Part of the reason B-Westerns have pretty much failed to reach a wider audience until now has been the generally poor quality of available titles. Long forgotten independent studios produced many of the B-Westerns whose original negatives long ago turned to a vinegary goop, and even many of the larger studios that specialized in such films, most notably Republic Pictures, have seen many of their titles lapse into the public domain. Go to the corner video store and you're bound to find acres of early John Wayne Westerns like The Star Packer and Randy Rides Alone, or Roy Rogers films like My Pal Trigger, all at rock-bottom prices. Rarely, however, are these tapes and DVDs anything like watchable. Most look like they were mastered (or mastered off of somebody else's master of somebody else's master) off weather-beaten 16mm prints.

That's beginning to change, however. Gene Autry's estate is overseeing the restoration of both his features and TV show, while the owners of the Hopalong Cassidy films are gradually releasing those titles to DVD in newly minted versions. Autry's early Republic titles and the Hoppy films are 60-70 years old, yet these newly restored versions are generally in excellent condition, using film elements that are, in some cases, in better shape than more famous major studio titles of similar vintage. The high quality of these DVDs offer viewers a chance to experience B-Westerns not in the form of murky, splicing dupes on tape, but as they were meant to be seen, with digitally-cleaned up DVDs struck from original nitrate negatives and fine grains.

I was never much enamored of singing cowboy movies. For me, Gene Autry always looked more like a security guard at a bank than a cowboy. I admire his enormous talent as a singer-songwriter, but his modern-day Westerns always struck me as, well, odd.

The Hopalong Cassidy films, on the other hand, were real, honest-to-goodness Westerns. There was none of this mixing of 19th and 20th century elements like singing cowboy movies did, with rustlers making getaways in Ford sedans (though Gene and Roy always continued to pursue them on horseback), cow pokes teaming up with swing bands. The Hoppy films were the real thing, compelling stories with well-defined characters and, best of all, William Boyd -- ol' Hoppy himself.

Boyd was the center of the Hoppy universe. Over an incredible 66 feature films made between 1935-1948 (and a subsequent TV series), Boyd created one of the great Western movie icons. Quite unlike the literary figure created by Clarence E. Mulford, Boyd's Hoppy was the idealized Western hero: as a colleague of mine put it, a father, a brother, and a best friend all rolled up into one. With his shock of prematurely gray (white even) hair and warm laugh, he was at once a wise, quietly commanding leader and a common, unassuming man who heartily enjoyed life's simple pleasures. Some have suggested John Wayne based his persona partly on Hoppy, but Wayne drew his inspiration from silent star Harry Carey and the coaching of longtime actor friend Paul Fix. Boyd may have looked to Carey as well, but a lot of his character (and dress) seems inspired, at least in part, by the silent Westerns of William S. Hart.

In any case, early Hoppy films like Hopalong Rides Again (1937) and Heart of Arizona (1938) are especially interesting because on one hand everything that makes this series click is already in place, and yet these films lack the mechanical nature of the late-'40s entries, though even these are pretty good. To Mulford's dismay, Boyd gradually turned Hoppy into the personification of decency. Over time Hoppy (and, as it turned out, Boyd himself, as the two entities gradually seemed to merged into one) became a character that didn't smoke or drink, and never threw the first punch. In this collection of DVDs, however (sold under the banner "Hop-a-long Cassidy -- The Early Years"), we see glimpses of a darker side to the character. Shoot a friend of Hoppy's in the back, better watch out! In these films, Hoppy can be full of steely-eyed vengeance. Moreover, these pictures are unexpectedly violent for their day. In one film, a villain on horseback lassos an old man in a wheelchair, drags him backward through town at a gallop, then crashes the man and the chair into the back of a stagecoach, graphically breaking the old man's neck. This isn't exactly The Wild Bunch, but for movies made several years into Hollywood's self-imposed Production Code, these early films are often surprising.

They feature the almost classical teaming of Hoppy with two wonderfully played stock characters. George (later "Gabby") Hayes co-stars in most of these early films as Windy Haliday, the bearded, toothless sidekick given to telling tall tales, cooking bad meals, and belly-aching about everything from "wimin'" to young whippersnappers who can't tell a horse from an old mule. The triumvirate is completed with Russell Hayden's Lucky Jenkins, a young disciple of Hoppy's who delights in teasing Windy at every opportunity. They fight constantly, but both characters adore Hoppy, and it's this loyalty and obviously warm friendship they share that really makes the series click. There is very nearly a Hoppy stock company too, with familiar faces like Morris Ankrum (then acting under the name Stephen Morris) and Alan Bridge (also part of Preston Sturges' company, memorable as The Mister in Sullivan's Travels) appearing regularly. Even Lee J. Cobb turns up in two films -- one with his toupee, one without.

Video & Audio

Both Hopalong Rides Again and Heart of Arizona are given typically nice transfers, with deep blacks and a sharp image, which does justice to Russell Harlan's often superb location photography. (Harlan later worked as Howard Hawks' regular cinematographer, on many of that director's best films.) Hopalong Rides Again is the weaker of the two image-wise, with some reels a bit dark and soft, but Heart of Arizona looks pristine. Some of the Hoppy features use newer main titles created in the 1950s for TV release, but both Hopalong Rides Again and Heart of Arizona have their original openings, complete with the Paramount logo. Some of the earlier Hoppy titles were given pseudo-stereophonic remixes; this feature has thankfully been dropped, especially given the better-than-you'd-expect quality of the standard mono sound.

Extras

Extras include a very nice collection of lobby cards and publicity stills. Better still is a seemingly endless parade of Hopalong collectables, most dating from the late-1940s/early-1950s. Appropriately listed as a "museum exhibit" on the packaging, the several hundred images will surely take many nostalgic viewers down memory lane. Lastly is a tantalizing preview to a yet to be released documentary, "Hopalong Cassidy: Public Hero #1," featuring host Dennis Weaver and scholar Leonard Maltin. Fred Romary, associate editor of the "Hoppy Talk" newsletter, contributes extensive liner notes. His behind-the-scenes information is fascinating; my only complaint here is that his writing often leans too heavily on plot summaries, which seem pointless for the purposes of a DVD.

Parting Thoughts

Watching my first Hopalong Cassidy movie, my initial reaction to William Boyd was, "Who's this old man?!" By the end of the picture, though, I was hooked. After a steady stream of Hopalong titles, Image and partner Corinth Films have, to my knowledge, no new titles ready for release. I hope that's not the case, however, because in these troubled times, spending 60-something-minutes with Windy, Lucky, and especially Hoppy is the very best kind of escapist fare.