Journal Notes

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Cowboys, Creatures and Classics: The Story of Republic Pictures

Zombies of the Stratosphere was one of three movies Republic produced dealing with a Mars invasion. Another profitable serial the studio made was Panther Girl of the Kongo. When wildlife photographer Jean Evans discovers a giant crab-like creature in the jungles of southern Africa, she sends word to a big game hunter and friend Larry Sanders for help. The pair soon learn these large crustaceans are the work of a mad scientist who wants to scare the population away from the area to operate a diamond mine. Jean, nicknamed the Panther Girl by the tribal locals because she shot a panther that had been terrorizing the village, and Larry are determined to find the mad scientist and stop him. Along the way, the pair must battle oversized sea urchins, wild animals, creepy henchmen, and inclement weather. They must survive gun battles, falls into quicksand, the roaring rapids, poison darts, and angry gorillas.

Panther Girl of the Kongo starring Phyllis Coats was the most expensive serial Republic Pictures produced in the 1950s. A great deal of footage used to make this film had been originally shot in 1941 for the movie Jungle Girl. Frances Gifford, the star in Jungle Girl, was the first female lead in a Republic serial, and Phyllis Coats was the last female lead in a Republic serial. In fact, Phyllis Coats wore the same outfit in Panther Girl that Frances Gifford wore in Jungle Girl.

The director of Jungle Girl was studio favorite William Witney. From 1935 to 1956, Witney practiced the philosophy Herbert Yates taught which was “make em’ fast and make em’ cheap.” Witney was a specialist in outdoor action and stunt direction. He directed or co-directed more Republic serials than any other company hire. He is considered the greatest action director in B movies.

Witney traveled to Los Angeles from Lawton, Oklahoma, to visit his sister and brother-in-law in 1933. His brother-in-law was a director for Mascot Pictures, and he got Witney a job at the studio as an office boy. After Mascot merged with Republic in 1935, Witney was promoted to script clerk and then to film editor.

In 1937, while Witney was working in Utah on a western serial, the director was fired, and twenty-one-year-old Witney was asked to take his place. Witney went on to direct the studio’s principal western, science fiction, and horror serials. From the Drums of Fu Manchu to the Mysterious Doctor Satan, he was able to masterfully put action sequences together for the screen

Among Witney’s fans are directors Steven Spielberg and Quentin Tarantino. Tarantino gave Witney high praise for his rough and believable action scenes and visual style. Witney’s Republic serials served as the inspiration for Spielberg’s Indiana Jones movies.

To learn more about the many films Republic Pictures produced read

Cowboys, Creatures and Classics: The Story of Republic Pictures

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Cowboys, Creatures and Classics: The Story of Republic Pictures

The serial work producer Nat Levine was doing was extremely popular. Audiences flocked to theaters each week to find out how cowboy heroes like Johnny Mack Brown, Ken Maynard, and Tom Mix fared against the bad guys and to learn if equine stars like Rex, the King of Wild Horses, and canine actor Rin Tin Tin managed to save their pal Smiley Burnette from the villainous Harry Woods. Levine wanted to expand his moviemaking and looked to acquire the Mack Sennett production lot and facilities in order to make it happen. He approached Monogram Pictures’ executives Trem Carr and W. Ray Johnston about a merger. Neither was interested in combining his resources to purchase Mack Sennett. Both men felt the cost to run such a business would be too much to sustain. Yates heard about Levine’s proposal and offered to finance the deal. With Yates’ considerable wealth behind the enterprise and the promise that the two could share the responsibility of studio chief, Carr and Johnston decided to participate. The owners of Liberty and Majestic Studios also agreed to merge with Mascot and Monogram. The talent and resources of each small motion picture company were pooled and a distribution arm was also added to the corporation.

Republic Pictures was born in June 1935. As the money behind the venture, Yates wasted no time in asserting his authority. Although Johnston and Carr were installed as managers, Yates made it clear that he would make all major decisions regarding the company. The two executives were outraged by the mogul’s behavior but were compelled to stay with the new studio because they now lacked the means to start their own business. Nat Levine clashed with Yates, too, but chose to keep quiet in favor of making movies. He churned out a number of modest yet successful films during the first four years Republic was in operation.

Undeterred by the conflicts with his managing staff, Yates announced in a press conference with his top personnel that Republic Pictures would produce fifty-two films a year. Edward A. Golden, general sales manager for the studio, added that the company would strive to make exceptional pictures and cited problems with finances in the industry as a whole for the reason some companies delivered inferior products. Johnston shared his belief that not only financing played a part but that the lack of quality material was a contributing factor to bad movies being made. Johnston outlined Republic Pictures’ program to produce classics and the works of famous authors and urged American authors to “write better stories for screen production.”

Throughout the summer of 1935, Republic Pictures and its qualified staff made news. Stories about the ambitious independent studio’s line of pictures and the controversial comments about the industry appeared on the front pages of the newspapers. Johnston, an actor in his early days in Hollywood and a member of Franklin Roosevelt’s motion picture code authority, had definite thoughts about the salary lead actors at Republic should expect to earn. “Stars of today are paid according to their drawing power,” he told the Associated Press. “What they get is all right if they bring it back through the box office. Many of them don’t do that, however. We at Republic Pictures will pay according to the draw.”

To learn more about the many films Republic Pictures produced read

Cowboys, Creatures and Classics: The Story of Republic Pictures

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Cowboys, Creatures and Classics: The Story of Republic Pictures

Herbert Yates, a tall, compact man in his mid-fifties, stood staring out the window of his magnificent office at Republic Pictures in Studio City, California, surveying the domain spread before him. A scene from a western film was being rehearsed in the middle distance. The usual, turbulent activity surrounded it: extras, makeup women, cameramen, grips, assistants, set designers, etc. Yates lit a cigar the size of a baby’s leg and held it tightly in his teeth. He took a long puff and blew the smoke out the corner of his mouth and checked the pockets of his charcoal gray, Brooks Brothers suit for the additional cigars he had tucked away. He patted them reassuringly, then rolled the fat stogie from one side of his mouth to the other.

Yates had acquired his taste for cigars while working as a salesman at the American Tobacco Company. Paired with a stiff bow tie, a receding hairline, and a dour expression, the cigar added a layer of seriousness to his persona. As head of a burgeoning, motion picture studio, he felt the look was necessary. He wanted to appear menacing. More often than not, his business approach was “never underestimate the power of good, old-fashioned intimidation.”

Herbert Yates founded Republic Pictures in 1935, but his history working in the movie industry began twenty years prior to the creation of the studio. Yates’ introduction to cinema came by way of a film-processing business called Hedwig Laboratories. He learned all about developing celluloid and relationships with some of the most profitable filmmaking executives in the field. He parlayed his knowledge into his own processing venture called Consolidated Film Industries. In a short time, Consolidated Film Industries became the leading laboratory in southern California. They processed negatives and made prints for the majority of movies produced by studios such as First National Pictures, Warner Bros., and Fox Film Corporation. Consolidated Film Industries proved to be extremely profitable for Yates, and he sought other areas of the industry of which to be a part. He acquired record companies and financed ventures for director Mack Sennett and comedic actor Fatty Arbuckle.

Within eight weeks of advancing funds to Sennett and Arbuckle, Yates received a 100 percent return on his investment. The speed in which his funds were replenished intrigued him. Yates saw the profit to be made in producing motion pictures, and it whetted his appetite for further opportunities.

To learn more about the many films Republic Pictures produced read

Cowboys, Creatures and Classics: The Story of Republic Pictures

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Cowboys, Creatures and Classics: The Story of Republic Pictures

Republic Pictures was arguably the most important and influential studio in the history of the B movie. During the Golden Age of Hollywood, the studio flourished, and the low-budget commercial movies produced in mass made Republic a profitable concern. Herbert Yates enjoyed the financial reward for the B pictures his studio produced but lacked the respect studio heads like MGM’s David O’Selznick or Fox’s Darryl Zanuck had. It took a considerable amount of talent and innovation to make a B movie, and Yates employed an exceptional team of cinematographers, stuntmen and stuntwomen, and special effects artists to achieve the finished product. Despite the skill and invention needed to create the product, such films were generally considered inferior. Yates wanted to experience the admiration other film companies such as Paramount Pictures and United Artists received. It drove him to increase Republic’s feature film investments.

In the late 1930s, Yates decided to raise the status of the company. He wanted a better product coming out of the studio. He wanted to make an “A” picture. Yates needed a large budget, bankable stars, and a quality script to realize his vision. He believed he could begin gaining the respectability he longed for by developing a project entitled Man of Conquest. He poured considerable resources into the project. Man of Conquest, the fictionalized action biopic of Sam Houston, was Republic’s first A film.

Directed by George Nichols Jr. and starring Richard Dix and Joan Fontaine, the estimated budget for the movie was one million dollars. Man of Conquest was inspired by Marquis James’ Pulitzer Prize–winning book The Raven. New York film critics announced that Man of Conquest was a “thrilling drama skillfully splashed across a broad canvas.” The April 28, 1939, article found in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle praised the direction of the film noting that it “never loses track of its hero or allows its social message to become bigger than its story.” William Boehnel, film reviewer for the New York World Telegram, wrote that Man of Conquest was a “rousing, spectacular blend of Americanism and adventure which not only sounds the clarion call of freedom and democracy in high, resounding notes but related its message of liberty and the right of men to govern himself in a vigorous, colorful, thrilling manner.”

Herbert Yates was pleased Man of Conquest had done so well. The film was nominated for three Academy Awards: Best Art Direction, Best Sound Recording, and Best Original Score. The nominations were proof that Republic Pictures had what it took to develop a project to rival the bigger studios. Industry leaders acknowledged Yates’ effort, and he pledged to produce additional, bigger budget films. Those bigger films were to be done on a limited basis.

Yates was proud of the studio’s reputation for being a dominant force in serials. Not only was Republic good at it, but they also made a substantial amount of money, and financial success was even more important to Yates than respectability as an A movie studio.

Yates wanted to continue building the sales organization as well as creating bigger budget films. He believed a healthy balance of both would elevate the status of the company. In early 1939, he hired James Grainger, the former head of distribution for Fox and Universal Studios. Grainger immediately embarked on a series of meetings with theatrical distributors and exhibitors throughout the nation. He authorized the purchase of franchise distributors and established Republic’s own theatrical distribution system. Grainger was exceptional at his job. Within a year, he increased the number of exhibitors (theaters) to more than nine thousand. The number of theaters showing Republic Studios’ motion pictures grew even higher with each high-budget film and big-name cast member released. By the end of 1939, a mere four years after Herbert Yates founded the company, Republic was showing a profit of $4,742,175. Industry papers such as Variety and the Hollywood Reporter predicted the studio would “wind up a top flight major.”

To learn more about Republic Pictures read the

Will Rogers Medallion Award nominated book

Cowboys, Creatures and Classics.

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Colonel John Chivington and representatives of the First and Third Colorado Cavalry rode hard and fast from the sun-touched butte where they’d been waiting at the Indian encampment along Sand Creek. A bugler sounded the charge as the horses’ hooves drummed and the soldiers shouted, reins in their teeth and guns in their fists.  Members of the Cheyenne and Arapaho tribes living in the path of the cavalry hurried from their lodges and frantically scattered in different directions. Mothers scooped young children into their arms and ushered elderly men and women to clusters of trees. Braves grabbed weapons in order to defend themselves from the surprise invasion.

Several of Chivington’s troops raced to the paddock where the Indians’ horses were corralled. Without the herd the Indians would be at a disadvantage, unable to pursue attackers or flee from the chaos. Just before the flood of soldiers arrived on the scene, Colonel Chivington urged his men to “recall the blood of wives and children spilled on the Platte and Arkansas Rivers.”

The full force of the cavalry’s strike yielded immediate devastation. Bullet-ridden children fell where they once played; mothers lay dying with their babies in their arms; elderly women and men collapsed from gunshot wounds in their backs. It was a killing frenzy. Some Indians managed to escape without injury and take refuge in thick brush and behind scattered rock outcroppings.

Black Kettle tried desperately to keep his people from panicking. He clung to the belief that the attack would cease when the soldiers noticed the American flag unfurled. He and Chief White Antelope huddled at the base of the flag post. They only ran for cover when they realized the soldiers were hell-bent on annihilating them.

Fearless Cheyenne women and braves stood their ground, refusing to leave without a fight. The men exchanged shots with the soldiers and the women fought using spears and knives, all of which gave members of the tribe a chance to retreat slowly up the dried streambed. Many Cheyenne and Arapaho were killed as they ran to hide in the banks of the Sand Creek.

Indian horses spooked by gunfire broke away from the soldiers trying to drive them from the encampment. Indian women who managed to capture and calm a horse long enough to climb onto its back were shot. Their lifeless bodies slid from the backs of the horses onto the hard earth. Braves on foot who dared charge the relentless soldiers were stopped in their tracks with a barrage of bullets. According to accounts from those who witnessed the battle, children who ventured out of hiding waving white flags and mothers who pleaded for their infants’ lives were beaten with the butt of the soldiers’ guns and then scalped.

Black Kettle stood watching the bloody event in disbelief. He made a white flag of truce and raised it under the American flag. It had no effect upon the soldiers. Chivington’s persistent orders to continue to pursue the enemy were strictly followed. Black Kettle grabbed his wife, and the two fled toward a creek bed. The bark of the rifles all around him was steady, and there seemed to be no escape for the Cheyenne leader. Black Kettle’s wife was struck by several bullets, and the concussion of the shots knocked her face first onto the ground. Black Kettle tried to get her onto her feet again, but her injuries were too serious. The cavalry was bearing down on him quickly and he was forced to leave his wife’s body behind. He continued running until he reached the sandy creek bed. He hid in the dry wash under a thick overgrowth of brush.

To learn more about the Sand Creek Massacre read

Mochi’s War:  The Tragedy of Sand Creek

I had the honor of being a part of the cast of performers for a the production Americana West.  The play premiered at Old Tucson, Arizona, and was presented as a part of the Western Writers of America convention.  The play was written by Red Shuttleworth, poet and playwright, Western Heritage Wrangler Award winner, and three time Spur Award winner.

It was an experience I’ll treasure always.

Enter now to win a copy of Mochi’s War:  The Tragedy of Sand Creek

The sun had not quite risen over the vast Kansas plains when John German heard a sound that tempted him from his work packing his family’s belongings into their wagon.  He surveyed the campsite with a careful eye.  His wife Lydia and their seven children were each going about their morning chores and preparing to continue their journey to Colorado.  The Germans were from the Blue Ridge region of Georgia and had spent the summer of 1874 traveling west.  They planned to reach their new home before winter.

John and Lydia’s oldest children, twenty-year-old Rebecca Jane and nineteen-year-old Stephen, were tending to the livestock in a field not far from the family campsite.  For a brief moment all seemed as it should be; then, suddenly, a small herd of antelope darted across the trail, panicked.  Several shots rang out, and the antelope scattered in different directions.  Another shot fired and a bullet smacked John in the chest, and he fell in a heap on the ground.  Lydia ran toward her husband.  Nineteen members of the Bowstring Society rode hard and fast into the German family’s camp, whooping and yelling.  Lydia continued running.  A Cheyenne Indian on horseback chased her down and thrust a tomahawk into her back.

Rebecca Jane grabbed a nearby ax and attempted to fight off the warrior as they rode toward her.  She managed to hit one of the attackers in the shoulder before she was knocked unconscious with the butt of a gun, raped, and killed.

To learn more about the German family and the tragedy that drove Cheyenne Indian warrior, Mochi, read Mochi’s War:  The Tragedy of Sand Creek

Enter now to win a copy of Mochi’s War:  The Tragedy of Sand Creek

Colorado Territory in 1864 wasn’t merely the wild west, it was a land in limbo while the Civil War raged in the east and politics swirled around its potential admission to the union. The territorial governor, John Evans, had ambitions on the national stage should statehood occur–and he was joined in those ambitions by a local pastor and erstwhile Colonel in the Colorado militia, John Chivington. The decision was made to take a hardline stance against any Native Americans who refused to settle on reservations–and in the fall of 1864, Chivington set his sights on a small band of Cheyenne under the chief Black Eagle, camped and preparing for the winter at Sand Creek.  When the order to fire on the camp came on November 28, one officer refused, other soldiers in Chivington’s force, however, immediately attacked the village, disregarding the American flag, and a white flag of surrender that was run up shortly after the soldiers commenced firing.

In the ensuing “battle” fifteen members of the assembled militias were killed and more than 50 wounded Between 150 and 200 of Black Kettle’s Cheyenne were estimated killed, nearly all elderly men, women and children.

As with many incidents in American history, the victors wrote the first version of history–turning the massacre into a heroic feat by the troops. Soon thereafter, however, Congress began an investigation into Chivington’s actions and he was roundly condemned. His name still rings with infamy in Colorado and American history. Mochi’s War explores this story and its repercussions into the last part of the nineteenth Century from the perspective of a Cheyenne woman whose determination swept her into some of the most dramatic and heartbreaking moments in the conflicts that grew through the West in the aftermath of Sand Creek.

To learn more about the tragic events at Sand Creek read Mochi’s War

Enter now to win a copy of the Will Rogers Medallion Award winning book Mochi’s War:  The Tragedy of Sand Creek

Colonel John Chivington and representatives of the First and Third Colorado Cavalry rode hard and fast from the sun-touched butte where they’d been waiting at the Indian encampment along Sand Creek. A bugler sounded the charge as the horses’ hooves drummed and the soldiers shouted, reins in their teeth and guns in their fists.  Members of the Cheyenne and Arapaho tribes living in the path of the cavalry hurried from their lodges and frantically scattered in different directions. Mothers scooped young children into their arms and ushered elderly men and women to clusters of trees. Braves grabbed weapons in order to defend themselves from the surprise invasion.

Several of Chivington’s troops raced to the paddock where the Indians’ horses were corralled. Without the herd the Indians would be at a disadvantage, unable to pursue attackers or flee from the chaos. Just before the flood of soldiers arrived on the scene, Colonel Chivington urged his men to “recall the blood of wives and children spilled on the Platte and Arkansas [Rivers].”

The full force of the cavalry’s strike yielded immediate devastation. Bullet ridden children fell where they once played; mothers lay dying with their babies in their arms; elderly women and men collapsed from gunshot wounds in their backs. It was a killing frenzy. Some Indians managed to escape without injury and take refuge in thick brush and behind scattered rock outcroppings.

Black Kettle tried desperately to keep his people from panicking. He clung to the belief that the attack would cease when the soldiers noticed the American flag unfurled. He and Chief White Antelope huddled at the base of the flag post. They only ran for cover when they realized the soldiers were hell-bent on annihilating them.

Fearless Cheyenne women and braves stood their ground, refusing to leave without a fight. The men exchanged shots with the soldiers and the women fought using spears and knives, all of which gave members of the tribe a chance to retreat slowly up the dried streambed. Many Cheyenne and Arapaho were killed as they ran to hide in the banks of the Sand Creek.

To learn more about the tragedy at Sand Creek read Mochi’s War.