsa Red states he'll wait in Tucson for Mr. Cannon to come around.

"Well, sooner or later, I'll have to go to Tucson.  Tulsa Red or no Tulsa Red."

Before he exits, Tulsa goads the unsuspecting Buck into conflict, and only the intervention of John and the ranch hands stops a gunfight.  Knowing he will be unable to keep the antagonists apart forever, John reluctantly and quietly gives Red the $5,000 under the pretense of a "loan" to save his brother's life against a much faster draw.  But that extortion can't be kept a secret from Buck for very long, and the younger Cannon seethes as having battles fought for him, no matter how imposing the opponent may be.

"Who's gonna say it wasn't a fair fight?  There's only you and me, and you'll be dead."

Spokes and Fiesta were almost solo flights for Buck, displaying the depth of that compassionate heart beating beneath the gruff exterior and essential decency that guides the younger Cannon.  In the former, Buck stands up to a tyrannical William Conrad (one year away from CANNON) on behalf of a friendless old trapper being wronged by cowardly townspeople under Conrad's thumb; in the latter, Buck protects an 11 year old boy who has been abused to the point of unresponsiveness.

Featuring the rest of the Chaparral clan far more equitably than those segments but staying focused on Buck, It Takes a Smart Man takes that sense of fairness and points it directly at his temple.

"John, I can't help it if I'm good with a gun.  That's a gift. That's like some people who can sing songs, some people can draw pictures."
"And you're just a natural born killer."

Buck Cannon is not such a man, and while his own prowess with a gun is considerable, he can't possibly win a draw against the fastest gun in the West.  Tulsa pushes Buck's buttons, but it's all business, nothing personal (at least initially).  Tulsa's hit upon the idea of getting paid not to use his peerless skill and uses Buck to get to John, putting the former's honor at stake.  Buck seems to be in a no-win situation: he can't possibly go high against Tulsa Red.  So justs how low will injustice-hating Buck be able to go?

"If you was to admit that you had made a mistake, I just might forget the whole thing."
"I don't make mistakes!"

That legendary speed with a gun isn't the only reason for Tulsa Red's arrogance--Tulsa takes great pride in his ability to read people, and to "stay within the rules" so that each fight is technically fair, even if the skill level is always lopsided.  Knowing John Cannon's integrity from the testimony has him correctly surmising John will back down and pay the money to protect his brother.  He also correctly assumes that Buck is as noble as his older brother. 

"I never figured you for a coward."
"Well, you live and you learn."

Extortion as a legitimate business can only work with a mark rich enough to pay you, so Tulsa heads for the Chaparral to begin his new "labors".  But while he's pegged John Cannon well enough to pull off the bluff, Red both under- and over-estimates Buck.  Both miscalculations contribute to his undoing.

"You're so willing to kill, you must be willing to die.  It's just the other side of the coin."

As noted, Tulsa Red has found a foolproof (he thinks) way to make money--his reputation does his work for him, and as long as he stays outside the parameters of murder, he'll avoid another close call like the one in K.C.  Tulsa Red's plan does not involve possibly dying for the cause.  Buck figures this out, and also knows that a successful blackmailer will go back to the well again.  Tulsa must be dealt with decisively.

Buck Cannon inspires loyalty--Mano, Sam, Pedro and John all want to help him, but can't.  As Mano learns in the opening scene, Tulsa Red has no amigos by choice.  Making an arrangement with the one friend who can help him (Mike the bartender) gives Buck his out for a true one-on-one showdown.  To Tulsa's surprise, the feared gunslinger finds himself in a battle that isn't fair.  And yet, legally, it is.  Freewheeling Buck Cannon is as adept at bending the rules as Tulsa is.

Buck Cannon has been irresponsible and often downright gullible (Stinky Flanagan) in prior years.  And for once, his tried and true aim can't help him.  But he has pretty fair acting ability of his own (calling Tulsa's bluff in the tensest moment) and reads the gunslinger well enough to find that crack in the armor and exploit it, beating a seemingly invincible opponent with his wits.  At the end of It Takes a Smart Man, we see that the younger Cannon isn't all that proud of what he's done, but ever the realist, he knows it was necessary.  And emotionally draining--not because of the fearsome opponent he just faced down, but due to the stress of going against his nature to do it.  Deep down, cheating bothers Buck more than death.  Arguably Mitchell's best delivery of the entire show is his final admission to brother John.

"You know what, John?  I don't fight fair."

Does the audience lose any respect for Buck?  Quite the opposite.  It indeed takes a smart man to outwit this adversary, and to do it without loss of life is one Hell of a plan from one Hell of a man.

Writer Sowards and director Benson were vets of CHAPARRAL and producer David Dortort's biggest hit, BONANZA.  They collaborated on A Piece of Land and Friends and Partners previously, two explorations of the friendship between Buck and Mano and the strengths and weaknesses of their similar lifestyle choices.  Here, Buck gets center stage, and Mitchell successfully navigates this far less humorous terrain.

The controlled anger from Cameron Mitchell is matched by the equally impressive performance from Richard Bradford (THE LEGEND OF BILLIE JEAN) as Tulsa.  Bradford conveys the arrogance of an undefeated champion and the desperation of a broke drifter--both forced (early on when he's convincing John Cannon to fold) and real (when the realization hits Red that Buck won't throw in his cards so easily).  And yes, that's Lieutenant Monahan himself (Garry Walberg) behind the bar in Tucson.  There are many rewarding installments throughout the show's run, and It Takes a Smart Man shows that even after nearly one hundred segments, Buck Cannon and THE HIGH CHAPARRAL are both still capable of finding new wrinkles.

THE HIGH CHAPARRAL airs weekdays at 9 A.M. on Heroes and Icons. 

F TROOP Fridays: "The Day The Indians Won" (1966)

This edition of F TROOP Fridays doubles as The Horn Section's contribution to the 4th Annual Favourite TV Show Episode Blogathon, hosted by Terence at A Shroud of Thoughts.  This is also the fourth consecutive year that The Horn Section has contributed to this March tradition. 

For the First Favourite TV Show Episode Blogathon back in 2015 I highlighted my favourite colour episode, Our Brave in F Troop.  This year, I will bookend my debut by putting the spotlight on my favorite F TROOP installment in glorious black and white.  Both episodes involve a successful invasion of Fort Courage by Chief Wild Eagle, and coincidentally, each was the penultimate segment of its respective season.

I admit that some of my affection for this particular episode stems from sentimental value. F TROOP began airing on KTVT Channel 11 locally in January 1981, but at 9 A.M. every morning--an impossibility for a 7th grader in the Winter.  Fortunately, Spring Break arrived in March, and I was able to acquaint myself for the first time with what would become my desert island TV show.

No, this wasn't the first F TROOP I ever saw: that was Play, Gypsy, Play.  It didn't even air during my scheduled week off.  But on Monday, March 16, 1981, everyone else went back to school--yours truly did not.  As luck would have it, I really was sick, extending my vacation until St. Patrick's Day.  Yes, one more day with the Fort Courage foul-ups before I had to return to pencils, books and teacher's dirty looks.  The Day the Indians Won was KTVT's offering that morning, making my already incredibly sore sides even more inflamed from uncontrollable laughter.  Little did I know it was also the last I would see of F TROOP for over a year.  Channel 11 replaced it with RICHARD SIMMONS before our summer vacation.   No doubt ratings plummeted.

But I digress.  This introduction has become long-winded enough.  Without further ado, the episode that turned a stomach virus into one of my fondest childhood memories:  

F TROOP Fridays:  Episode 17


F TROOP: "The Day the Indians Won" (Season 1, Episode 33: Warner Brothers/ABC-TV 1966) Original Air Date: May 3, 1966.  Starring Forrest Tucker as Sergeant O'Rourke, Larry Storch as Corporal Agarn, Ken Berry as Captain Parmenter, Melody Patterson as Wrangler Jane, Frank deKova as Wild Eagle, Don Diamond as Crazy Cat, James Hampton as Bugler Dobbs, Bob Steele as Duffy, Joe Brooks as Vanderbilt, Ben Frommer as Papa Bear.  Guest star: Lou Krugman as Snake Eyes.  Written by Ed James and Seaman Jacobs.  Directed by David Alexander.

Sensing a Hekawi uprising because they've been "quiet too long", Captain Parmenter dispatches Sergeant O'Rourke and Corporal Agarn to the native's camp, where, conveniently, the principal shareholders of O'Rourke Enterprises already have a board meeting scheduled.

The Sarge and his V.P. get the best laugh they've had all week out of the Captain's suspicions, but bloodthirsty Inspector Snake Eyes ("Council of Indian Nations - West!") doesn't find the Hekawi record so funny.  The incredulous investigator ticks off the record that is so dismal in the eyes of his superiors at C.I.N./W: "Not one massacre, not one town wiped out, not even one wagon train attacked.  For twenty years you not even fight Indians!"

The native examiner discounts Crazy Cat's victorious quarrel with his wife (Apache on her mother's side) and is unmoved when Wild Eagle points out their always timely dues payments:

Snake Eyes: "Money NOT everything!"
Wild Eagle: "Boy, have YOU got wrong tribe!"

Snake Eyes orders the Hekawi to stage an attack within a week ("Get mad!") or lose their membership in the Council.  The tribe apparently needs continued good standing in the Council pretty badly, since Wild Eagle resolves to attack their old enemies, the Shugs--recently weakened enough to give the Hekawi an almost Alamo-like numbers advantage.

The tribe's business partners from O'Rourke Enterprises offer their assistance in training (that is, once O'Rourke reminds Agarn of the potential impact on profits), but the ensuing exercise in futility results in a bunch of groaning, exhausted braves and O'Rourke's studied analysis that even the Shug's grandmothers would prevail in the hypothetical battle.  Chief Wild Eagle agrees, and offers an alternative: a Hekawi attack on Fort Courage--with the Sarge fixing the fight, of course.  With O'Rourke Enterprises also facing rapid bankruptcy in the event of a Hekawi wipeout, the Sarge has a true dilemma: his country, or his wallet?

Well, the decision takes about two seconds.  Guess which one wins out?

Crazy Cat: "O'Rourke, you very good friend.  Indians finally going to win!"
Agarn: "Just don't make a habit of it."

The final episode penned by series co-creators (with Jim Barnett) Ed James and Seaman Jacobs, The Day the Indians Won is a hilarious reversal of the typical threat to the F TROOP universe.  Typically it's a visiting Army officer (i.e. The New I.G.) who threatens to upset the peaceful co-existence at Fort Courage by wiping out the bloodthirsty "savages".  The tables are turned this time, with Snake Eyes positively infuriated by Wild Eagle's pacifist ways.

O'Rourke is usually stuck negotiating a price with the Hekawi chief for a phony attack to impress the brass; this time the Sarge gets to charge Wild Eagle for the "cost of this little uprising".  Hard to begrudge the soldier, since he earns his money.  First, he and Agarn spend hours attempting to train Crazy Cat and his fellow braves, who are just as inept at tomahawks and archery as their F Troop counterparts are at marksmanship.

Not where they were aiming, needless to say

Then, O'Rourke and Agarn really earn their pay by making Fort Courage ripe for the taking on Friday ("a good day for a defeat"), the day before Snake Eyes is set to return.  With a phony new treaty (complete with "no massacre clause") for Captain Parmenter to turn in to territorial headquarters, the business partners manage to get rid of the C.O. and half of the troop needed for escort.  Most crucial of all to the success of the scheme, they manage to get the best deadeye in the Fort--Wrangler Jane--to go along on the trip.

O'Rourke: "He's right, Agarn.  What are friends for?"
Agarn: "Anybody knows that.  To help you make money."

Although we're told there are four hundred Hekawi, Wild Eagle only brings a fifteen or so to mount his surprise assault on Fort Courage, which itself is down to nine men after Parmenter takes his escorts.  With Vanderbilt in the tower, "all is well" at 3:00 P.M. as Wild Eagle saws through the front gate, and the Chief delivers his ensuing victory speech with a mop bucket covering his left moccasin.  As hilarious as the training setpiece was in Act One, Alexander tops it with an even more furious barrage of visual gags to compete with the onslaught of the verbal ones from James and Jacobs.  It all adds up to a frenzied, satisfying payoff after all that buildup.

Wild Eagle: And use double knots on O'Rourke!
O'Rourke: (sotto) Wild Eagle, you don't need to tie me up, you know that!
Wild Eagle: (also sotto) Sorry, Sarge, got to make it look good!"

There is one NAGGING QUESTION left after one watches The Day the Indians Won, however, and it has to do with Snake Eyes' rather muddled motivation.  After Fort Hekawi is established, the inspector instructs Wild Eagle to massacre F Troop and burn the fort down.  "How else Indian get country back?"  Okay, fair enough, but if that's the case, why would the Inspector want the Hekawi to attack another tribe as he did earlier, just for the sake of fighting?  If, as Snake Eyes implies (as does the name of his Council), all the Natives are working together to get the U.S.A. back, wouldn't killing each other be detrimental to that ultimate goal by diminishing their numbers?

Still, that's a defect that you won't be thinking about until the episode is over.  It's a gratifying F TROOP swan song for Ed James and Seaman Jacobs.  Which begs the question: why did the writers of Here Comes the Tribe and A Fort's Best Friend is not a Mother (to name two great entries) become personas non gratas during Season Two?

Seaman Jacobs shed a little light during his seven part interview for the Archive of American Television in 1999.  Long story short: the co-creators wanted to also co-produce the series, but lost out to Hy Averback due to their lack of a production track record.  (FWIW, about that track record: none of Averback's three prior series in that capacity had made it to a second season.)  Averback understandably favored the less ambitious writer Arthur Julian over the men who wanted his job, and once Executive Producer William T. Orr lost his power struggle with Ben Kalmenson at Warner Brothers, Averback gained even greater control over F TROOP halfway through the first season.  Which meant more script assignments to Julian, and fewer to the originating J.J.'s. 

James and Jacobs wrote only three of the initial season's final 17 entries, and were completely eliminated from Season Two after Averback officially ascended to Executive Producer.  Meanwhile, Julian was solely credited with 16 installments during that 1966-67 season, and while The Singing Mountie and Reach for the Sky, Pardner were among the best color episodes, fatigue was clearly evident as Julian produced some of the weakest F TROOP segments ever (i.e. That's Show Biz; Marriage, Fort Courage Style) down the stretch.  Julian would have been much more effective with about three or four fewer teleplays on his workload IMO.

While consistently solid Nielsen ratings showed that F TROOP's popularity continued unabated, the show was diluted creatively in year two by the loss of its founders--also two of its best writers.  With frequent power struggles at its studio (series television lost its greatest champion at WB with Orr's ouster) and on the set, it's a wonder in hindsight that F TROOP survived its truncated network life to become such a durable syndication staple.

But rather than lament what might have been, I prefer to enjoy the mostly delightful sixty-five episodes that we do have.  Unapologetically boisterous, The Day the Indians Won is near the very top of that list.

WHAT'S THE FINAL TALLY?

This marks the final staged "battle" of the first season.  The troopers prevailed in Scourge of the West and Old Ironpants, while the Hekawis "won at last" in The New I.G. on their own turf and took Fort Courage in this one.  So it's a 2-2 tie, though the Hekawi might get a little extra consideration for the only "road win" in the series.

NUMBER OF TIMES O'ROURKE COULD HAVE BEEN CHARGED WITH TREASON:

This one has to be the most traitorous episode of all: lending Fort Courage to the Hekawis certainly surpasses loaning them the cannon.  Naturally, the boys are aware of it:

Agarn: "It's my conscience, Sarge!  A little voice keeps saying, Agarn--you're a Benedict Arnold!"
O'Rourke: "I got a little voice tellin' me somethin' too.  It keeps saying, O'Rourke--you're gonna get rich!"
Agarn: "I like your voice better."

PC, OR NOT PC?

The word "Injun" gets thrown around way too much here for modern sensibilities--even by Snake Eyes.  Speaking of, while he's just as bloodthirsty, the Native inspector has even less foresight and more cowardice than the Army I.G.'s that preceded him.  (In true F TROOP fashion, the Secretary of War can match him in the latter, given his reaction to seeing Geronimo in the flesh.)   On the other hand, pacifism continues to win out over hawkishness on both sides.

WISE OLD HEKAWI SAYING?

I guess there's little time for proverbs when you're preparing for battle, so it's up to Snake Eyes to give us a saying that apparently is even older than we thought: "Nice guys no win hunting grounds!"


THE BOTTOM LINE:

While it doesn't matter that much for a chosen favourite episode, this is one fond childhood memory that holds up to the greater scrutiny from adult eyes--it would be one of my favourites no matter when or how I discovered it.  The Day the Indians Won is a riotous coda for series creators James and Jacobs, with some of the show's guiltiest pleasures and cheapest belly laughs.  For F TROOP, each statement says a lot.  Like Our Brave in F Troop, it's easily one of the ten best segments of the series, and despite the lack of Hekawi wisdom, one of the most quotable as well.  (**** out of four)

Be sure to check out all the great entries in that March tradition, the Fourth Annual Favourite Episode Blogathon hosted by A Shroud of Thoughts!

MAVERICK Mondays: "The Jail at Junction Flats" (1958)

MAVERICK Mondays: Number 22

This special edition of MAVERICK Mondays is The Horn Section's contribution to The Classic TV Villain Blogathon, hosted by The Classic TV Blog Association (The Horn Section is a proud member).  The blogathon started yesterday and continues today, with over a dozen of your favorite television antagonists celebrated.

Dandy Jim Buckley's time on MAVERICK was truncated when 77 SUNSET STRIP became a hit and made star Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. unavailable midway through the 1958-59 season.  But in only five episodes, Buckley set the template for every charming rogue that bedeviled Bret and Bart after him.  None could match the original, who made his biggest splash in his penultimate MAVERICK appearance.

MAVERICK: "The Jail at Junction Flats" (ABC-TV/Warner Brothers 1958)  Starring James Garner as Bret Maverick, Efrem Zimbalist Jr. as Dandy Jim Buckley, Patrick McVey as Sheriff Pine, Jean Allison as Madame Higgins, Dan Blocker as Hognose Hughes, Bert Remsen as Deputy George, Claudia Bryar as Mrs. Pyne.  Written by Marion Hargrove and Elmer Kelton.  Directed by Walter Doniger.


Bret arrives in Broken Wheel, Wyoming determined to mind his own business: poker.  Unfortunately, he sees Dandy Jim Buckley when he pokes his head into the saloon, and is unable to duck before Buckley sees him.  It's a small world indeed (Bret's word is "crowded") but one with a new, honest Jim.  According to Jim, anyway.  Yes, the Dandy One insists that he has gone straight, and just needs a $2,000 loan to begin his legitimate horse purchasing business, promising Bret a 100 percent return on investment.  Against his better judgement, Bret agrees to back Buckley's venture.

Aided by a sudden--and phony--gold rush, Dandy Jim wildly exceeds his projection for equine sales with $10,000, but Bret wisely figures those customers will soon be seeking a refund.  With the intention of giving the townspeople their money back, Maverick splits the proceeds with Buckley---and awakens the next morning to find himself tied up with his money missing. 

Bret trails Buckley to the titular town and finds the Dandy One in its titular jail, having stashed the $10,000 and needing to be freed from the brick fortress in order to retrieve his money--and Bret's.  Just two problems: Sheriff Pine (still smarting from the legendary escape of "Hognose" Hughes years earlier) has turned Junction Flats' jail into an impenetrable brick fortress, and Dandy Jim is incarcerated for shooting Pine's nephew.

Bret, Bart and Beau Maverick faced a lot of corrupt lawmen, card cheats, and scoundrels during MAVERICK's five year run.  One antagonist stood out vividly, at least for Brother Bret: Dandy Jim Buckley.

Series creator Roy Huggins envisioned the conscienceless Buckley as a true rogue to contrast with our antihero Mavericks.  Jauntily played by Efrem Zimbalist Jr. as a dapper, unabashed cheat with a Harvard accent, he was most accurately described by writer Marion Hargrove's introduction to him on the script's cast page:


DANDY JIM BUCKLEY                         Friend to Dandy Jim Buckley.

Still, Dandy Jim Buckley might seem like a strange choice for this particular blogathon.  Is Buckley really a villain?  He was actually a genuine friend to the younger Maverick brother, providing valuable assistance when Bart was charged with murder in High Card Hangs.  And while Bret considered Jim a nemesis, the Dandy One helped Bart with the sting operation that retrieved Bret's stolen $15,000 in Shady Deal at Sunny Acres.  No question, these are points in Buckley's favor, but any doubter of Dandy's antagonistic credentials can have that dubiety assuaged in The Jail at Junction Flats. 

In fact, this episode is a landmark in television villainy.

"Bret, old boy!  Have you got any money?"

When Buckley debuted in Stampede he was everything Roy Huggins envisioned: Bret was forced to watch his back the entire time as the two recovered stolen money.  Maverick's situational ethics won out at that early stage for the show.  The Dandy One was not only forced to turn in the $40,000 for an honest ten percent reward, but saw his share left with the Sheriff and ended the episode behind bars. 

Stampede was a fine introduction to the rascally Buckley, but with an ending that made little progress towards Huggins' stated goal in creating MAVERICK: "to invert as many clichés and conventions as possible".  By the time The Jail at Junction Flats arrived a year later, confidence and subversion had both grown considerably, and Marion Hargrove was just the writer to concoct the installment that arguably best achieved Huggins' objective.

One just might subtitle The Jail at Junction Flats "Buckley's Revenge".  He lives rent-free inside Bret Maverick's head from fade-in to fade-out.

"I was minding my own business, which is poker.  One look into the community center and I knew I was in the wrong town."


Even the greatest professional poker player will have that nemesis that simply provides a bad matchup for him.  In the game's parlance, just the mere sight of Buckley puts Bret on tilt.  Maverick's unease in Dandy's presence is immediate and palpable:

With good reason.  As was the case with every episode, Bret just wants to get right down to making an honest living at the poker table--impossible with card-marking Buckley already there.  But things are going to be different this time: Bret never gets closer to a poker game than he is at the end of that opening narration: a brief glance, from outside the saloon.

Jim Buckley is after Bret's bankroll.  And later, Bret's horse, Bret's labor, Bret's time---face it, Bret's show.  And we're subtly invited to sympathize with Dandy throughout.  Buckley makes his entrance jovially and amiably--and pretty much grins for the duration, even singing a cheerful song in captivity.   In contrast, Bret often looks like he's trying to pass a kidney stone. 

With frequent close-ups, director Doniger aids this subversion often.  For example, while Buckley (using the alias "P. T. Barnum" after his Broken Wheel scam) consults with "lawyer" Maverick from his cell in the titular jail, Doniger has Buckley closest to the camera for most of the scene's duration, allowing us to see the wheels turning in Buckley's head instead of Bret's.

And with Bret gripping the bars from the outside,   Buckley doesn't break the fourth wall, but he doesn't need to.  We already know he's about to use Bret's own greed (and to a lesser extent--yes, decency) against him.  Later, when the tables are turned and Bret's the one in a cell, Doniger points his camera at Bret from outside the bars the entire time--it's telling that each two shot is not with Buckley, but the dimwitted Deputy George:

At least Hargrove doesn't take the narration away from Bret--he was saving that particular inversion for Gun-Shy.

"Hard work never killed anyone--who didn't do it"--Pappy

"It would be a pitiful thing if you had to work for a living.  Son, use your wits."--Pappy

With Pappy Beauregard Maverick's fine example set for them, it is any wonder that both Maverick brothers would wisely choose a profession that earns the greatest amount of money for the least amount of work?  But as mentioned earlier, Bret's nemesis has him off his game, and another glaring example is demonstrated when it's time to get Dandy out of that "absurd" jail.

Normally Bret would figure out a less physically taxing way to get Buckley out, but the best he can do here is taking a shovel, lantern and axe into the basement of an adjacent dress shop to dig Buckley's way to freedom.

Perhaps fatigue was a factor in Maverick's dearth of better ideas, since he'd had several sleepless nights restlessly wondering what Dandy was up to.  He could chalk up one more--the necessary tunnel proved to be an all night task.

Contrast this with Buckley's response to the same dilemma later.  Dandy arrives after dark, with the none too bright Deputy George on duty.  The assistant was easily distracted for Jim's escape earlier, even singing along with Jim's spirited rendition of All Quiet Along the Potomac Tonight.  Bret ended up incarcerated for abetting Buckley's escape, given away by the dirt under his fingernails; Dandy arrives wearing his trademark white gloves. 

Disarming George with a schoolyard trick, Buckley cracks the safe holding the keys afterward.  Considerably less strenuous than Bret's escape plan.

The one-upmanship continues for the duration.  Bret invests his $2,000 with Buckley, giving him a 150 percent profit in exchange for five nights of insomnia when the $4,000 turns into $10,000.  Buckley seizes the entire stake in Bret's sleep, and the shooting (in self-defense, as it turns out) lands Buckley in jail.  "Lawyer" Bret wrests the upper hand, gaining a 75/25 split in exchange for his services (granted, Bret works his ass off for it).  With Bret quickly locked up for aiding and abetting Buckley's escape, Dandy Jim gets his opportunity to reassert a 50/50 split, which he does--after leaving the heartbroken Sheriff locked in his own fortress, agonizing over what is now a trifecta of escapes.

And as the "friendly enemies" divide the money for the third and final time, Bret is careful to disarm Buckley and send him in the opposite direction.   Buckley U-turns some distance away, but after spending almost the entire episode playing defense, Bret has anticipated this and misdirected himself to avoid Dandy's pursuit.   We end up even-Steven.

Or do we?

Hey, I promised you a landmark television episode, and after that head fake the real finale delivers.  Having procured a buffalo rifle, ever resourceful Dandy Jim Buckley gets the drop on Bret after a dissolve, robbing him a second time (this time at gunpoint) and leaving with the entire $10,000.

That's right.  The bad guy wins.  In a Western.  Airing at 6:30 P.M. on Sundays.  In 1958.   With no Alfred Hitchcock appearing to reassure us that Buckley actually got his just desserts.

Our hero Bret Maverick ends up hogtied in the middle of nowhere, out a gun, a horse and $5,000...

...while Dandy Jim Buckley rides away with $10,000, $8,000 of it in decidedly ill-gotten profit, happily singing Weeping, Sad and Lonely.

It's pretty common today, but to say that television audiences weren't used to this six decades ago is an understatement.  Roy Huggins noted that MAVERICK dropped from a 46 share to a 42 the following week, and he received a number of letters from angry viewers.   But any loss of momentum for this one-of-a-kind Western was short-lived: two weeks later, Shady Deal at Sunny Acres (with Buckley returning) drew a 46 share.  Even-steven, just like Dandy Jim and Bret after their second confrontation.

"Weeping Sad and Lonely
Sighs and tears, how vain
When this cruel war is over
Praying then to meet again"

Unfortunately for us, Bret and Dandy never did meet again.  Hargrove originally had him aggravating Bret one last time in The Rivals, but Zimbalist's 77 SUNSET STRIP was a breakout hit in 1958-59 and made him unavailable for further MAVERICKs after his single scene with Bart in Shady Deal at Sunny Acres. 

Buckley was never far from memory:  Bart impersonated him in Pappy and several ersatz Dandy Jims followed, most notably Mike Road's Pearly Gates (replete with white gloves and refined manner).  But none matched the one-of-a-kind opposing force that Buckley established.

Zimbalist was off to represent law and order on 77 SUNSET STRIP and THE F.B.I. for better part of the next two decades.  Which is too bad.  A missed opportunity, IMO at least, for a Dandy Jim Buckley spinoff series.

"Buckley, you're a crook and a cheat and a double-crosser, but you're not a killer. You could no more squeeze that trigger than quit marking decks."--Bret in STAMPEDE

The Jail at Junction Flats isn't quite perfect.  Bret seems to give up way too easily in the denouement to a man he knows wouldn't kill him, as stated above.  There's also the little matter of the money that Buckley took to the poker room ($75 or so) at Junction Flats that magically reappeared for future divisions of the ten grand.  Nevertheless, when it comes to rewatchable MAVERICK segments, this groundbreaker is right up there at the top.

HOW'D BRET DO AT POKER?

Dandy Jim Buckley gets to play all of the poker--offscreen he makes it to the table in both Broken Wheel and Junction Flats--while Bret has to settle for a game of slapjack with Deputy George in this bizarre world MAVERICK.  Probably a good thing for Bret, who was running badly enough to lose his $2,000 bankroll away from the table.

WISDOM FROM PAPPY?

Dandy Jim Buckley usurps Pappy too, as we are devoid of Pappyisms this time.  Not to fear, Buckley is providing us with the pearls of wisdom that normally come from the eldest Maverick.  The two best:

"You can only feel so bad, Sheriff, and then the essential cheerfulness of a man takes over."

"The way lawyers take money is one thing.  The way thieves take it is another."

THE BOTTOM LINE:

Marion Hargrove takes the creator's stated objective for the series to another level in The Jail at Junction Flats: he inverts several MAVERICK inversions of the norm.  Not that he neglects the show's twisted way of doing business: Bret is punished for not going all the way with his grafting.  A kinder, gentler way to illustrate the fallacy of half-measures a half-century before Mike Ehrmantraut schooled Walter White?  Well, you could read it that way.  For my money, The Jail at Junction Flats is a better parody of MAVERICK itself than the more heralded Saga of Waco Williams, and is Dandy Jim Buckley's finest hour.  Hilarious, and too historically important not to rank at or near the show's top tier.  (**** out of four)


MAVERICK airs every Saturday morning at 9 A.M. Central on MeTV.

And, as I mentioned at the top, this post is part of the Classic TV Villain Blogathon!  Click on the link below to check out the other posts in this two-day blogathon featuring your favorite Classic Television antagonists.

https://classic-tv-blog-assoc.blogspot.com/2018/01/announcing-classic-tv-villain-blogathon.html