Originally aired on September 14, 1965.
Fifty years ago this week, Rawhide moved to Tuesday nights. As some of y'all have observed, the eighth season was more like a spin-off of the original series. Familiar characters were replaced with new ones, and it just wasn't Rawhide anymore. I had forgotten that this is the week we resume our viewing, so I quickly dashed off to the Internet Movie Database to get background info on the guest stars.
Dominating patriarch Morgan Kane hangs two men as punishment for murder. But were they guilty? You'll have to watch to find out!
Kane is played by Jeff Corey, a familiar actor and acting teacher whose career spanned at least part of eight decades. He was born on August 10, 1914 in New York City, and after appearing in Broadway productions during the 1930s he moved to Hollywood in 1940. He had small parts in a few films, then joined the U.S. Navy in 1943. He served as a motion picture combat photographer. Think about that for a second. While bombs and bullets are flying, a combat photographer attempts to capture the action on film. Talk about a rough "shooting schedule!"
While serving on the U.S.S. Yorktown, he filmed a kamikaze attack on the ship. This act of bravery earned him a citation from the Navy, if not an Oscar.
Despite his honorable combat service for the United States, he was not above suspicion from his own government. In 1951 Corey was subpoenaed to appear before the House Committee on Un-American Activities as a suspected communist. Actor Marc Lawrence had testified that Corey was a member of the Communist Party. Corey invoked his Fifth Amendment rights and chose not to testify. That came with a price, as the film industry had already decided to blacklist anyone who refused to testify under oath. Corey did not endear himself to the committee because he not only refused to testify, he critiqued the "acting" of the previous witness.
Corey hated Lawrence for the rest of his life. Corey was especially angry that Lawrence had avoided military service with a health deferment, while he himself had risked his life in combat.
After being blacklisted, Corey would not work in Hollywood again during the 1950s. However, the accusation against Corey was not without merit. While being interviewed for the 1997 book Tender Comrades, Corey admitted that he had been a member of the Communist Party but had left the movement. Nevertheless, he did not want to provide the committee with the names of other actors just to save himself.
During Corey's lean times in the 1950s, he helped support his family by teaching a speech class in the garage of his home. Soon, he added acting classes and his garage became a small theater. By the mid-1950s, Corey was one of the top acting teachers in Hollywood. Here's where it gets amusing: While production companies refused to hire the blacklisted Corey, they often sent their actors to study under him.
Corey's acting school was soon named the Professional Actors Workshop. Some of Corey's students included Robert Blake, James Dean, Kirk Douglas, Jane Fonda, Penny Marshall, Rita Moreno, Jack Nicholson, Leonard Nimoy, Anthony Perkins, Barbra Streisand and Robin Williams.
One of Corey's former students, Pat Boone, persuaded 20th-Century Fox to hire him for the 1963 film The Yellow Canary.
Off the blacklist, Corey resumed his acting career and found plenty of work. Y'all may remember seeing him as Sheriff Bledsoe in the 1969 film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid or as Wild Bill Hickok in the 1970 movie Little Big Man with Dustin Hoffman.
Corey had 233 credits during his long career, and his last onscreen appearance was in a 2000 episode of The District. He died on August 16, 2002 in Santa Monica, California.
We'll Simon Oakland as Sheriff Blaine. This is Oakland's second and final visit to the series. Y'all may remember seeing him in "Incident of the Travellin' Man," one of my favorite episodes. Born August 28, 1915 in New York City, Oakland started out as a concert violinist. In the 1940s, he transitioned to acting and appeared in some Broadway productions. As you can tell from his facial features, he was often cast as a tough guy. I remember him best as the psychologist who ties up the loose ends near the end of the 1960 thriller Psycho. Others remember him best as Lieutenant Schrank in the 1961 film adaptation of West Side Story.
Throughout his acting career, he maintained homes in both New York and California so he could work onstage and onscreen. He died of cancer on August 29, 1983, the day after his 68th birthday.
Get ready for the delightfully crazy Timothy Carey as Ed Walker. He was born March 11, 1929 in Brooklyn, New York. With his deep-set eyes, it probably won't surprise y'all that his first movie role was that of a corpse in the 1951 movie Across the Wide Missouri.
Carey appeared in several movies before turning in an impressive performance in the 1957 film Bayou. In that one, he played a psychotic Cajun named Ulysses, a character that was both evil and insane. The movie was later re-edited and re-released under the title Poor White Trash in 1961. With the money that movie has made over the years, it has become one of the top-grossing movies of 1957.
I thought this was cool: Carey wrote, produced, directed and starred in his own movie entitled The World's Greatest Sinner. The 1962 release is about a rock-and-roll-singing evangelist who gets carried away with himself. He names himself God, runs for president and then gets destroyed by God at the film's end. The film achieved cult status, and even Elvis Presley requested a copy of the movie from Carey. Being the unpredictable guy Carey was, he actually turned down Elvis' request. Dang!
To give you some idea of just how "out there" Carey was, here's how he treated a house guest. When Rawhide alumnus John Cassavetes ("Incident Near Gloomy River") visited Carey's house, Carey made him put on a padded suit, then set his attack dog on him.
Charles Herbert was a child actor who worked with Carey in the 1960 movie The Boy and the Pirates. Herbert later said "He on that movie, probably scared me more than The Colossus of New York (1958). But he was a nice man, and he always tried to make you feel 'I'm not really crazy,' and you would say 'Okay.' And then he would walk away and you'd go 'He's CRAZY!' He was a scary man."
When asked if he did drugs, Carey said "No, I'm a teetotaler I never even smoked. People were always offering me grass or cocaine. I got my own cocaine -- my own personality. I AM cocaine. What do I need that stuff for?"
Carey succumbed to a stroke on May 11, 1994. He was 65.