Tag Archives: Bing Russell

Billy The Kid Versus Dracula (1966, directed by William Beaudine)

Posted on by Jedadiah Leland

Dracula comes to the old west!

The count (John Carradine) has been traveling across the frontier, feasting on settlers and stagecoach riders.  When he comes to a town in the middle of nowhere, he poses as the uncle of saloon owner Betty Bentley (Melinda Plowman).  Using the name Mr. Underhill, Dracula hopes to make Betty into his latest bride.  Everything about Mr. Underhill indicates that he is a vampire but Betty refuses to believe it.  Even when she’s told that Mr. Underhill doesn’t cast a reflection, Betty dismisses it as just being “the old vampire test.”  Two German servants recognize her uncle as being a vampire and Betty again refuses to believe them.  Betty’s fiancé, Billy the Kid (Chuck Courtney), realizes that there is something wrong with Mr. Underhill but can he save his future wife?

The idea of vampires in the old west is one that has inspired a surprising number of movies, most of which are considerably better than Billy The Kid Versus Dracula.  In this movie, Chuck Courtney plays one of the old west’s most notorious outlaws but he’s portrayed as being one of the most upstanding members of his community.  John Carradine plays the world’s most notorious vampire but just comes across as being a grouchy old man.  Chuck Courtney is a convincing westerner but not a very interesting actor.  John Carradine sleepwalks through the role and later said Billy The Kid Versus Dracula was the only one of his many films that he actively disliked.  The movie was shot in 8 days and it looks like it.

This was also the final film of director William Beaudine, who had directed his first film 51 years earlier.  The film was released on a double feature with Beaudine’s Jesse James Meets Frankenstein’s Daughter.  Everyone ended up in the old west eventually.

Retro Television Reviews: Death Sentence (dir by E.W. Swackhamer)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past!  On Sundays, I will be reviewing the made-for-television movies that used to be a primetime mainstay.  Today’s film is 1974’s Death Sentence!  It  can be viewed on YouTube!

There’s been a murder!

A young woman has been strangled in her own home.  The nosy neighbor (Hope Summers) testifies that the woman often argued with her woman and that she heard the woman yelling on the night of the murder.  The husband, John Healy (Nick Nolte), is found in a neighborhood bar and, when he’s brought back to his house, his drunken reaction to seeing his dead wife doesn’t do much to keep him from looking totally guilty.

However, the viewer knows that John is innocent because the viewer has already seen that the woman was murdered by Don Davies (Laurence Luckinbill), the man with whom she was having an affair.  She demanded that he leave his wife for her and Don, realizing that his cheating was about to revealed, responded by strangling her.

Don’s wife is Susan Davies (Cloris Leachman), who knows that she and Don have been going through a rough patch but who certainly had no idea that Don was cheating on her.  Shortly after the murder, Susan is called up for jury duty.  She’s placed on the jury and told that she will be an important part of a major trial.  As a result, she and the other jurors will be sequestered in a hotel….

And who is the defendant in this trial?  John, of course!

As opposed to the other members of the jury, who are ready to convict John even before the first bit of testimony is heard, Susan pays attention to what is said in the courtroom.  She listens to Lubell (Alan Oppenheimer), the prosecutor.  She listens to Tanner (William Schallert), the defense attorney.  She comes to believe that John is innocent but will she be able to hold her own against the rest of the jury?  And will she ever figure out that the murder was actually committed by her husband?

It’s an intriguing premise, even if it is a bit far-fetched.  I mean, it really is an amazing coincidence that Susan just happened to end up on the jury for a case involving a murder that was actually committed by her husband.  However, this is a made-for-television movie and, as soon as “Produced by Aaron Spelling” appears on the screen, most viewers should be savvy enough to know what they’re getting into.  Instead, the main problem with the film is that it opens by showing us who the murderer is.  Therefore, there’s really zero suspense as to who actually committed the crime.  Instead, the viewer spends the entire movie waiting for Susan to catch up.  Since the majority of the film takes place in court, it’s a very talky film but there’s no joy to be found in paying close attention to every word said and picking up on the details that will allow you to solve the crime for yourself.  This is a case where the film spoils its biggest twist and, despite good performances from Leachman and Luckinbill, it’s a bit dull.

(Nick Nolte, for his part, spends most of the movie silently sitting in the courtroom.  He’s not bad and his look of anguish is believable but it’s hardly a starring role, regardless of what the film’s video packaging might otherwise claim.)

In the end, what I’ll mostly remember about Death Sentence were the atrocious fashion choices made by the prosecutor.  Seriously, would you trust a man wearing this suit?

The Battered Bastards of Baseball (2014, dir. by Chapman Way and Maclain Way)

Posted on by Dazzling Erin

If you’re like me and you’re already missing baseball, I recommend watching a documentary called The Battered Bastards of Baseball.

In 1972, Portland, Oregon lost their minor league baseball team when the Portland Beavers abandoned the city in order to become the Spokane Indians.  At the same time, actor Bing Russell, a former minor leaguer and the father of Kurt Russell, had grown tired of Hollywood and was looking to get back into baseball.  Relocating to Portland, Russell announced that he was going to start his own independent minor league team, the Portland Mavericks.

At first, no one took the Mavericks seriously.  Because they weren’t affiliated with a major league team, the Mavericks roster was largely made up of misfits and rulebreakers, many of whom had been released from other organizations and who had been blacklisted from the major leagues.  On average, most of the Mavericks players were older than the average major leaguer.  Many of them were players who were looking for one last shot at glory and Bing refused to cut any of them because he felt that that they deserved that chance.  When the skeptical media asked Bing what the Mavericks were going to offer that other baseball teams couldn’t, he replied, “Fun.”

And he delivered.  From 1973 to 1977, the Mavericks played exciting baseball, won divisional and league titles, and, most importantly, they put on a good show.  Playing mostly for the love of the game (because Russell never had much money to spend on salaries), the Mavericks reminded people of what baseball was all about.  They pulled off amazing plays on the field while their off-field antics were legendary.  The Mavericks played baseball the way that people wanted to see baseball played, with one manager living every fan’s dream by punching an umpire.

The Battered Bastards of Baseball tells the story of the Mavericks and Bing Russell.  It features archival footage of the Mavericks at play, along with interviews with people like Kurt Russell, who briefly played for the Mavericks and then served as one of their vice presidents.   The documentary pays tribute to the players who never gave up, the fans who eventually welcomed them to a new town, and most of all to the vision and determination of Bing Russell.  Even while Bing was bringing the fun back to baseball, he was also breaking down other barriers by hiring professional baseball’s first female general manager, as well as the first Asian American general manager.

Most importantly, though, The Battered Bastards of Baseball reminds us of why people love baseball in the first place.  It celebrates the game, the players, and most of all the fans.  It’s a documentary that will just leave you in a good mood.  That’s something we all could use!

Kurt Russell as a Maverick

Yuma (1971, directed by Ted Post)

Posted on by Jedadiah Leland

At the start of this made-for-TV western, experienced lawman Dave Harmon (Clint Walker) has just been appointed the new marshal of Yuma.  He’s served as the marshal of several towns, all of which were near rowdy army bases.  He’s a laconic, no-nonsense lawman who is quick with a gun and smart enough to negotiate with the local Indian tribes.

As soon as Harmon rides into town, he comes across the King Brothers (Bruce Glover and Bing Russell) making trouble.  He kills one of the brothers in a saloon and then takes the other one to jail, where he’s mysteriously gunned down during a midnight jailbreak.  It turns out that there’s a third Harmon brother, cattle baron Arch King (Morgan Woodward), and he rides into town looking for revenge.  He gives Harmon a set amount of time to find and arrest his brother’s killer or Arch and his men are going to return to town and kill Harmon.

Fortunately, Harmon has a witness to the jailbreak murder.  Andres (Miguel Alejandro) is a young, Mexican orphan who sleeps at the jail.  He witnessed the murder but he only saw that the killer was wearing what appeared to be army boots.  Harmon’s investigation brings him into conflict with the local army base’s commandant (Peter Mark Richman) and also leads to the discovery of a plot to defraud the local Indians.

The main problem with Yuma is that it was clearly designed to be a pilot for a weekly television series and, as a result, it introduces a lot of characters who don’t get much to do.  There’s a lot of talk about how Harmon is searching for the men who earlier killed his family but that subplot is never resolved.  (If Yuma had been picked up as a weekly show, maybe it would have been.)  Yuma has to set up the premise for a potential show and tell a complete story in just 70 minutes.  That’s a lot to handle and Yuma ends up feeling rushed and incomplete.

As a B-western for undemanding fans of the genre, it’s acceptable.  Clint Walker was a convincing lawman and the film was directed by Ted Post, who knew how to stage a gunfight.  But it’s not really a western that you’re going to remember for long after you watch it.