Category Archives: Adventure

Captain Gringo #1: Renegade

Lucky for us, many of the men’s adventure series of yesteryear are being re-released as E-Books. Renegade is one of those shoo-in canditates, I thought…and somebody at Piccadilly Publishing evidently agreed with me.

I only read a few paperbacks from later in the series, so this was an opportunity for me to go back and see how it all started without breaking the bank or straining my already-overloaded bookshelves.


Lou Cameron originally wrote these men’s adventures under the pseudonym “Ramsay Thorne.” They are being advertised as westerns now, but that’s not exactly accurate, as they take place in Central and South America during the 1890s. I guess I’d call them “jungle mercenary” adventures.

In this one we meet Dick Walker AKA Captain Gringo as he’s awaiting execution by the US Army. As a commissioned officer, he allowed some prisoners to escape because he thought they were getting a raw deal. That earned Richards himself a raw deal. I found it interesting that he had been assigned to the “Buffalo Soldiers”: the 10th Cavalry–a unit I once researched extensively for a project I may or may not ever undertake.

The Renegade escapes, and almost immediately runs afoul of crooked authorities in Mexico. He also makes acquaintance with Gaston Verrier–a middle aged soldier of Fortune who originally came to Mexico as part of the Foreign Legion. In almost-believable fashion, the two of them team up to survive against bleak odds, and raise a lot of hell along the way. Surprisingly, they part ways before the novel is finished (Gaston is Captain Gringo’s consistent sidekick in the series).

The Renegade series reads almost like a Foreign Legion adventure, only with a XXX rating. And the sex scenes in this book are much raunchier than I remember them being in the later ones I read years ago. Cameron seems to have been more of an “anything goes” perv than I took him for back in the day. I now wonder if he didn’t spend some time in Hollywood adapting screenplays, or some other moral cesspool (Greenwich Village, maybe?) that erased any notion of taboos. But I’m getting ahead of myself here and reacting perhaps as much to #2 in the series as to this one.

The ethnic stereotyping is also much more pronounced than I remember, and occasionally grates.

Based on the typos in the new E-book, I would guess they put the original into digital format by running a scanner over one of the paperbacks, then trusting software to sort out the spelling and punctuation. It’s plenty readable, just annoying if you have OCD concerning syntax…like somebody I know. Ahem.

One asset to reading any of Cameron’s work is the nice little historical and cultural tidbits he mixes in with the plot, whether it be Latin customs or mindset; unexplained natural phenomenon; obscure historical events; or the function and employment of a water cooled machinegun. Though pulpy to the extreme, it can’t fairly be called “mindless entertainment.”

Badasses of Dude-Lit: Number Two

2. Breeder

This is the only stand-alone novel in the Top Five. And thankfully it is now also available as an E-Book.

You can read my review of Breeder on the old blog, but I’ll summarize in manosphere terms here.

Jeff Clendenning is the ultimate alpha-dog…and not by chance. He was bred to be. Not only is he a perfect physical specimen and a savant for combat, but also has bulletproof game that makes him irresistible to women.

Any women.

In fact, he was born with an absolutely unique superpower: an innate ability to visually clock a woman’s menstrual cycle. Wouldn’t we all like to have that one? We could avoid a whole lot of aggravation, for one thing. But alas, he uses this menstro-vision for a purpose not all of us would: impregnating every single woman he meets, who is capable of reproduction.

He can’t help it. It’s an instinct that was bred (or designed) into his DNA.

See, Jeff is unknowingly part of a clandestine Russian operation. He’s been raised in a “Potempkin Village” believing he’s really an American in the USA, attending college ROTC so he can go fight the Geebees (Patriot militias, basically). But after graduation he gets away from his handlers and finds himself in the actual USA…and that’s where the fun really begins.


Things are a lot different in the bona fide USA. For one example, the Breeder’s “extremely rapid seductions” are considered rape. And that’s just one way this speculative novel written in the 1970s, published in 1988, can be considered prophetic of our present and near-future cultural condition.

Breeder is an action-adventure with a military flavor and some dystopian (or prophetic) elements, but it could be fun for red pill readers simply because of what it implies about hypergamy and the aplha fux/beta bux phenomenon.

Frankly, it’s a lot of fun with or without that.

Badasses of Dude-Lit: Number Three

3. The Renegade

Possibly inspired by 19th Century mercenary William Walker, the Renegade AKA Captain Gringo AKA Richard (Dick) Walker, raises hell in Latin America over the course of 36 novels. Writing as “Ramsay Thorne,” prolific pulp prose-peddler Lou Cameron undoubtedly had loads of fun (and passed it on to us) writing a character used to “winning in battles and bedrooms!”

I’m delighted to discover that these are being released as E-books now, under Cameron’s own name. I only bought a few of the paperbacks while they were in print (wasn’t on a historical kick at the time), but now I should be able to read the whole series.

Captain Gringo is a definite alpha dog. In a setting rife with treachery, teeming with tyrants, revolutionaries, and German agents, the only man of integrity to be found is the lecherous Frenchman Gaston, his loyal sidekick. The Renegade seduces more women in each novel than some men will in their entire life (women who shout lines like “Oh Deek, my great bull!” during the throes of passion), and Gaston feeds on his scraps without complaint.


In his tactics and instincts, Captain Gringo is seemingly flawless as written. But there’s more than enough wild cards thrown at him to keep the pages turning…and the rounds feeding through his Maxim machinegun.

Badasses of Dude-Lit: Number Four

The countdown continues…

4. The Last Ranger

Here’s another hero that’s probably a beta male, but he ranks this high mostly because I enjoy the post-apocalyptic genre.

Whoever wrote under the name “Craig Sargent” was probably a peacenik from the Vietnam era, because that’s how Martin Stone comes off–despite being raised and trained by a Special Forces officer. The series was published toward the end of the Cold War and left-leaning nuclear disarmament sentiments permeate.

Yet despite the political proclivities and the beta nature of Martin Stone, he’s forced to act decisively and heroically due to the environment and the characters who inhabit it. He also gets his wick dipped on a regular basis, because there’s an average of one damsel-in-distress in every novel.

Major Clayton Stone wasn’t a Ranger, and his son was never even a soldier, so I’m not sure how the series title was justified.

I own all 10 paperbacks in the series. The plotting really goes downhill toward the end, like the author(s?) lost interest and were just typing words for a paycheck. But it’s a lot of fun prior to that. If I have to face a post-nuke future, I’d want to start from a secret mountain bunker full of automatic weapons, with a Harley and a loyal fighting dog to scout with.


I just found out these books are being released for the Kindle. And with the original covers! It looks like they started with the series finale and are working their way back to the first one for some reason. It’s great news for readers in any case.

Top Five Count Down: Badasses of Dude-Lit

What is “dude-lit” you ask? It’s a term I coined even before becoming the Two-Fisted Blogger. It’s been hijacked somewhat by homoerotic hacks and delta or gamma males getting in touch with their feelings, writing (allegedly) masculine counterparts to the womyn’s fiction on the bookshelf.

That is not dude-lit. I thought of the term first, so I’m gonna continue using it to describe fiction written for red-blooded heterosexual men. I guess you could call it red pill in the post-Matrix period.

It’s not the highbrow stuff you see touted on some manosphere blogs, though.  Dude-lit isn’t for the wine-sipping, chess-playing side of your personality. It’s for the beer-slamming, ball-playing , trash-talking side.

So I thought I’d highlight some of the he-men of literature. I ranked them partly by their place in the socio-sexual hierarchy, and partly by how fun it is to read them.

Here’s the start of my short list of dude-lit heroes from over the years–the kind who are in short supply anymore in the pop culture of our feminized society:

5. Conan

Yup–a classic is in the Top Five. I know there’ve been Conan stories written since the death of his creator, but I’m including only the character as written by the delightfully un-PC Robert E. Howard. He’d never get this fantasy series published by the New York Publishing Cartel today–not without watering the barbarian down, adding some amazon superninjas and slipping an approved left-wing message into the Hyborian Age.

Conan is an alpha living in the ultimate habitat for alphas. His age and region is swarming with musclebound cutthroats, but the Cimmerian stands out above them all. He is perfectly at home in anarchy, yet you can also put him in a society with structure and he’ll rise quickly toward the top. In the movie he began adulthood as a slave, was promoted to gladiator, then gained his freedom and graduated to brigandry. In the books his self-improvement continues all the way to kingship.

Tarzan is a classic who didn’t make my Top Five for a couple reasons. While the ape-man is nobody to mess with, either with bare hands or primitive weapons, he is more of a beta male or arguably a sigma. He keeps to himself and has no ambition to leadership–even among the ape tribe that raised him. He also falls quickly into wunitus (1/”one”-itus) after meeting Jane.

Despite being raised in the jungle by apes, Tarzan is far more civilized than Conan…hence, not quite as much fun.

Browse by next time for my #4 pick.

Action Adventure and Feminism Part 3

So now we know how it started, pretty much. But the amazon superninja didn’t immigrate from comic books to movies right away. And when she did, it was a gradual incursion.

The idea of a  120 pound woman physically dominating a 180 pound man in any kind of combat is laughable. So it’s fitting that the first cultural conditioning began in comedies.

(Even male couch potatoes are easily stronger than the average female. Yes, martial arts can make up for some physiological advantages, and according to action movies, every woman is a master; but I’d wager there are still a lot more men studying martial arts than women…in the real world, anyway.)

(You might want to skip forward to 6:40 or so in the clip below.)

The gender role reversals were very subtle in, say, the Howard Hawks comedies. But the more zany the comedy, the more masculine the women and effeminate the men. One would think people watching a comedy would know better than to take anything in it seriously, but when watching a movie, a person’s defenses are significantly weakened due to their suspension of disbelief, and ideas can infest directly into the subconscious. Hollywood knows this, of course, and has used this technique to influence the thinking of Joe Public regarding nearly every subject–especially politics.

By the 1970s amazon superninjas began showing up in non-comedy genres to a noticeable extent. By the 1990s it was obligatory in action movies, and becoming so in adventure fiction. Of course comic books were way ahead of the curve, having started down this road in the early 1940s.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Action-Adventure and Feminism Part 2

We are currently inundated with Amazon superninjas in action-adventure, whether it be on the big screen, small screen, printed page or videogame. And not just action-adventure anymore, either. As mentioned in Part One, this feminist myth has obviously become a de facto requirement for any form of entertainment aimed at an ostensibly male audience.

Where did it all start?

 

It’s no mistake that I refer to these characters as “Amazon superninjas.” You can trace this fetish back to the Amazon stories in Greek mythology. A lot can be analyzed on this subject, but one aspect I’ll point out before moving on is that this mythical race of women warriors lived in an all-female civilization. The only men they allowed into their culture were male slaves, for breeding purposes.

Fast forward to the 20th Century, and along comes a psychologist in the early 1940s, by the name of William Moulton Marston. Though no state allowed such arrangements to be called “marriage” back during his time, he lived in a menage a trois with two women–one his legal wife; the other a former student.

The late ’30s and early ’40s are known as the Golden Age of comic books. Superman came on the scene in 1938, and inspired a boom in comic book heroes. Another cultural phenomenon had infested society during the Depression years, evidently (though far more surreptitiously): bondage and female domination.

Here’s something Marston wrote:

“The only hope for peace is to teach people who are full of pep and unbound force to enjoy being bound… Only when the control of self by others is more pleasant than the unbound assertion of self in human relationships can we hope for a stable, peaceful human society… Giving to others, being controlled by them, submitting to other people cannot possibly be enjoyable without a strong erotic element.”

Because he chose the word “people” instead of “men,” it’s probable that he didn’t just enjoy getting tied up by his live-in mistresses, but enjoyed watching them tie each other up, too.

Like many pied pipers before and since, Marston recognized pop culture as a potential tool for mass indoctrination. He published a couple articles, one of which was titled: “Don’t Laugh at the Comics,” and shortly thereafter was hired by the company which later became DC.

In a 1943 issue of “The American Scholar”, Marston would write:

“Not even girls want to be girls so long as our feminine archetype lacks force, strength, and power.”

Mistress Elizabeth Marston (his legal wife) told Bill to invent a female superhero.

“Women’s strong qualities have become despised because of their weakness. The obvious remedy is to create a feminine character with all the strength of Superman plus all the allure of a good and beautiful woman.”

Whatever else you can call a guy like William Moulton Marston, he was a mangina in his private life and a white knight in his public one. He obediently set forth, with all his psychological weaponry, to advance the cause of Team Womyn.

During the Depression and War years, superhero comic books were read by (and marketed to) primarily pre-adolescent boys. This was the target demographic for Marston’s psycho-cultural conditioning. Here’s a summary of his strategy, from Marston’s own typewriter:

“Give them an alluring woman stronger than themselves to submit to, and they’ll be proud to become her willing slaves!”

 

After all, Bill was obviously proud of his arrangement with Elizabeth Marston and Olive Byrne.

Marston developed a character he called “Suprema.” He dipped into mythology and pulled out the Amazons. Suprema was from an advanced Amazon civilization, but would become an agent of FDR’s federal government and fight it’s enemies. The name of the Amazon colony would be “Paradise Island.”

If you’ve ever been around a bunch of women living together for any length of time, then you know it’s anything BUT paradise.

Ahem.

Suprema was given a skimpy costume that was scandalous for its time. Though a corset/push-up bra, short-shorts (or a tiny-miniskirt) and tall boots would become fashion for some women half a century later, the only women who wore such an outfit in those days either performed in kinky stag films or posed for kinky stag mags. Bondage toys were added to Suprema’s utilities: slave shackles on her wrists that could deflect bullets, and a magic golden lasso that forced confessions from the person bound by it.

William Moulton Marston adopted the pseudonym Charles Moulton, and changed Suprema’s name, too. The same month that Imperial Japan surprised and devastated the US Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor, Wonder Woman was unleashed on the young boys of America.

(Actually, comic books were routinely distributed months before the publication date on the cover, but the significance of that date was too much to go unmentioned.)

There were obvious lesbian/bisexual implications from the beginning, and bondage was a consistent motif. Wonder Woman was regularly either a victim or perpetrator–sometimes both in the same story. Had people in the WWII generation been half as aware of kinky sexual fetishes as they are now, DC could never have gotten away with printing such material for minors.

Early on, a pilot (Steve Trevor) crashed on Paradise Island, and became an ostensible love interest for the butch super-babe. This presented opportunities for gender-role reversal in several comic stories. Trevor often played the part of dude-in-distress, in need of rescue from his dame-in-shining-girdle.

And, of course, each issue with the Amazon princess depicted her physically overpowering men. Even Roman gods were no match for her in combat.wonderwoman

There was an explosion of four-color Amazons during that time (though unlike WW, most weren’t literally Amazons). Writers and artists rushed to bring out Sun Girl, Miss Masque, the Black Cat, the Blonde Phantom, Phantom Lady and Miss America, to name a few. Heroines like Sheena  and Rulah brought female domination fantasy to the jungle. Gender-role-reversal and female dominance were common themes with them, too.

But the impact of this character (and the ideology that spawned her) pushed far beyond her short-lived Golden Age comic book imitations.  The baby boomers didn’t just embrace the conditioning from New Deal socialist writers in Hollywood and New York; they would grow to take this female supremacy concept to new levels.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Action-Adventure and Feminism Part 1

This year I  discovered something called “the Manosphere.” Is it possible to discover something you’re already a part of? Because as near as I can tell, I’ve been part of the Manosphere since starting the Two-Fisted Blog a few years ago. Granted, the 2FB was never about game or gender relations, but it was written by a man, for men, and usually about men. Specifically red-blooded heterosexual men. I’ve never pandered to the feminists on my blog or in my books, nor will I ever. I was a manosphere poet and didn’t know it.

But now I know it.

My epiphany began after hearing the phrase “alpha male” for the umpteen-zillionth time, and deciding to find a definition for it. I got a lot more education than I bargained for. To summarize briefly, there are names for the phenomena and personalities I’ve observed; for the theories I’ve formulated and even some attitudes I’ve adopted. And yet there’s still a lot I had not discovered strictly on my own via the School of Hard Knocks, so other blogs in the Manosphere have been like a crack addiction to me lately. My vocabulary increased overnight to include terms like “white knight,” “mangina” and “NAWALT.”

NAWALT – Not All Women Are Like That. Frequently heard on Manosphere websites, usually used by intruding women or trolls who want to derail an assertion. If only one out of a million women “aren’t like that,” it’s still technically true (but Diogenes wouldn’t waste the lamp oil to go looking for her!).

White Knight – (1) a man who “comes to the rescue” of a woman, or of women, reflexively, emotionally-driven, without thought or even looking at the situation; (2) a man in authority who enables Team Womyn in his legislative actions, judgments, or rulings, reflexively, emotionally-driven, without thought or even looking at what’s right.

Mangina – an unfortunate (in all ways) combination of “man” and “vagina”. Generally used to describe a male person who has left his balls in some woman’s purse.

I’m not going to start blogging sex or dating advice here. But some very astute observations have been made in the manosphere and some of them have helped me put something into perspective. For lack of a better subject heading, I’ll call that something “GENDER BIAS IN POP CULTURE (IN GENERAL) AND ACTION-ADVENTURE MOVIES (IN PARTICULAR).”

Action-adventure has been a predominantly male genre, and marketing gurus will tell you it still is.

In literature it was once labelled “men’s fiction.” This genre disappeared from traditional publishing circa 1990. A handful of authors (including myself) have done our best to resurrect men’s fiction (in various sub-genres) for the last few years. In fact, that was one goal of the Two-Fisted Blog and, now, Virtual Pulp Press.

The obstacles have been large and numerous. One is the astronomical volume of available books in the online age, now that anyone/everyone can get a book published. And does. So just getting a reader to discover a particular book is a significant hurdle. And with so much garbage being published by the aforementioned anyone/everyone, indie authors suffer guilt by association, rendering odds of discovery even worse. There’s an assumption that if the New York Publishing Cartel (NYPC) didn’t publish it, it’s not worth browsing/sampling. And finally, the target audience for the genre (red-blooded heterosexual men), by-and-large, just doesn’t read much anymore… besides Twitter posts and videogame subtitles, anyway.

Men still pay to see action movies, though.

And despite the wives or girlfriends who accompany them to the theater on occasion, nobody disputes the audience for this genre being male at its core.

 

The genre appeals to traditionally masculine impulses. It was designed to be escapism for males, giving them heroic, masculine role models that, at least subconsciously, men and boys aspire to be. Why then is it absolutely obligatory (so far as film makers are concerned) to have at least one woman in every action movie who is at least as masculine, if not more so, than the hero? (This certainly isn’t limited to the big screen, BTW–you find the same fetish in comic books, videogames and other media, but movies have the largest audience, and this fetish is apparently a requirement in film.)

The motives and reasons behind this are too numerous to document here. What it boils down to is that this convention is one symptom of a feminized culture, in which worldview, opinions and thought patterns are conditioned by pop culture and mass media.

In my aforementioned crack spree intensive research, I discovered two counterculture (or perhaps anti-establishment is a better description) websites: The Rational Male and Return of Kings. If the latter was an automobile, there’s no doubt in my mind it would be festooned with “No Fat Chicks in Bikinis” bumper stickers. But despite the frequent superficiality, and what seems to be a conscious effort on the part of the writers at times to resemble the “sexist pig” stereotype, there are some interesting conclusions reached there. Here’s an excerpt from one of their articles about the myth of “male privelege:”

Women…see media as a source of therapy. …They expect to be able to turn on any media outlet and have their egos massaged. …Of course, ferocity, independence and intelligence are always assumed on the part of the woman. Think about that – female egos are not even worried about actually being smart or tough, as they assume that they are that just by existing.

This assumption is regurgitated in action movies.

The hero in an action movie is nearly always an exceptional man. Often he has undergone extensive training to achieve his level of physical prowess; or sometimes he towers above other men due to superpowers. Traditionally, only the villain mastermind approaches equality with him in unarmed combat…

With the exception of female characters.

A woman can be a waitress, or receptionist, or welfare queen–it doesn’t matter. There’s no necessity of rigorous training or superpowers–the very fact that she has a vagina automatically makes her equal (or superior) to the action hero. Look at the TV portrayals of Lois Lane for the last 20 years, just for one example. She’s such a badass you just know she’d thrash Superman back on Krypton. Bet you didn’t know reporters were one-woman armies, dijja?

In this case it’s not even necessarily women who are dogmatically inserting this female dominance fantasy into action movies. More often it is feminized males (white knights and manginas) behind this overused canard.

More on that in another post, perhaps.

Indeed, pop culture is not just a propaganda tool of the political left; it is a cohesive theraputic strategy for the female of the species. She turns on the idiot box television, and watching any sitcom, the denigration of everything masculine is reinforced…at least when embodied in a male character (because it’s not enough to flatter empower women by virtue of their being born female; men must also be ridiculed for the cardinal sin of being born male).

 

Special little snowflake Jane Public goes to watch a romantic comedy and reviews how women are emotional victims of alpha males, and the only sympathetic male characters are white knights, metrosexuals, or homosexuals. She watches a dramatic movie or TV show and it is reinforced that 1. women are simultaneously victims and strong, take-charge leaders while 2. men are cheaters; bullies/cowards; rapists; abusive; ineffectual; incompetent; weaklings; or some combination of the above. And when she sits through an action movie with her boyfriend (poor fool), she is conditioned to believe there is no physical difference between men and women besides breasts and genitalia.

Here’s what a woman who could physically compete with a man would actually look like.

Next thing you know, special little snowflake Jane Public (and her white knight cheerleaders) regurgitate originate ideas like: “Why shouldn’t women be in combat? Obviously women are just as tough as men–usually tougher, in fact.”

Hmm…I can see I’m going to need more than one blog post for this subject. To be continued…

007 In Film and Fiction

 

Thanks to Books on Tape, Blackstone Audio, et al, and now Audible Audio for my Kindle, I’m tearing through books at a steady rate during work-related travel.

After paying for my subscription to Audible Audio, I decided it was finally time to read the source material for the spy movies I grew up with. I had previously read Casino Royale and You Only Live Twice which were fairly good reads, but were quite a different flavor from the Bond flicks I’d seen. So anyway, I set out to go through the rest of the Bond canon in the order the novels were written. So far, in addition to the two mentioned above, I’ve read Live and Let Die, Moonraker and From Russia With Love.

The first Bond I ever saw on screen was Roger Moore. It wasn’t until my teen years I began to see some of the Sean Connery flicks. I knew nothing about the literary Bond, and didn’t favor one actor over the other, but I liked the Connery flicks better. My favorite became Thunderball. How can you go wrong with an underground battle between frogmen using spearguns and submerged jet skis?

My senior year in high school I got a chance to see Dr. No and I really liked it. Not many cool gadgets, but the feel of it was groovy, and Connery’s Bond in this flick was one cool customer (closer to Ian Fleming’s character, in my opinion, than any actor has come until Daniel Craig or perhaps Timothy Dalton).

Speaking of Timothy Dalton, I just saw License to Kill this month. Hollywood finally did to Felix Leiter what Fleming did to him in the second Bond novel. I was shocked to read about the fate of Bond’s CIA counterpart in Live and Let Die, not just because it was gruesome, but because Felix Leiter had been a healthy, able-bodied staple in just about every Bond movie.

I’m sure this topic has been analyzed to death, so I won’t ramble on too long. But reading the books does take some of the Bond mystique away.

The silver screen Bond is a supercharged exaggeration of the character in nearly every way, as are his adventures. The literary Bond has only used his “license to kill” a couple times in his career. The movie Bond kills anywhere from three to a dozen times in any given story.

One of those kills to Bond’s credit, by the way, occurred during the war if I remember correctly. What war? Fleming’s Bond got into intelligence work during WWII, and continued serving in that capacity into the Cold War. In the movies, he was strictly Cold War, and we were never given any indication how he got into the business. He was conceived in a test tube by M for all we knew. With all the reboots, I think even the Cold War origin will soon be swept back (if it hasn’t been already). And with the Daniel Craig films delving more into the Bond character than any previous flicks, we’ll probably get his background filled in, too (retrofitted, of course).

Hmm. Just checking the canon, I realized I skipped Diamonds Are Forever. Have to remedy that. I was actually checking because From Russia With Love ended in an almost cliffhanger fashion and I wanted to see what followed it, guessing it would be You Only Live Twice.

Nope. Dr. No.

My least favorite Bond is, hand’s down, the Pierce Brosnan dynasty. That’s when the writers and directors transformed our favorite sexist pig superspy into just another action hero franchise. Along with that, the amazon superninja has become as obligatory in OO7 flicks as in every other action movie.

I’ll be glad to watch Halle Berry strut up out of the ocean all day long, but watching her out-macho the male lead is about as interesting as an old Wonder Woman rerun.

Look for Bond to get a sex change in the future, much like Thor, the Terminator, etc. “Bond. Jane Bond. I’ll take a sloe gin phiz, shaken, not stirred.” Maybe some “Bond boys” with names like Dick Steel, Bolt Upright and Hardin Cox.

Well, my Bond education will continue. Though the books are interesting, I don’t like them enough to make them a priority. So this could take a while.

 

John Wayne: Textbook Alpha Male?

For those who know who John Wayne was, the typical assumption is probably that the characters he played were alpha males (for those familiar with the term “alpha male” anyway).

Having seen my share of Duke flicks, I can testify that his characters were never pick-up artists (PUAs)–something that seems to go hand-in-hand with alpha behavior. (In fact, it was usually the woman who pursued and approached him–especially in the Howard Hawks movies.) That and a few other personality traits perhaps make a further study of the John Wayne persona worthwhile in the future.

waynerifle

 

But I used the word “persona” intentionally, rather than mention any specific role he played. Critics of the Duke point out that he wasn’t really an actor, but a movie star. There’s some truth to that, because the characters he played were usually the same guy, just with different names and historic contexts for the different movies.

To over-simplify it for a moment: John Wayne was almost always the hero.  I say “almost” because there are a couple exceptions when he was called on to play an antihero.

One of those exceptions occurred when he was curiously cast as Ghengis Khan in The Conqueror. The most interesting exception was the role he played in a John Ford western called The Searchers, and that’s what we’ll look at now.

The Searchers is a great film for many reasons. One of the most basic of those reasons is the characters it is built around.

The role of Ethan Edwards was a real departure in the screen career of the Duke. Yes, he still exuded toughness, strength and cocksurity, but underneath that was a vengeful, bitter racism that made him the darkest character Wayne ever played.

Unless you watch carefully for details, you’ll miss that Ethan’s

The tombstones in this scene reveal that Ethan's parents were killed by Commanche, but you have to be a speed-reader to catch it.
The tombstones in this scene reveal that Ethan’s parents were killed by Commanche, but you have to be a speed-reader to catch it.

parents were murdered by Commanche. Ethan Edwards is a fanatic. His hatred of the Commanche has caused him to learn their language and customs, and even think the way they do. Ironically, this obsessive racism has made him a perpetual outsider among the white settlers in 1868 Texas.

The clip below reveals a lot about the plot, the characters, and what’s gone on behind the scenes. Watch carefully and take special note of how the hierarchy shines through.

You can spot the alpha dog right away, can’t you?  Ward Bond’s swaggering alpha bravado is right at home in…nay, demands to be…the center of attention. He’s a natural leader, and he barks orders at everyone lest they forget who’s in charge. The posse he’s putting together is made up of betas and arguably a couple delta males. Then you can feel the power shift as Ethan Edwards makes his presence known.

Ethan Edwards at this stage of his life is a “sigma male.” He’s the only one in the film the Reverend/Captain Samuel Johnson Clayton (Bond) can’t bully, intimidate, or inspire to follow his leadership. Not only that, but Ethan overrules his authority without hesitation or apology, and turns the impromptu interrogation around on Clayton by questioning his loyalty to the Confederacy.

Exhibit B is Ethan’s sister-in-law Martha. Notice how she caresses Ethan’s coat, and all the unspoken feeling that passes between them when she hands it to Ethan? Important subtext was revealed right there:

Martha married and bore children to stable beta-male provider Aaron Edwards, but her desire is (and always has been) for bad boy Ethan, who left her to go fight in the Civil War.

Female hypergamy hasn’t changed at all since 1868.

Also notice how Sam Clayton witnesses this, but doesn’t find it surprising at all.

Another interesting character is Martin Pawley, played by Jeffrey Hunter. He’s an adopted orphan, in his late teens. He’s an outsider when the story begins. Seems like a beta male, with some alpha tendencies that grow as he matures into a man. (Unfortunately, he fights like a girl.)

Back to Ethan Edwards and the Reverend/Captain Sam Clayton: waynes&bondThere’s a scene leading into the climax of the film where a young cavalry officer finds Ethan and Martin who have just crashed a wedding (and Martin took back the bride-to-be from his beta rival, Texas Ranger Charlie McRory). The cavalryman is looking for the Captain of the Texas Rangers, and, upon observing those present, he assumes it’s Ethan Edwards until corrected.

Something about Ethan just makes people assume he’s in charge. Sam Clayton is miffed about this and takes to humiliating the young lieutenant. Ethan, who is often amused by the drama that goes on between other people (most of whom he regards with barely-hidden contempt), actually joins in on the roast of the young Yankee officer (who is played by Wayne’s son and becomes an increasingly comedic/pathetic character as the film goes on).

There are a lot of reasons to watch The Searchers, re-watch it, and analyze it visually and thematically. One reason is that, half a century before there was a “manosphere” or any discussion of the socio-sexual hierarchy, director John Ford knew how it all plays out in the theater of life.