Revisited THE DAKOTAS, Wish You Were Here

Guest "Star Turn" Column

by LARRY BLAMIRE

On impulse, I just revisited the short-lived western series THE DAKOTAS for the first time since Warner Archive released it in 2015. For a show that I regard so highly, I sure took the long way getting back to it. Perhaps it’s that frustration of something so exceptional having so brief a life. I wanted to see if I felt as strongly about it as I did back then, when I brazenly declared it My Single Favorite Western Series Of All Time.

Surprisingly, I’d written/posted almost nothing about it. I guess I was looking for a way to put into words exactly why I love the dang thing so much. Was I honestly placing it above such cherished titles as GUNSMOKE, CIMARRON STRIP, HAVE GUN WILL TRAVEL, THE RIFLEMAN, THE WESTERNER, even my more obscure favorites like OUTLAWS (1960) and THE OUTCASTS (1968)? Or was this just a kneejerk call, fresh off the viewing? You know, your “favorite of the moment.” What was it about this show?

 

The fact that it was released on DVD at all is a miracle. It has no movie star lead, no Warners breakout player like James Garner or Clint Walker. Didn’t even last a full season (brutally yanked after 20 episodes). For the show’s small but passionate fanbase, the Warner Archive release is something to be grateful for, as I try to remind myself.

I’d love to chat with William T. Orr, the legendary honcho who carved out classic Warners TV, but he’s no longer with us. I can’t help but think this was something special for the executive producer who liked to draw from literary sources (never more apparent than here).

 

THE DAKOTAS is unlike any other classic television western. It’s hard to imagine ABC/Warners replacing the ailing CHEYENNE mid-season with something so dark, so complex, so challenging. This, just over the crest of a massive TV oater wave that included Warners’ own stable of one-hours, CHEYENNE, MAVERICK, SUGARFOOT and BRONCO.

 

Was Orr reaching for something more adult? Something closer to gutsy cerebral powerhouses like NAKED CITY or THE DEFENDERS? As odd as it may sound, THE DAKOTAS bears more kin to those contemporary dramas than to its fellow westerns. Its moody heightened realism feels genuine in the way that ROUTE 66 and MR. NOVAK feel genuine; profound affecting stories told with literate elevated dialogue that lifts the proceedings onto a larger stage. These are far from action-packed. Violence is sparse, usually sudden, always impactful. So impactful that public outcry got it cancelled in the space of a single week, to be swallowed up in obscurity just as quickly.

 

THE DAKOTAS is set, as one might guess, in the Dakota Territories and concerns four United States marshals tasked with policing a vast region that’s presented as harsh and unforgiving. Unlike other TV lawmen, Marshal Frank Ragan (Larry Ward) and deputy-marshals J.D. Smith (Jack Elam), Del Stark (Chad Everett) and Vance Porter (Michael Greene) have no home base, no Dodge City or Tombstone. They show up where needed, usually right in the middle of a powderkeg with a fast fuse. Episodes have tantalizing place-name titles, like “Trouble at French Creek,” “Crisis at High Banjo” and “Requiem at Dancer’s Hill.” Almost all of the shows feature all four protagonists, with focus slightly shifting among them. One of the show’s strengths is the notion of team effort, but a team that seldom sees eye-to-eye; these boys are human and flawed—often a source of intense conflict. An early episode has an argument between Ragan and Smith that goes on and on, growing surprisingly heated, and as I listened I realized neither of them was right. And both of them were.

This is something important at the heart of THE DAKOTAS. Black hats and white hats are not so easily identified. Things are generally gray. Moral ambiguity is the lifeblood, complexity the color, trickling right down to every supporting character. Every one of them has life, history. If Shakespeare wrote a western show this would be it. Its dialogue is terse yet poetic; everyday speech elevated to grand scale. Maybe that was too much for some viewers. Me? My ears get a contact high. There are a dozen quotable lines per show.

 

THE DAKOTAS was not a spinoff of CHEYENNE, but its pilot, “A Man Called Ragan,” was dropped into the latter’s schedule as a test run. In that first episode, adapted from a novel by Harry Whittington, Ragan wears an eyepatch (eliminated in the series). While it does act as an origin story, it doesn’t feel like one, as the characters (none of whom are acquainted) are entirely immersed in the central conflict. The town Ragan enters is dusty and perpetually windy, with a grim mood you can cut with a knife (I mean, the first person we see is Lee Van Cleef for gosh sakes). Director of photography Bert Glennon shoots it like a movie, with beautiful sharp black shadows (impressively, this movie look prevailed throughout the series, with Glennon and later Harold Stine). “A Man Called Ragan” is a powerful introduction, preparing us for the dramatic labyrinths to come.

 

When THE DAKOTAS abruptly ended in May 1963 it was in response to a scene in “Sanctuary at Crystal Springs” where Smith and Stark rush into a church and gun down two killers, with a minister shot in the process. While that’s been cited as the trigger, it should also be noted that the series struggled in a virtually impossible time slot (7:30, Monday night) against some beloved hits. I also wouldn’t be surprised if budgets were a factor, given the detailed sets and art direction (incredibly, every town they go to looks different), name guest stars, large supporting casts and abundance of extras (all these towns are peopled!). What I cannot agree with, however, is the notion advanced by some that the lead actor was not compelling enough. That could not be farther from the truth.

THE DAKOTAS star Larry Ward.

Larry Ward (1915-1985) was a writer (he cowrote “The Little Man Who Was There” episode of ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS) and playwright (produced in New York and London) who had also acted in a 50s soap, as well as on stage. As the story goes, he was discussing a script with producer Jules Schermer who thought him just right for a role in the Warner Brothers series “Lawman.” This led to him winning the lead in THE DAKOTAS.

It may be that some find his Marshal Frank Ragan a bit too brittle, somewhat lacking in charm. That’s exactly what I love about his performance. His Ragan is a relentless professional hard-ass, a rigid taskmaster who expects too much of everybody, including himself. He lives for the law. Until it doesn’t suit him. Then he hammers it into his own image. Thus, he’s at once more rigid than Marshal Matt Dillon, yet more likely to take liberties. This gives Ragan a tough unpredictability, darker than his contemporaries. Larry Ward bites off dialogue like pieces of metal; steely conviction backed by superior intelligence. And boy is he given some choice cuts. When someone tells Ragan he can’t stop a whole town, he promises, “I’ll stop the first six.”

 

On occasions when his character makes a late entrance there’s an expectation, a kind of “Uh-oh, what’ll Frank do?” that is really kind of infectious, like a predatory fish dropped into an unruly aquarium. One episode has Ragan and Smith appear out of the night in black rain slickers, accompanied by thunder and lightning; two avenging angels come to right things. Which leads us to someone even darker than Ragan.

Jack Elam as J.D. Smith.

J.D. Smith is the show’s dark prince, the devil on Marshal Ragan’s shoulder. I believe Jack Elam’s portrayal to be television’s first antihero. I’ve said it before, but had this series lasted two or three seasons Elam may have been the next western bad guy character actor breakout star, in the manner of James Coburn, Warren Oates and Lee Van Cleef. If you haven’t seen Jack Elam charismatically handling a complex series lead like it’s no big deal, then you are in for a treat.

 

J.D.'s introduction in the show's pilot episode.

In the pilot, J.D. Smith is a veteran gun-for-hire with a formidable reputation. His entrance is electrifying. Just as his name is spoken, CUT TO hawk screeching in foreground and J.D. appearing on horseback over background ridge. If the bird had a walkie it couldn’t have been better timed. His transformation to lawman is subtle and believable. Partly, I suppose, because he never really turns, not completely. That conflict lingers within this errant preacher’s son to become the source of some of the series’ best tension. And grim humor, sardonically delivered as only Elam can. It’s a great character, brilliantly portrayed. His interplay with Ward is some of the finest on television.

Chad Everett as Del Stark.

In some ways Chad Everett’s Del Stark is the angel opposite Smith’s devil. But, sophisticated series that it is, such is overly simplistic. This was a breakout role for Everett, who comes off impressively and earnestly as a struggling young idealist who’s his own worst enemy. As Smith amusingly put it, “That’s the trouble with arguing with Del. Even when he’s wrong he’s right.” Everett’s work here is untarnished and impressive.

  

Michael Greene's Vance Porter.

Finally, Michael Greene’s Vance Porter acts as a kind of laid-back buffer, the most generally easygoing of the four. But, on a show where nothing is simple, he’s also an impulsive bull in a china shop, a 6’ 5” volcano all too quick to rush in, and failed former sheriff just back from the bottle. Greene (until recently, the last cast member still with us) gave Porter a distinctly engaging quality that makes him a nice contrast to the others.

Jeanne Cooper, flintier than Miss Kitty, in the series pilot.

I can only imagine that guest stars were drawn to this choice material. They certainly made the most of it. Mercedes McCambridge, Telly Savalas, Everett Sloane, George Macready, David Brian…. Hands down, the best performance I’ve ever seen from Ed Nelson. One of the best I’ve seen from Beverly Garland. Same with Royal Dano. And Corey Allen. And Audrey Dalton. And Strother Martin. Affecting turns by Diane Brewster and Sue Randall. Welcome familiar faces, Colleen Gray, DeForest Kelley, Andrew Duggan, Richard Loo, Whit Bissell, Jeanne Cooper, Elisha Cook, Jr. and so on.

Claude Akins, Richard Loo, and Beverly Garland guest.

The show’s vigorous, ridiculously catchy theme music was composed by William Lava. Action scenes are staged with imagination and propulsive energy. Direction is uniformly sparkling: Richard Sarafian, Robert Totten, Charles Rondeau, quite a few from Stuart Heisler. Same with the writers: Cy Chermak, E.M. Parsons, Peter Germano, Dean Riesner to name a few. Speaking of writing….

 

Diane Brewster guests.

One of the interesting things about the structure is that every episode begins in the middle. It’s a brilliant device. All that history—the events leading up to the current situation—that’s already happened. So, when the marshals ride in, the cauldron’s starting to boil. All parts are in motion. Familiar TV western tropes—powerful rancher gripping town in fear, lawman past his prime, range war—are deftly twisted into fresh new shapes and, suddenly, it’s hard to know what to expect. I watched these just six years ago and there were still moments that hit like a punch in the gut. Which leads us back to that fateful next-to-last episode “Sanctuary at Crystal Springs,” the one that ended it all.

Had the viewers outraged at violence on their television screens taken the time to watch it all the way through, perhaps they would have understood that the subsequent moral (and spiritual) struggle was riding on the very scene they objected to. It was the whole point. In a way, THE DAKOTAS depended on the intelligence of its audience. It respected them and never condescended. Maybe folks missed it. Maybe they didn’t want to see it. Thus, the ax.

 

What we’re left with is twenty pieces of gold; twenty examples of the TV western at its finest. Not a dud in the bunch, all very good to great, with several outright masterpieces. “Sanctuary at Crystal Springs” is one of the finest hours of any genre, from any period, with an unflinching script by Cy Chermak, inspired direction by Richard Sarafian (VANISHING POINT, MAN IN THE WILDERNESS) and intense performances by James Anderson and Les Tremayne, as well as, of course, the regulars, particularly Elam and Everett.

 

There was supposedly one more episode completed, “Black Gold,” but unfortunately it did not show up in the Warner Archive release, and no credits exist online. If it’s around, if it does turn up, I’d jump at the chance to buy it as a standalone. Unlikely. But a fellow can hope.

 

(c) 2021 by Larry Blamire. All rights reserved by the Author.

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