acceptance. Go West Young Man (1937) and Every Day’s a Hol-
iday (1938) were rather boring—thanks to the Hays Office—
and offered none of West’s usual clever innuendos.
Paramount did not renew West’s contract, and the star
went to Universal to costar with W. C. Fields in My Little
Chickadee (1939). Though they made one of the screen’s
most interesting pairings, both West and Fields wrote their
own scripts, resulting in pure chaos when neither would
compromise.
West didn’t make another film until 1943 when she
starred in an independent feature, The Heat’s On. By that
point, however, she had become passé but not yet the appre-
ciated institution that she is today.
West was active in the 1940s and most of the 1950s on
Broadway, on tour, and in nightclubs, but then West
appeared to go into relative seclusion. That didn’t mean,
however, that she wasn’t in demand. She was approached for
roles in Sunset Boulevard (1950), The First Traveling Saleslady
(1956), Pal Joey (1957), and The Art of Love (1964), to name
just a few. Nothing came of those roles, but finally in 1970,
West returned to the screen, looking amazingly well pre-
served at the age of 78, in Myra Breckinridge. The movie was
an unmitigated bomb, but West was the best thing in the
film—and she wrote her own dialogue.
In 1978, she surprised Hollywood (and everyone else) by
starring in a movie based on one of her plays, called Sextette.
The movie was uneven at best. Although it featured an all-
star supporting cast, the film’s real appeal was as a curiosity
piece. However, few were interested in seeing an 85-year-old
woman make funny sexual remarks.
Toward the end of her life, many criticized Mae West for
being a living caricature of female sexuality, but one cannot
deny that her very flouting of societal strictures placed on
women was the key to her enormous success as a comedi-
enne. Indeed, her uninhibited interest in sex was a powerful
early warning shot of the feminist revolution.
See also
COMEDIANS AND COMEDIENNES
;
FIELDS
,
W
.
C
.
westerns A distinctly American genre that has been much
maligned. Although the western appears to be strictly formu-
laic, it is in fact enormously plastic, capable of being bent into
anything from morality tale to musical, from history lesson to
social criticism. It has been said that if westerns did not exist,
Hollywood would have had to invent them. Ironically, how-
ever, it was the other way around: Westerns invented Holly-
wood. After all, it was Cecil B. DeMille’s huge hit The Squaw
Man (1913), the first film shot there, that put the sleepy
southern California town on the map.
With their sweeping vistas, rousing chases, and dramatic
gun duels, westerns were perfect for outdoor filming and
ideal for the big screen. It did not hurt their case that such
films were inexpensive to produce (until recent decades) and
sure to please audiences smitten by the romance of the Amer-
ican West. In fact, horse operas became the most-often-
produced films in Hollywood history.
The western came into being even as the real West still
lived on in its fading glory. Indeed, William “Buffalo Bill”
Cody was seen on film at the very end of the 19th century.
Despite the fact that it was shot in New Jersey, the first true
western movie was Edwin S. Porter’s The Great Train Robbery
(1903), a film that launched the genre with a vengeance. It
contained within its 10 minutes’ running time a great many
of the elements (some might call them clichés) of future
horse operas: a robbery, a chase on horseback, and a fierce
gun battle. It also had the bad guys getting their just deserts.
The western prospered during the silent era, becoming
standard fare for both children and adults with the emergence
of the first cowboy star, G. M. “Broncho Billy” Anderson, in
1908 in a film called Broncho Billy and the Baby. One of the big
changes in the genre wrought by Anderson was his filming on
location in the western United States—and audiences could
tell the difference between his stunning geography and the
grassy knolls of ordinary looking “eastern westerns.”
After Broncho Billy, William S. Hart was a top cowboy
star in the mid-1910s and early 1920s, raising the art of the
western with a gritty realism that made his movies, such as
Hell’s Hinges (1916) and Tumbleweeds (1925), genuine classics.
There were a great many popular western stars during
the latter half of the silent era, among them Ken Maynard,
Harry Carey, Fred Thompson, Tim McCoy, Buck Jones, and
Hoot Gibson, but the biggest western star of them all was
Tom Mix. During the late 1910s and throughout the rest of
the silent era, he was the number-one draw in western movies
and one of the most popular stars in Hollywood, with hits
such as The Cyclone (1920) and North of Hudson Bay (1924).
Mix’s films were marked by their nonstop action and lack of
realism. They were, however, full of incredible stunts.
Hollywood did not leave the western entirely in the
hands of cowboy stars, and many of Tinsel Town’s top direc-
tors worked in the genre as well, creating serious, big-budget
westerns. For instance, James Cruze made the hugely suc-
cessful The Covered Wagon (1923), followed by John Ford’s
earliest classic, The Iron Horse (1924).
The western appeared to be a casualty of the sound era
precisely because of its great, wide-open spaces; sensitive
sound equipment required talkies to be made in the studio.
However, as soon as the technical problems were solved, the
western reemerged with new popularity in films such as In Old
Arizona (1929), the first outdoor adventure film, and The Vir-
ginian (1929). Other important hits followed, such as Cimar-
ron (1931). Curiously, though, the big surge in westerns
throughout most of the rest of the decade occurred in low-
budget productions and serials. It was the era of, among oth-
ers, Bill Elliott, Kermit Maynard (Ken Maynard’s brother),
William Boyd, Rex Bell, George O’Brien, and Bob Steele, all
of whom made cheap, fast westerns that appealed to kids.
Even John Wayne was earning his spurs in quickie horse
operas and serials during the bulk of the 1930s. It was also
during this decade that the singing cowboy came into fashion
in the person of Gene Autry. It was not, however, a time when
westerns were taken seriously by the major studios.
Toward the end of the 1930s, however, the western sud-
denly shot back into prominence. With the world edging
closer to war, America began to look back at its heritage, its
values, searching for the spirit that made the nation great. The
WESTERNS
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