Bonanza, the single most successful television series of the 1960s (and, at 13 1/2 seasons, second only to Gunsmoke for network TV’s longest-running Western), created and produced by David Dortort and starring Lorne Greene, Pernell Roberts, Dan Blocker, and Michael Landon, has been lovingly and painstakingly restored and remastered for CBS’s and Paramount’s fabulous DVD boxed set, Bonanza: The Official Complete Series. The hefty set—112 discs in four chunky volumes—was executive produced by Andrew J. Klyde, and his results are spectacular: all 431 full-length episodes have been digitally remastered (including the problematic Season 2 transfers previously released) from the original 35mm color film camera negatives, complete with original music…and with a ridiculous amount of incredibly rare, fascinating bonus material included on this set. It’s an astonishing work of television preservation.

By Paul Mavis

Certainly one of the most beloved TV series of the 20th century (and it shows no sign of stopping—it still plays continuously all over the world in syndication), this iconic, epic-scaled Western—the first weekly Western ever to be televised in color—starred household names Lorne Greene as Ben, the patriarch of the Cartwright family, and Michael Landon, Pernell Roberts, and massive Dan Blocker as his intriguingly mismatched sons, Adam, Eric “Hoss,” and Joseph “Little Joe.” Telling the story of the powerful Cartwright clan and their fabulous thousand-square mile Nevada timber and cattle ranch, the fabled Ponderosa, Bonanza continued TV’s late-1950s trend towards more adult-oriented Western drama (started by series such as Gunsmoke, Frontier, and The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp), with an ultra-polished production presenting solid, challenging scripts put over by the charismatic central cast and veteran supporting players, while providing a splash of big-screen allure with all those spectacular California backdrops filmed in saturated color. Let’s begin our 14 year exploration of Bonanza with a look at the 32 (!) episodes of Season One.

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It’s the late 1850s, and gold and silver fever are sweeping through the hills and valleys of the celebrated Comstock Load. Virginia City, Nevada, sitting right on top of those millions of dollars’ worth of ore, is bustling with miners, settlers, businessmen, rustlers, con artists, and killers. And butting right up against Virginia City is the massive Ponderosa ranch, a thousand-square mile New World Eden filled to the brim with pine and beef. Overseeing this operation is voice-of-God Ben Cartwright (Lorne Greene), the thrice-widowed land baron who watches over his spread as fiercely—and as tenderly—as he does his three grown sons.

His eldest, Adam Cartwright (Pernell Roberts), is the most serious of the three siblings, and the one who works most directly under Ben in running the Ponderosa. His mother the daughter of a New England sea captain, Adam was schooled back East as an architect and engineer. Middle son Eric “Hoss” Cartwright (Dan Blocker) gets his massive physique from his mother, a six-foot tall Swede who could punch like a mule. Hoss, who may seem rather dim or naïve at times when he’s not killing a bear with only his hands, or knocking down a tree, is in reality quite sensitive to his surroundings, and to the sufferings of others. Finally, Little Joe Cartwright (Michael Landon), the youngest son, gets his smoldering dark looks and equally tempestuous nature from his beautiful half-Creole mother, whom Ben met during a trip to New Orleans’ French Quarter. Little Joe is certainly the most reckless of the clan, relying on his charm and his fast fists to both get him into trouble, and out of it again…especially if there’s a lady involved. Constantly patrolling their land to keep opportunists at bay, the Cartwrights inevitably get involved week after week in the troubles of others, who look to the Cartwrights as one of the few stabilizing forces in the wild and woolly excesses of the Old West.

Evolving out of writer/producer David Dortort’s earlier Western anthology drama for NBC, The Restless Gun, Bonanza premiered at a time on the Big Three’s network schedule (1959) where the top three-rated shows were Westerns (Gunsmoke, Wagon Train, and Have Gun Will Travel), with eight other Westerns rounding out the Nielsen Top Thirty. In such a competitive climate for adult Western drama, Bonanza needed some kind of unique draw to get it noticed, so it was decided by NBC to film and broadcast the series in full color—the first Western series to do so.

While this decision certainly garnered press for Bonanza, the network’s move to color wasn’t predicated solely on shoring up a new Western series. More importantly, this shift away from black and white programming was the next step in a long-range plan to sell more parent company RCA color televisions. Having beaten out CBS, which gave up color broadcasting earlier in the decade when it proved too expensive due to the lack of compatible color sets in the viewing audience (that whole mechanical spinning disc thing), RCA’s improved color technology allowed NBC to aggressively market color broadcasts in the service of selling RCA’s color sets (its method of color transmission could be picked up on black and white sets, too—a huge plus). A big-scale Western—the most popular genre on the tube during this period—was deemed the ideal vehicle to showcase RCA’s superior transmission technology.

But color couldn’t beat the black and white legal maneuverings of CBS’s Perry Mason…at least not at first (less than 3% of all households even had a color set at this point). Going up against the 10th rated Perry Mason on Saturday nights at 7:30pm, Bonanza was initially creamed in its first season ratings, with a full CBS Saturday night line-up that included heavyweights Wanted: Dead or Alive with Steve McQueen (9th in the Nielsen’s most popular shows on television), producer Blake Edward’s ill-fated Mr. Lucky adaptation (that 21st Nielsen rating couldn’t top Jack Benny’s influence with CBS…), Richard Boone’s Have Gun, Will Travel (3rd most popular show on the air), and the number one show in the country, Gunsmoke, proving too tempting for viewers to switch over to the Cartwrights.

Cancellation for Bonanza was considered for the seeming expensive misfire, but contrary to what most history books on the subject say, Bonanza eventually garnered a not-insignificant audience in that same time slot by the end of its sophomore season, climbing all the way to 17th for the 1960-1961 season, right behind falling 16th-rated Perry Mason. It’s true that Bonanza‘s ratings climbed even higher once it was moved to Sunday nights during its third season, but that time slot in and of itself wasn’t the factor (the former occupant, Dinah Shore, never cracked the Top Twenty with her mid-level performing Chevy Show). Bonanza was fast-gaining momentum all on its own—color or not—before settling in for its phenomenally successful 11-year run on Sunday nights.

And it’s easy to see why: it’s a hell of an entertaining show, full of action and laughs while frequently giving the audience some serious food for thought. From that driving, jangly, iconic Jay Livingston and Ray Evans theme music, to the highly stylized opening credits, where the Ponderosa map burns to allow the Cartwrights to seemly ride right through it, Bonanza sure doesn’t seem like a freshman series tentatively feeling its way along its form and content. It feels muscular and sure of itself and confident, right from the very first episode, and in that confidence comes a comfortableness—no doubt emphasized also by episodes that deal with complex themes in the history of the American West, in terms that fit easily within a one hour dramatic anthology format.

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And “comfortableness” as an aesthetic goal was paramount to Big Three network offerings in 1959…even if a show dealt with serious adult issues as did Bonanza (networks understood then—as they’ve forgotten now—that their series’ first goal should be to entertain the audience looking to escape their own realities. Not lecture or harangue them). As with other Westerns on the network schedules that year, Bonanza does a neat trick of balancing straight dramatic concerns with the action conventions of the genre, giving something for everyone who might be tuning in (also a hallmark of network programming at that time, when the family unit would frequently watch TV together).

Indeed, the anthology format that Bonanza adopted from other TV Westerns serves to accentuate that smorgasbord approach for viewers: one week an episode of Bonanza might feature a serious story involving the exploitation of miners by callous businessmen (The Philip Deidesheimer Story) or racism towards the Chinese population of Virginia City (The Fear Merchants); the next week, a humorous take on an Irish lass who hornswaggles her way into a fortune (The Saga of Annie O’Toole) or a surprisingly light and nimble comedy episode featuring an “evil twin” set-up (The Gunmen); with the following week showcasing an action-packed High Noon-ish take-off (Vendetta) or a suspenser featuring the Cartwrights facing eminent death (Blood on the Land). Add to that the appeal of an ever-rotating roster of guest stars, as well as the main cast alternating center stage from episode to episode (even the opening credits reflect this, as each star gets to “headline” the series every fourth episode), and you have a form that allows for a wide range of dramatic and humorous stories, while always staying fresh for viewers.

Bonanza goes one step further with this concept by having the brothers come from different mothers (who are all conveniently deceased, keeping the field open and uncomplicated for visiting females to the Ponderosa), allowing these three characters to share seemingly nothing from their father except a loyalty to the family name and of course, to the Ponderosa (many jokes were made at the time about the improbability of Lorne Greene fathering these adult men). Cleverly, the Cartwrights not only represent huge geographical swaths of potential TV viewers (Adam = East Coast, Little Joe = the South, Ben = the West, and Hoss’ Swedish background taking care of the Northern states, with all of their declared regional differences smoothed off enough to satisfy the great expanses of the Midwest), they also stand in for clearly established male fantasy figures for both men and women, something The Big Valley later borrowed (interestingly, I jotted all this down in my notes during the first episodes, prior to watching the later A House Divided, where Hoss comes close to describing himself and his brothers in the same manner, discussing Little Joe’s “hot Southern blood” not being interested in money; Adam’s cool, reserved New England breeding giving him a “natural feeling for the jingle of cash,” and Hoss himself, “somewhere in the middle,” having been born on the vast middle prairie of the United States).

If a businessman watching Bonanza fancied himself the tycoon of his small appliance shop, or a harried father sitting down in front of the TV looked on approvingly at the Cartwright clan, then patriarch Ben was an ideal—and certainly idealized—figure. And if those men’s wives happen to sit down to watch, as well, they might allow themselves to dream of the hurried, impassioned, impetuous advances of youngster dreamboat Little Joe, before they moved up to the darker, more sophisticated lovemaking techniques of coolly intelligent Adam. And of course, the kids sprawled out on the floor in front of the set didn’t have to wait too long inbetween all the talking for someone to take a shot at someone else, or for Hoss to take someone’s head off with a massive swipe of his ham-fist (gentle giant Hoss had to be the favorite Cartwright of the small-fry demo).

Bonanza also has an element of almost Biblical reverence for the land and for the process of working it and caring for it, that I haven’t encountered yet in other Westerns from this period. In the opening scene of the first episode, A Rose for Lotta, Adam and Ben ride their horses to a bluff overlooking a stretch of pine and mountains, with Ben reverently intoning, “Look at it, Adam. Feast thine eyes on a site that approacheth Heaven,” to which sensible, educated Adam replies, “You’ve been to a lot of places and you’ve seen a lot of things, Pa. But you’ve never seen or been to Heaven.” Ben then responds, “Well, maybe I’ve never been to Heaven, and maybe I’m never going to get the chance…but Heaven is going to have to go some to beat the thousand-square miles of the Ponderosa.” That almost religious fever for the land continues through these last 16 episodes of the first season, with an example such as Bitter Water, where Ben again must be willing to kill his neighbors in defense of his cattle who were deliberately infected with “Texas fever” ticks, and to stop his stream being poisoned.

Combined with that veneration for the land, there’s a strong conservationist message woven through many of the episodes that combines the Biblical theme of using the land for one’s purpose as an expression of God’s will, and preserving it for other generations to come. Ben loves the land of the Ponderosa, refusing to cut down one tree for a miner that doesn’t meet his moral standards. In Death on Sun Mountain, Ben talks of the fools who upset the balance of nature by slaughtering the Indians’ antelopes to sell at a premium to starving miners. Not only is he decrying the unnecessary waste (he has beef to sell, and at a fair price), he’s ashamed of the profiteering as well as the deliberate provocations towards the Indians, to whom he wished to live with in balance and peace (the portrayal of Native Americans in Bonanza—like most Westerns of this period—are far more advanced and nuanced than present-day “scholars” give them credit for…probably because those scholars haven’t actually watched what they write about).

In The Newcomers, Ben again rails against unthinking commercial interests when he fears hydraulic mining is coming to spoil the Ponderosa; clearly, commercial interests are secondary to the land in the world of the Cartwrights. And in Mr. Henry Comstock, the Cartwrights are felling timbers…and immediately planting new ones. Hoss dutifully replies to Pa, “Don’t cut unless you plant,” to which Ben replies, “That’s right, Hoss. That’s why we’re here. Not just to take from the land, but to give.” Clearly someone involved with Bonanza felt this aspect of Western expansion needed addressing, and it’s an uncommon theme not often expressed in network Westerns at this time.

However, romanticism for the land doesn’t trump reality in Bonanza; this is also fought-for land—and land still fought over. A constant theme in these first episodes of Bonanza is an outside menace to the Ponderosa. Home and hearth are frequently threatened either by Virginia City opportunists looking to expand their wealth and holdings, or settlers and miners scrabbling for a buck, and coming up against the generous-but-protectionist Cartwrights. In Blood on the Land, murderous sheepherder Everett Sloan sees all that Cartwright land and just knows he can push and push and needle and needle his way onto it…even if it takes kidnapping Adam and killing him to blackmail Ben, whom he sees as greedy and imperious. Although the Cartwrights increasingly show a willingness to help the citizens of Virginia City as well as anyone who strays on Cartwright land that has a legitimate cause for a request for help—the Cartwrights often refer to themselves as the only stabilizing force in the region—they’ll fight to keep what’s theirs, regardless of who’s trying to do the taking.

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With their wealth comes responsibility, and they meet it, but the series is smart to occasionally question their lofty positions, too. In several episodes, it’s made clear that some citizens and passers-through don’t especially cotton to the “high and mighty” Cartwrights, with one such person actively wishing for their comeuppance. More interestingly, in The Newcomers, guest star Inger Stevens has a fascinating exchange with an increasingly unsettled Ben, when she questions his belief that it’s right to kill anyone who tries to take from the Ponderosa. Ben starts by stating, “I’ll fight for what’s mine and what I believe in,” even going so far as to say he’ll kill a man who believes differently, if he has to. She replies with a discussion of patterns of history, where other men who believed differently still came onto land that wasn’t theirs, protected first by the military, and then by forts, until the land became theirs, warning Ben: “Be careful it doesn’t happen to you.” That’s an intriguing counter-message to Bonanza‘s oft-repeated belief in the rightness of the Cartwrights’ mission in life, and one that could apply to many of the cultures and beliefs that constantly war in the Bonanza episodes.

In the unsold Vic Morrow “backdoor pilot,” The Avenger, Ben and Adam face the fact that men they called their “friends” won’t come to help them beat a murder rap when the chips are down; the previous generosity and stabilizing influence of the Cartwrights means little when the townspeoples’ own lives are at stake. And in Bitter Water, the son of the rancher living right next to the Ponderosa lays it right out for an uncomfortable Ben: Ben’s power and wealth entitles him to have people “owe” him, and if things don’t go the Cartwright way, force may be used. The series certainly celebrates the “bigness” and personal “manifest destiny” of the Cartwrights’ achievements—it never belittles the work the Cartwright clan puts in to make the Ponderosa what it is. It never sides against Ben’s and his sons’ right—their God-given right—to own and keep the Ponderosa. However, Bonanza is also smart enough to raise doubt about that personal, and spiritual, mission, which of course leads to good drama.

Certainly considering Bonanza‘s time-frame (the late 1850s-to-1860s), the Civil War is also touched upon several times. In the excellent A House Divided, intellectual Adam echoes his father’s belief that people who moved out West left behind the old ideologies of North and South; the West was an ideological “new start,” representing an apolitical “cleanness,” if you will, for its settlers, and the racial and martial strife engulfing the “Old World” states are not wanted out West…at least by the Cartwrights. Of course, old ideologies of hatred and prejudice couldn’t be stamped out by mere geographical relocation, as we see in The Fear Merchants, where discrimination against Chinese immigrants is showcased (as well as a fair portrayal of Chinese immigrants who wished to assimilate into American culture, through the “American” birthday of 18-year-old Jimmy, the cousin of the Ponderosa‘s cook, Hop Sing, wonderfully portrayed by Victor Sen Yung).

As this first season progresses, we see perhaps a softening of the frequent theme of the Cartwrights’ staunch objection to encroachment on their land. In Blood on the Land, forward-thinking Adam wants to cut a road through the Northern section of the spread to accommodate westward travelers (thereby making it easier for the Cartwrights to monitor migration)—an idea that Ben only says he’ll consider at this point. This episode also calls into question Ben’s stated philosophy that guns alone stop trespassers, as Adam gets him to acknowledge that the law should have been called in from the beginning with Ben’s dispute with the murderous sheepherder Everett Sloan. However, going to the authorities to settle disputes isn’t exactly in the DNA makeup of a self-made Westerner like Ben Cartwright, nor is it always feasible to do so—particularly when law officers and authority figures such as Army officers are shown to be either psychotic or murderously amoral in these episodes (The Stranger, Desert Justice, and Escape to Ponderosa).

Other more now-familiar “adult Western” stories fill the first season of Bonanza, such as treatises on lynching parties, or corrupt officials, or the ever-popular “wronged” women with questionable pasts. I was pleasantly surprised at how funny Bonanza could be, as well. After a few serious episodes, one like The Saga of Annie O’Toole pops up out of nowhere, and we’re treated to a marvelous little Irish-flavored fable featuring an expert performance by Ida Lupino, and many wonderful throwaway bits such as the miner sniffing madly like a dog and yelling, “Woman cooking! Woman cooking!” as he scrambles to discover where the intoxicating aromas are coming from. The Gunmen is quite amusing, with Landon and Blocker briefly incarnating look-alike gunmen, setting the stage for the “real” Cartwright brothers to be mistaken for the murderers. Landon and Blocker make a physically funny-looking Mutt ‘n’ Jeff team, and their nonchalant underplaying here only makes the comedy that much more appealing.

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Even better is San Francisco, directed by comedy veteran Arthur Lubin, where the Cartwrights get off the Ponderosa and land right in the middle of Barbary Coast shanghai shenanigans that almost resemble one of Lubin’s Abbott & Costello films, with Ben and Hoss falling through trap doors, and Little Joe smiling devilishly as he catches a glimpse of a shady lady with a derringer tucked into her garter. Everyone is a crook in this episode, and no one tells the truth here, with the city slickers besting the relatively naïve Cartwrights at every turn. It’s a very funny send-up of the series’ gestalt of the Cartwright clan’s seeming invincibility when they’re riding their own range back home.

Bonanza obviously was extremely lucky to score a cast of four very different leading men who not only meshed quite nicely with each other, but who also appealed to a large segment of the viewing audience. Certainly any time the terrific, animated Blocker is on, his infectious good-humor shows through. He’s also quite good in the more serious episodes, such as his accomplished scenes with Inger Stevens in The Newcomers, or his gentle, assured performances in The Last Hunt, where he helps Little Joe care for a pregnant Shoshone Indian, or Feet of Clay, where he kills the father of a little boy he’s befriended, with his “gentle giant” quality most winningly on display.

Less subtle than Blocker’s portrayal, Michael Landon’s brash Little Joe obviously stole the hearts of young girls who watched the show; when he’s required to be dashing, he certainly is (his several fencing scenes are a treat). However, some of the heavier stuff eludes him, at least at this early stage of the game. His facility with comedy, however, becomes more readily apparent as the season progresses (he’s quite funny in The Gunmen).

Apparently Pernell Roberts was unhappy during most of the shooting of Bonanza (another case of a “serious actor” feeling he or she was “too good” for a project), and quite frankly, it shows in the first episodes (Roberts would famously leave Bonanza five years into its fourteen-year run, providing one of television’s most spectacular career flame-outs…until M*A*S*H‘s McLean Stevenson‘s ignominious fall, and a successful medical drama, Trapper John M.D., saved Roberts’ resume). Roberts’ character—the most loosely defined of the four—has the series’ action elements stolen by Hoss, the authority component taken by Pa, and the romance department swiped by Little Joe. So…what is he supposed to do around the Ponderosa? Luckily, his quiet, watchful, and somewhat mysterious performance really starts to grow on the viewer as the season progresses.

As for Lorne Greene, how can anyone argue with his magnificently hammy portrayal here (and that is definitely not a pejorative in my book)? It’s precisely what is called for here to anchor the epic-sized narrative thread that runs through the series. Anything “smaller” in performance scale would get lost amid the pines and competing brothers. Tilting his head down and mellifluously rumbling like a moosehead of doom, Greene may not be subtle here, but he commands attention in every scene he’s in, and that’s what a TV star does. How all of these personalities will mesh, and how the various permutations of their relationships will morph, will have to be seen over the course of 12 and a half more seasons of Bonanza. DrunkTV, mainly because we’re too drunk to pay attention. However, considering the extensive work done by Executive Producer Andrew J. Klyde and his team, and the quantity and quality of the assembled rarities here, attention must be paid.

Most of the episodes for Season One of Bonanza: The Official Complete Series boxed set have additional bonuses in the episode’s menu—usually a photo gallery with numerous behind-the-scenes production shots pertaining to that episode. While I’m not usually a big fan of photo galleries, these are informative (we get to see lots of “off-camera” moments) and fun (many shots of the actors having an obvious ball shooting the series). Some episodes have as many as twenty stills or more in their respective gallery—not bad at all.

In addition, a few episodes have their original episodic promo you can access. They’re in rough condition (very pink), but it’s amazing they even survived. The first episode, A Rose for Lotta, also has a sweet original NBC Network Peacock logo spot, bumpers for the commercial breaks, a spot with Lorne Greene saluting the audience for watching the first Bonanza, and a spot for NBC.

Each disc has a separate bonus selection, as well. On disc one, an episode of Fireside Theatre, entitled Man of the Comstock, is included here. Written in 1953 by Bonanza’s creator, David Dortort, Dortort states this story was “the genesis of Bonanza.” It stars Bruce Bennett, Andrea King, and Jonathan Hale, and it runs 24:47 (and it looks phenomenal in creamy black and white). Next, from a series of interviews from 2002 with creator Dortort, we get this snippet, The Ponderosa Map Story, where he details the commissioning of the map…and the little trick they employed to fix its inaccuracies. It runs 2:17. Next, we get the rare, notorious Alternate Pilot Ending Featuring the “Singing Cartwrights”, a moment captured in time that might have ended the series before it started, had it been included in the first telecast (it’s…hilarious). And finally, three photo galleries—NBC Headquarters, Clarence “Fat” Jones Stables (where the cast learned how to ride), and Publicity Stills—round out the extras with an additional 94 stills, combined.

On disc two, there’s a photo gallery for Bonanza World Premiere in Reno, Nevada, August 22-23, 1959, which features 21 fascinating stills from “Color Television Week” in Nevada, declared by then-governor, Rex Bell (do they still celebrate that there? Because if they do…I’m going). Great candid shots of the stars promoting the series. On disc three, more of the 2002 filmed interview with Bonanza creator, David Dortort. Here in Remembering Michael Landon, Dortort recounts his hiring of Landon for the part of Little Joe. It runs 2:32. Next, there’s a photo gallery for Lake Tahoe Location – June 1959, featuring 11 stills from location shooting. On disc four, Credit Drawings: Joe Messerli’s Early Concepts features one card showing early attempts at fashioning those beautiful paintings that run under the final credits of the Bonanza episodes. On disc four, the final snippet of Dortort’s interview, Remembering Dan Blocker, is included. It runs a brief 5:20.

On disc five, David Dortort Stories: How the Ponderosa Got Its Name, taken from the same interview from 2002, runs a brief 2:00, and tells us exactly what the title suggests. On disc six, there’s a photo gallery for Iverson Ranch Location, Chatsworth, California – January 1960, which features 29 stills of candid shots of the stars in action. There’s also another interview snippet with David Dortort: Pernell Roberts, running 2:43, where Dortort obliquely references the problems he had with Roberts during the production…and apologizes for them.

On disc seven, more of the 2002 filmed interview with Bonanza creator, David Dortort. Here in Remembering Victor Sen Yung and San Francisco, Dortort recounts Sen Yung’s tenure with Bonanza, and fondly (and incorrectly) remembers the plot to the marvelous San Francisco. It runs 5:01. And finally on disc eight, the final snippet of Dortort’s interview, Remembering Lorne Greene is included (and he mentions Greene’s, um…enthusiastic delivery). It runs a brief 5:20.

You can’t say you’ve watched TV if you haven’t seen at least one episode of Bonanza. It’s that much a part of television history and 1960s popular culture. An argument could be made that the phenomenal success of NBC’s Bonanza single-handedly pulled the other two networks into color transmission, thereby advancing the entire industry. But icons sometimes don’t feed the bulldog if they can’t translate out of their specific time and place (ever watch an episode of Hill Street Blues lately? Jesus christ!). 65 years (!) later, though, Bonanza still works, with an epic-sized look and reach, an attention to more complex themes and storylines in the advancing “adult Western” genre, and a varied central cast that pinch-hits for just about any fantasy figure you may want to identify with in the Western genre. And this is just the first season of the 13 & 1/2-year hit. More to come!

PAUL MAVIS IS AN INTERNATIONALLY PUBLISHED MOVIE AND TELEVISION HISTORIAN, A MEMBER OF THE ONLINE FILM CRITICS SOCIETY, AND THE AUTHOR OF THE ESPIONAGE FILMOGRAPHY. Click to order.

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