Post by mikef6 on Aug 7, 2018 18:37:11 GMT
Hopalong Cassidy was different from other cowboy hero because not only did he wear all black, but he was clearly an older man, a grandfather type, rather than a virile young star.
William Boyd started acting in bit parts during the silent era and worked his way up to leading man, starring in Cecil B. DeMille’s first version of “The Ten Commandments” in 1927. In 1933, his career was unfairly derailed when another actor named William Boyd got busted for gambling and bootlegging. Our guy was identified in the public’s mind with the other guy and he was quickly out of work. The best offer he could get was a new B-western based on a series of popular novels.
Several years ago, the Encore western channel ran some of the very first Hopalong Cassidy. Notable was the gravity of Boyd’s performances. When faced with an injustice, he could let his eyes and voice go all cold as if on the verge of a rage. Several times, there was the threat of veering off into adult western territory – although it never happened. That passed pretty quickly, however, and over the years the character mellowed so the Hoppy that most people came to know was a kindly old gentleman who didn’t drink, smoke, cuss or kiss girls – and he always shot the gun out of the bad guy’s hand instead of killing him.
When the B-western market dried up, Boyd had played Hopalong Cassidy and nothing else in movies for 13 years. He was aging, typecast, and out of work. At that point, he pulled one of the shrewdest moves in just about any actor’s career. He bought the “Hopalong” trademark and the rights to all his old movies then took them to that new-fangled contraption, television. It made him rich and more popular than ever because TV in its infancy badly needed programming to fill its available broadcast time.
He also shot a four year series of half-hour adventures about Hoppy which brought him even more fame and riches. The show was aimed at the youngest viewers but didn’t insult their intelligence. This is where the detective fiction entered the scene. Most episodes featured Hoppy pulling a twist ending out of his ten-gallon hat. At the end of each show, Hoppy would address his audience directly, urging his Little Partners to be careful crossing the street or to never play with guns.
One book I have says that, especially when he had retired rich, he gave generously to children’s hospitals, saying, “The way I figure it, if it weren’t for the kids, I’d be a bum today.”
According to the recent biography Robert Mitchum: “Baby, I Don’t Care” by Lee Server, Mitchum had made something of a name for himself in amateur theater in California, but his first professional work was as a bit player in 6 Hopalong Cassidy flicks. For many years, when Mitchum was asked what was his favorite of his own movies, he would answer, “Hoppy Serves A Writ.” (For the sarcastic impaired: Mitchum wasn’t taking the interview seriously).
Forgive me for being so long winded. Ten or a dozen or so years ago I had researched the Hopalong Cassidy phenomenon and gathered a lot of information. Basically, I’m just showing off.
William Boyd started acting in bit parts during the silent era and worked his way up to leading man, starring in Cecil B. DeMille’s first version of “The Ten Commandments” in 1927. In 1933, his career was unfairly derailed when another actor named William Boyd got busted for gambling and bootlegging. Our guy was identified in the public’s mind with the other guy and he was quickly out of work. The best offer he could get was a new B-western based on a series of popular novels.
Several years ago, the Encore western channel ran some of the very first Hopalong Cassidy. Notable was the gravity of Boyd’s performances. When faced with an injustice, he could let his eyes and voice go all cold as if on the verge of a rage. Several times, there was the threat of veering off into adult western territory – although it never happened. That passed pretty quickly, however, and over the years the character mellowed so the Hoppy that most people came to know was a kindly old gentleman who didn’t drink, smoke, cuss or kiss girls – and he always shot the gun out of the bad guy’s hand instead of killing him.
When the B-western market dried up, Boyd had played Hopalong Cassidy and nothing else in movies for 13 years. He was aging, typecast, and out of work. At that point, he pulled one of the shrewdest moves in just about any actor’s career. He bought the “Hopalong” trademark and the rights to all his old movies then took them to that new-fangled contraption, television. It made him rich and more popular than ever because TV in its infancy badly needed programming to fill its available broadcast time.
He also shot a four year series of half-hour adventures about Hoppy which brought him even more fame and riches. The show was aimed at the youngest viewers but didn’t insult their intelligence. This is where the detective fiction entered the scene. Most episodes featured Hoppy pulling a twist ending out of his ten-gallon hat. At the end of each show, Hoppy would address his audience directly, urging his Little Partners to be careful crossing the street or to never play with guns.
One book I have says that, especially when he had retired rich, he gave generously to children’s hospitals, saying, “The way I figure it, if it weren’t for the kids, I’d be a bum today.”
According to the recent biography Robert Mitchum: “Baby, I Don’t Care” by Lee Server, Mitchum had made something of a name for himself in amateur theater in California, but his first professional work was as a bit player in 6 Hopalong Cassidy flicks. For many years, when Mitchum was asked what was his favorite of his own movies, he would answer, “Hoppy Serves A Writ.” (For the sarcastic impaired: Mitchum wasn’t taking the interview seriously).
Forgive me for being so long winded. Ten or a dozen or so years ago I had researched the Hopalong Cassidy phenomenon and gathered a lot of information. Basically, I’m just showing off.