Aside from the exhaustion of always playing catch up, Ben was contented. Peter Duel was a good guy to work with and even if they often worked from early morning until late at night, Ben told a Movieland reporter that summer, “I’ve never been happier, thanks to the opportunity to act regularly.” [53] Working with Peter was part of the fun because at the time Ben said, “Pete and I didn’t really work as hard as we might have done…We never learned our lines properly or went through the usual system of rehearsal…But the series seemed to gain rather than lose by this, because Pete and I could improvise together and it would always work…” [54]
Though in truth, the premise of Alias Smith and Jones was borrowed from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Ben didn’t base his Kid Curry character on anything particular in the movie or from his own life. There’s a lot of Ben Murphy in his characterization of Curry but he puts himself into any part he plays because “for me that’s the only way it’s convincing and real…I just take out different bits of me for different roles.” The role of Curry “was just based on fun, having a good time, if anything. An adventure.” [55]
Playing a cowboy was new to Ben. He had done some horseback riding before he got the role of Kid Curry, but he wasn’t very good. “I was never a horseman, never pretended to be. I didn’t consider myself a very good actor on Alias Smith and Jones either. I was just a smart actor.” For him, that meant making friends with the wranglers who would look after him. He was clever enough not to act like he knew more than he really did because “the wranglers are gonna show you you don’t eventually. So you make sure that they’re your friends and I did that…I was well-coached.” His favorite wrangler was also the head stuntman, Monty Laird. Ben was an “excellent student,” Laird remembered. “With props, he’[d] take any advice from anybody in order to be able to use that prop correctly.” Laird wasn’t Ben’s only stunt double; Jimmy Nickerson and Chris Howell also stood in for him during dangerous scenes, such as fist fights and hopping freight cars.
Laird was a gunsmith who crafted the American-made Smith and Wesson Scofield pistols that Ben used on the show. [56] For Ben, who has kept one of the guns he used, “the most important thing for the Western actor is to be able to draw a gun convincingly…If you’re gonna see a picture of the whole guy, that’s something that just can’t be faked. The only way they could do it would be to take a close-up shot of some other guy’s hand and flash it in. But most actors — including me even — manage to get as far as looking pretty dangerous on the draw!” [57] The speed and actual quick shooting could be later spliced in using film taken of a real professional fast draw, like Laird.
Besides coaching the main stars in horseback riding and marksmanship and filling in bit roles as telegrapher, posse member, or poker player, Laird was in charge of finding horses to suit the guest stars. Dennis Fimple recalled that he didn’t want a horse that went fast — “I ain’t no hero!…I just want one that I can talk to and we can get along.” Laird found just the right animal for him and became Fimple’s hero of horsemanship after that. Fimple would ask the stuntman how he looked. “Ya look good,” Laird told him. “And tuck your legs in when you’re tearing ass across here…” Fimple tried to remember all the tricks but he recalled one time when “Monty [and the other riders] were following us. I looked over and this guy falls off his horse right in the middle, and there’s like thirty riders. It’s Monty. Monty! My God, he’s telling me how to do it…The lines broke and he couldn’t do anything about it. I thought, ‘Boy, you’re a good teacher, aren’t ya? Do as I say, not as I do.’ ” [58]
Not only did the non-horsemen have to stay on their horses and look like they knew what they were doing with cowboy gear, but another thing Fimple and other guest stars, as well as Peter Duel and Ben Murphy, had to learn was to get the lines exactly right. To this day, Ben shakes his head, wondering how often he frustrated Roy Huggins by not getting the lines right. “I’m sure there were many times they wanted to tear their hair out,” he says. After long hours on the set, Ben recalls that he goofed up more often than he uttered a gem of an ad lib. At times he didn’t say what was written in the script, or he paraphrased it, or, “I forgot it quite frankly, and I was too tired to remember it that day on the fifth take or something…Then the producer has to just start cutting like crazy and make it work or loop it in later.” If that were the case, after some rest, Ben would head for the dubbing stage where he would recite his lines off-camera to get the information out the writers needed to tell the story. Fimple verified Ben’s observation. “Sometimes they wouldn’t let you get away with changing a ‘that’ to a ‘but’. You gotta have it word for word for word.” [59]
In this regard, director Alex Singer felt Huggins might have been a little more stringent than most producers. “The dialogue was kind of polished to a fare-theewell and changes in it were generally changes in, he felt, changes in content, in substance. I think he was very sensitive to that…They had to call in and say, ‘Is it okay to say, “Thursday morning” instead of “Thursday afternoon”?’ And the answer might be ‘No, because we refer to Thursday afternoon in three other scenes.’ There usually was a structural reason for a bit of dialogue, even the most casual thing, so…improvisation in dialogue was problematic.” [60]
After nearly eleven weeks on hiatus from the show, Ben told Rochester, New York, reporter Tom Green that, in spite of the tensions, “I love Smith and Jones. I wouldn't want to be doing any other series. It pretends only to be entertainment, not social comment…There’s nothing phony about it.” He was eager to demonstrate to the fall competition that the show could hold its own. “I’ve never been bothered by Flip Wilson. Having Family Affair on CBS was tough, too. I’m going to be glad to get up against a new show on CBS. I think they’re going to be in trouble.” [61] To get ready for the second season, Ben changed his hat and “tried to make it cool…I went out and designed it.” [62] Monty Laird gave him a hand and suggested he put buckles on it. Ben also changed the other clothing Kid Curry wore. Because the first season was done in a rush, everything was off the rack and it was scratchy wool, too hot for Southern California. Ben changed all his clothing to cottons for comfort.
By mid-June, everything was in place in order to begin the second season. Shooting started on June 23 with “Jailbreak at Junction City.” The ninety-minute episode “The Day They Hanged Kid Curry,” the second season premiere, took eleven days to film in July. After that, filming continued with hardly a break until Friday, September 3, when Peter and Ben left for a week-long promotional tour. Throughout that summer of 1971, except for four pre-emptions for Tom Jones specials, Alias Smith and Jones aired in re-runs. ABC hoped the continued exposure would help the show find its audience. [63]
On September 9, ABC aired the pilot as a way to re-introduce Hannibal Heyes, Kid Curry and their decision to seek amnesty. A week later, the second season officially premiered. Competition would be unrelenting from The Flip Wilson Show on NBC and Bearcats on CBS. The latter would fall victim to the Flip Wilson phenomenon, lasting only a half-season. The Los Angeles Herald-Examiner reported that as far as Alias Smith and Jones was concerned, “a fuss is being made, names are signed and brave words are bandied about yet nobody expects to give Wilson a serious run.” That would remain to be seen. [64]
Jerry Ohlinger’s Movie Materials Store
Courtesy of Ben Murphy
Jerry Ohlinger’s Movie Materials Store
Courtesy of Ben Murphy
Jerry Ohlinger’s Movie Materials Store
Courtesy of Ben Murphy
Chapter 5
The Second Season: So All We Gotta Do Is Stay Out of Trouble for One Year?
September 16, 1971-January 27, 1972
Second Season Credits (1971-72)
DIRECTOR: Barry Shear, Alexander Singer, Jeffrey Hayden, Fernando Lamas, Harry Falk, Jack Arnold, Nicholas Colasanto, Russ Mayberry, Vincent Sherman, Mel Ferber, Richard Benedict, Jeff Corey, Bruce Bilson, John Dumas, Richard L. Bare
; CASTING: Joe Reich
PRODUCTION MANAGER: Dick Birnie
UNIT MANAGER: Bud Brill, Burt Astor, Carl Beringer
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR: Warren Smith, John Gaudioso
2ND ASSISTANT DIRECTOR: Mike Kusley, Bob Gilmore
ART DIRECTOR: Bob Luthardt, Phil Bennett
SET DECORATOR: Bert Allen
PROPS: Bob Bone, Dean O’Connor, Bill Smallback, Solly Martino
SCRIPT SUPERVISOR: Al Pagonis
CAMERA: John M. Stephens, William Cronjager, E. Charles Straumer
SOUND: Earl N. Crain, Jr.
WARDROBE — MEN: Harry Pasen, Jack Takeuchi, Bert Henrikson, Forrest (T-Bone) Butler
WARDROBE — WOMEN: Pamela Wise, Nina Joseph, Chuck Waldo, Leah Rhodes
PUBLICITY: Allan Cahan
EDITORIAL SUPERVISION: Richard Belding
EDITOR: John Dumas, Albert Zuniga, Richard Bracken, Bud Hoffman, Byron Brandt, Terry Williams, Gloryette Clark, Henry Batista
ASSISTANT EDITOR: Jack Woelz, Bob Bradshaw, Ron Lavine, Reg Browne, Jerry Ludwig, Bill Parker, Ron Krekel, Rick Brandon, Bud Hayes
The Day They Hanged Kid Curry
“There’s only one thing in the world we’re better at than breakin’ into banks and that’s breakin’ out of jail.”
Kid Curry
STORY: JOHN THOMAS JAMES
TELEPLAY: GLEN A. LARSON
DIRECTOR: BARRY SHEAR
SHOOTING DATES: JULY 1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 12, 13, 14, 15, 1971
ORIGINAL US AIR DATE: SEPTEMBER 16, 1971
ORIGINAL UK AIR DATE: NOT AIRED
Hannibal Heyes arrives in a horse-drawn hansom at Silky O’Sullivan’s San Francisco mansion. The fare is $1, but Heyes only has six bits and a $20 bill. He considers borrowing the dollar from Silky, but at that prospect, the driver is willing to settle for the six bits. When the driver wonders how Silky acquired his name, O’Sullivan screeches, “On account of my lyrical voice!–Now git!”
Heyes says he and the Kid ran into some trouble up north and had to split up. They planned to meet at Silky’s but Silky informs him Curry is on trial for murder.
Heyes travels to Red Rock, Montana, and strides down the main street past carpenters busy building a gallows. He enters the courthouse in time to hear Mr. Hanson, the prosecutor, promising to prove Kid Curry murdered Warren Boggs. Curry is seated in the front row and, though he can only see his back, Heyes’s shoulders slump at the sight.
Penelope Roach takes the stand and testifies that the defendant told her he was Kid Curry. When Hanson asks questions about Curry’s past crimes, the judge rules them irrelevant and adjourns the court. As the gallery of onlookers rises to leave, Heyes hisses Curry’s name. When the curly-headed man turns around, Heyes is surprised to see the face of a complete stranger. Befuddled, Heyes turns to leave and spots the Jed Curry he knows leaning against the doorframe, tipping his hat and smiling.
Curry is pleased with the good luck that has come his way. When the defendant is hanged in his name, he’ll be a free man because lawmen will stop looking for him. Unfortunately, as Heyes points out, two men were involved in the murder, the other very much resembling himself. Curry wishes him good luck.
Over beers at the saloon, Heyes ponders how to get “the Kid” to change his story. Curry has an idea and Heyes is desperate enough to try it.
In the sheriff ’s office, Heyes identifies himself as “the Kid’s” cousin from the honest side of the family. After being searched, Heyes is let into “the Kid’s” cell and when questioned, the prisoner denies killing Boggs. Heyes doesn’t believe him because he knows he’s lying about being Kid Curry. “The Kid” knows he’s going to be hanged and decides to go out in style. He was jailed once before for resembling the real outlaw, but was released after Sheriff Lom “Travers” said he wasn’t Curry. The respect he got when people thought he was Kid Curry made him want to adopt the persona. He feels no remorse for further tainting the real Kid’s reputation and scoffs at Heyes’s suggestion that he might go the sheriff about “the Kid” not being who he says he is.
Curry bathes in bubbles as Heyes enters their hotel room and pours himself a drink. “He doesn’t mind dying with his boots on,” Heyes tells him, “as long as they’re yours.” Curry is charmed until Heyes reminds him of the possibility a lawman might see Curry after he’s been legally hanged. Think of the consequences then! What would the governor of Wyoming say?
Curry suggests Lom identify “the Kid,” but Lom is in Mexico and couldn’t make it back in time. They have to ensure “the Kid” is acquitted because then he’ll be sent back to Wyoming where proper identification will be made.
Curry meets “the Kid’s” girlfriend Penny in the saloon where she works. She tells him that a Jack Brown came into town and got together with “Jed.” She thinks they planned on robbing a poker game at a house outside of town. A ranch hand caught them sneaking around and Jack Brown killed him and escaped.
Testifying in court, “the Kid” said he and Jack Brown were headed out to participate in a poker game to which Jack had been invited. Rich ranchers played poorly but for big stakes. “The Kid” needed money and was a pretty good player, so he went along. As they were riding up, a ranch hand came out of nowhere. Jack shot him and rode off. The prosecutor questions “the Kid’s” story, wondering why they snuck up surreptitiously on the house if not for criminal intent.
Hunched morosely over the saloon’s bar, Heyes admits he believes “the Kid’s” story. Nobody could make one up that bad.
Back in the courtroom, the jury finds “the Kid” guilty.
Meanwhile, in Devil’s Hole, Wheat Carlson barges in on the gang’s poker game. He’s heard the news of Curry’s arrest and conviction and proposes to bust him out of jail. His rousing speech fails to inspire the gang who has no intention of mingling in Curry’s sad affair. Kyle, reticent at first, hikes up his britches and hustles to join Wheat on the ride to Red Rock.
The sheriff is prepared for anything the Devil’s Hole Gang might contrive and hands out rifles to all his deputies with orders to keep alert.
Seeing the readiness as they ride into town, Kyle wonders if what they’re doing is a good idea. They surprise Heyes in the saloon and are in turn astonished when Kid Curry joins them. Heyes and Curry fill in their former partners on the whole story and Wheat has to wonder why “the Kid” would do such a fool thing. (He plumb forgot about the “glamour and glory” of being a real outlaw.) Heyes has a plan but Wheat doubts it’ll work if it doesn’t involve dynamite. It involves having Penny talking him into telling the truth. It backfires when “the Kid” refuses to see her.
A carnival atmosphere prevails in Red Rock on the day of the hanging with balloons, calliope music and popcorn vendors. “The Kid” is led up to the gallows and allowed to make a final statement. He replies to the judge’s questions that, yes, the man he was with the night of the murder was Hannibal Heyes.
Heyes stomps off and a few minutes later dashes up to the gallows on horseback with the news that his cousin’s grandma is coming to say good-bye. Overriding the disappointed shouts of the crowd, the judge postpones the hanging.
A few minutes later, Heyes is let into “the Kid’s” cell. As soon as the deputy departs, “Kid” grabs him by the lapels, angry because he was all ready to die. Heyes grabs “Kid” by his lapels and throws him onto the cot. “That makes one of us, because I wasn’t.” “Kid” realizes with horror that the man pretending to be his cousin is the real Hannibal Heyes. Though he’s respectful of Heyes and sorry for the position he’s put him in, he refuses to change his story.
Back at the saloon, Heyes is determined to save “the Kid” from hanging. Wheat insists the only way is to “bust him outta jail.” Instead Heyes sends Wheat and Kyle back to Devil’s Hole by way of Hillsdale. Their orders are to send a telegram to Silky O’Sullivan asking “Grandma Curry” to come to Red Rock. Wheat and Kyle dig deep for the $1.75 the telegram costs, then steal it back at gunpoint after the telegrapher sends the mess
age.
Silky departs the train in Red Rock dressed in drag as Grandma Curry. At the sight of the boys, “Grandma” threatens to turn them both in if the situation is not a matter of life and death. He de-wigs at the hotel, telling them he had to come, no one else he knew would play “Grandma,” not even 88-year-old Emma Holstem. Happy to see him, Heyes relates the plan. At the first mention that he must enter the jail with a gun strapped to his leg, Silky protests. In all his checkered career, he never had anything to do with guns. The boys soothe him, confident his part of the plan is foolproof. He’ll change into his own clothes, register at the hotel and take the train home the next day.
Once again the sheriff passes out rifles to his deputies and warns them to be on the lookout for the Devil’s Hole Gang. “Grandma” and Heyes arrive at the sheriff ’s office. Because “Grandma” must be searched before seeing her “grandson,” Heyes and Deputy Hollis go looking for a woman to do it. While they’re gone, “Grandma” and the sheriff exchange flirtatious giggles.
Alias Smith & Jones: The Story of Two Pretty Good Bad Men Page 18