Bank gets robbed: serves the crooked banker right
Bank robberies are an essential ingredient of
the Western movie genre. They might be large set-pieces such as the raid on the
First National Bank in Northfield, Minnesota, in many a Jesse James flick – see,
for example, the opening of The True Story of Jesse James (1957) – or Peckinpah’s spectacular and bloody first
scenes of The Wild Bunch (1969). They might
be elaborately planned and daring robberies, borrowing much from the heist
movie. Or they might be smaller affairs with cowboys walking into a bank almost
casually and ordering the teller to reach for the sky. There are in fact so
many bank robberies in Westerns that I cannot hope to mention them all here,
nor would you want me to, I am sure, because it would just become a boring and
very long list.
And yet the curious thing is that bank robberies
hardly ever happened west of the Mississippi in the second half of the
nineteenth century, the setting of most Westerns. In 1991 Larry Schweikart and
Lynne Doti published a detailed study which included every state west of the Missouri/Minnesota/Texas line,
specifically, Arizona, California, Colorado, the Dakotas, Kansas, Idaho,
Nebraska, Nevada, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Oregon, Utah, Washington, and Wyoming,
between 1859 and 1900. There were a
few famous bank robberies in these places and at this time, such as those of
the James-Younger gang or Butch Cassidy & Co, but you could almost number
them on the fingers of one hand – two at the most. “The record is shockingly
clear: there are more bank robberies in modern-day Dayton, Ohio, in a year than
there were in the entire Old West in a decade, perhaps in the entire frontier
Schweikart goes on: “Several
gunslingers marching headlong into a bank may have seemed like a good idea to
some, and certainly Butch Cassidy’s gang pulled off the successful Telluride
robbery in such a mode. His gang had the advantage of Cassidy’s brilliant
planning: a shrewd evaluator of horse flesh, Cassidy had stationed (Pony
Express-style) horses at exactly the points where he knew his own horses would
be wearing out, ensuring that his gang had fresh mounts all the way to their
hideout. Even so, one has to search extensively to find bank robberies of even
this type. There was one in Nogales, one in California, and perhaps a couple in
other locations. But like the rear-wall blasting, the front-door robbery is
notoriously absent in western records.”
Never mind, Western movies made up for this disappointing
Right back in the early days Westerns decided
to make the most of those few bank robberies that actually happened. The
success of Edison’s The Great Train Robbery in 1903 spawned many imitations, such as The Great Bank Robbery and
The Bold Bank Robbery, and there was even Edison’s The Little Bank Robbery (1906) in which children took the parts and
the bandits steal toys and candy. In 1908 Oklahoma outlaw Al Jennings made The Bank Robbery, supposedly re-enacting
an actual robbery he carried out. It shows how early bank robberies became
fixed in the ‘psyche’ of the American Western.
Some of my favorite bank robberies are, just
for example, the ones in The Moonlighter
(1953), The Last Outlaw (1993) and The Bushwhackers (1951). Why? Simple.
Although most of The Moonlighter is a
rather torrid (though turgid) romance between Fred MacMurray and Barbara
Stanwyck (yawn), there’s a good bit where Fred and Ward Bond plan a heist on
the bank where Fred’s brother Tom (William Ching) works, and it doesn’t go well:
Tom is killed with the bank president’s derringer.
In The Last Outlaw the ruthless gang leader Graff (Mickey Rourke) discovers
the derringer of the bank manager (Richard Fancy) and asks scornfully, “What
the hell is this?” The thing is, this derringer is destined to play a key part
in the last reel (if TV movies have reels). And the crooked banker in The Bushwhackers shoots the even eviler
rancher woman with one of the pocket guns. This is the perfect user of a
derringer, a slimeball using one against the perfect victim, because she really
deserved it. Bankers were classic derringer users because they wore suits and
were crooks. The 2005 Eurowestern Bandidas
was pretty dire but the best thing about it was Dwight Yoakam as the insanely
evil banker who uses, yes, a derringer. I think all bankers were probably
issued with them as standard equipment when they took up the job.
And you can see how those (rather ho-hum)
Westerns went up in my estimation. Bank robbery and derringer: they were in danger of over-egging the pudding.
Oo, wait, I have just remembered another bank/derringer Western. Remember in Gunfight at Comanche Creek (1963) when Audie Murphy robbed the bank with one? What? I hear you cry. Audie rob a bank? Never! He did, though. Mind, he was forced to, and they only gave him a puny derringer to do it with. Not only that, it wasn’t even loaded!
But soft, is this a blogpost on bankers or derringers? Come on, Jeff. Get a grip.
Although I do not care much for One-Eyed Jacks (1961) as a Western (and
still less for Marlon Brando as a Western actor) I do quite enjoy the way
Brando robs the bank in that movie, sitting on the counter with a gun in one
hand and a banana in the other (it’s a coin-toss as to which is the more
Freudian). As Karl Malden (another bad Western actor but we’ll let that pass
for today) urges him to hurry up, before the Federales arrive, he casually strolls over to a lady and roguishly
scolds her for hiding her ring.
You see, bank robberies are so commonplace in
Westerns (you’d think they happened every day) that they need something to mark
them out, such as a bit of humor.
Or maybe a darker vibe. In The Fiend who Walked the West (1958), a much better Western than the rather lurid
title might suggest, but which borrows from the horror genre, after the fabulous introductory titles there’s a good night-time bank raid,
with one of the robbers, Dan Hardy (Hugh O’Brian) being locked suffocatingly in
the vault and thus later captured. It sticks in the memory, where those other
hold-ups, the ones that happened every day, don’t.
A rather nice bank robbery, a very polite one, comes
in that charming 1948 Western Four Faces West, when Joel McCrea needs a bank loan and makes a withdrawal with his
.45 – though he is far too gentlemanly actually to fire it (in fact no gun is
fired in the whole film, a rarity for a Western). And he eventually pays the
money back. So maybe that doesn’t count as a bank robbery, I’m not sure.
The thing is, banks were, in
Westerns, ruthless capitalist institutions which had only profit, not the
welfare of the Westerner, as their overriding motive. Bankers were smoothies who
wore suits and, even worse, were often Easterners. If the Western as a whole may
be said to have a coherent political ideology at all (a rather dubious
proposition, I grant you) then it would be Populism. The resentment of
Westerners to what many of them saw as the unjust and exploitative control of
largely Eastern big business, railroads and banks was widespread in Western
states and territories. That is why so many Western movies have as their
villains rich ranchers, railroad bosses – and bankers.
One of the most emblematic of screen
bankers is Gatewood (Berton Churchill) in Stagecoach
(1939). He is aboard the coach because he is absconding with his bank’s profits
(and deserting his wife), leaving his clients desperately in the lurch, no
doubt. And he is cowardly and pompous
as well. It’s actually a great performance by Churchill (he could be good as
smarmy lawyer also, another loathsome Western stereotype) and we cheer when
he gets his come-uppance.
But other no-good varmints who
are bankers abound. I especially like The Desperadoes (1943) with Glenn Ford, Claire Trevor and Randolph Scott. You
see, there’s a scam going on. Smoothy banker Clanton
(good old Porter Hall) – and we know that the name Clanton is alone enough to
mark him out as a baddy – is in cahoots with rascally Uncle Willie McLeod (Edgar Buchanan, splendid as ever), resplendent in multi-colored vest (it was Columbia’s
first color picture), who appears a harmless, cheery sort of chap but is
actually, as I say, in a conspiracy with slimy banker Clanton. Their
scheme is to pay some bank robbers led by Bernard Nedell (who is very good) to
raid the bank, but they remove the cash first. They then pay out the poor
account holders at 50¢ on the dollar, gaining their gratitude, and pocket the
rest. Darned clever.
A Man Alone (1955) features Raymond Burr as
crooked banker Stanley, with Lee Van Cleef as his henchman, an excellent
combo, you will agree (Lee is also named Clanton). Stanley is a real slimeball. Pre-Perry Mason Burr had quite a good line
in crooked Western men in suits, such as his lowdown lawyer Bristow in Station West in 1948 (and the female
saloon owner slips him a derringer, classic derringer usage, but we better not go there again) and as the fancily-dressed
crook in Horizons West (1952). They
weren’t all bankers, those parts, but they could have been.
Many second-feature and series Westerns of the 1930s and 40s had the ‘hero helping to save honest homesteaders from crooked banker’ plot. It was a tried and trusted story.
Other crooked bankers include
Calvin Drake (Harry Worth) in Adventuresof Red Ryder (1940), Rufus Bynum (Steve Brodie) in Sierra Baron (1958) and you will doubtless have your own favorite.
They were legion. I could go on ad pretty well infinitum. But you wouldn’t still be reading if I did.
In fact it’s hard to think of a good banker in a Western. I vaguely remember
one but can’t recall which movie it was in. Perhaps you, dear e-reader, can
remind me. He helps out decent farmers by extending them loans. But good
bankers are mighty rare. Most of them take pleasure in demanding payment of promissory notes and foreclosing.
Bankers join judges, lawyers, saloon owners and railroad men as classic Western villains. So if their banks got robbed on a daily basis, good.