★★★
“One of the first TV action heroines; for 50 years old, better than you might expect.”
This TV series was Gene Autry’s idea; he wanted to give little girls a western star of their own, and created a show based on the character of Oakley, the most famous sharpshooter of all time. In his version, she lives in Diablo with her brother Tagg (Hawkins) and keeps the town safe along with deputy Lofty Craig (Johnson) – the sheriff, Annie’s uncle Luke, was somehow very rarely around… It ran for 81 episodes from January 1954 to February 1957; two DVDs, with five first season stories on each, have been released by Platinum – you can get the box set of both for $5.99, which is a steal.
Given its age, it’s no surprise that this is certainly a little hokey, but is by no means unwatchable. The writers cram a lot into each 25-minute episode, and Oakley is a sharp-witted heroine, in most ways years ahead of the usual portrayal of women (though still afraid of mice!) – she’d probably be a better deputy than Lofty! It certainly helped that Davis, a mere 5’2″, was a skilled rider herself, and did most of her own stunts. However, this being a 50’s TV show, there are limits. Annie never kills anyone, preferring to shoot the gun from their hand, while fisticuffs are left to Lofty, though at least one ep (Annie and the Lily Maid) has an unexpected mini-catfight.
Perhaps the best episode on the DVDs is Justice Guns, where an ex-marshal with failing sight seeks revenge on the man who shot his brother. Annie has to try and solve the situation, and while you know she will survive, the lawman’s fate is much less certain as the four o’clock shootout approaches. In a series that is, even I will admit, often sugary and predictable, this has genuine tension, and that’s something which five decades haven’t changed one bit.
Star: Gail Davis, Brad Johnson, Jimmy Hawkins
The first ten minutes of this seem intent on running out every stereotype possible: Pam Grier as a hot-headed black cop, juggling her job with life as a single mother, taking on prejudiced neighbours, etc, etc. Even her name – Wilder – sounds like something generated by a cliche machine. But as the film goes on, it twists away from the murder-mystery it starts as, eventually corkscrewing off into conspiracy theory, the black market in radioactive materials, illicit medical experiments and corrupt big business.
We Brits don’t do girls-with-guns movies: too busy drinking tea and arranging matchsticks, I imagine. This is a rare exception, and works not badly, combining a striking ‘Italian’ hitwoman in Maria (Torgan), with the bone-dry sarcasm of Guy Ritchie – at least, before he started making movies starring his missus, Madonna. Maria is brought in by Newcastle cop Bryant (Fairbrass) after the local crime lord (Leach) leaves a fellow policeman nailed to Bryant’s front door. Only, Bryant can’t afford to pay her, so blackmails some local thugs, led by Charlie (Thirkeld) to kill her after she’s done the job. Needless to say, things don’t quite go as planned, and the dead bodies start to accumulate, in a most non-British way.
Four unlikely women team up, for their own but unselfish reasons, in order to rob the bank where one (Ozores) works as a cleaning lady. There’s also a rich bankrupt, out to fund her daughter’s wedding; a slutty hairdresser who’s just found out she’s pregnant; and an antisocial punk orphan, who wants to be reunited with her father in Argentina. What makes this Spanish film work, is less the action, and more the characters – or at least, the women, since the men never become more than two-dimensional. The script is brisk and efficient, moving things along with swift abandon, and sucks the viewer in to a connection with the ladies, their problems, and the solution.
Roller Derby is quintessentially American; like the drive-in, it’s rarely seen outside the US. And also like the drive-in, it began in the 1930’s, when Chicago’s Leo Seltzer combined two crazes: roller-skating and the dance marathon. His contest for couples, over 57,000 laps (the distance between Los Angeles and New York). drew 20,000 spectators in its opening week. The power of the concept was proven, but it took a few years for it to evolve into a contact sport – Damon Runyon, author of Guys and Dolls, helped Seltzer incorporate these elements, and also the change in aim from distance to the scoring of points.
The golden era of the sport began in the 1950’s, when television helped roller derby become popular in almost every state. However, the 1970’s saw it go into decline, and it has never recovered, despite attempts to revive it. Most recently, there was RollerJam, an exercise closer to professional wrestling and co-funded by TNN, that stumbled along despite the assistance of Leo Seltzer’s son, Jerry, and finally went under in June 2000.
After getting through, the jammers then lap the pack, and again approach it from behind. Only this time, they score one point for every opponent they pass. Which is where the fun starts, since the opposition is trying to block them, and their team-mates are trying to block the blockers, while also stopping the opposition’s jammer from passing them and scoring. A match consists of two periods, each lasting twenty minutes; most points wins.
I was a little surprised to see a flat track, it was simply marked out on the surface of the rink with rope lights; the teams are working towards banking, and have weekly fundraisers at Ziggy’s in Tempe – including a spanking booth! For the moment, they make do and, regardless, the pace was fast and furious; while the skating ability on view was variable, these women are athletes, make no mistake about it. The best jammers, such as Sara Veza and Go Go Liz, slid through the pack like a knife through butter. Even rookies like ourselves could see the skill required, while perhaps not appreciating the subtle refinements of the sport. [Alright, “subtle” is stretching it. There’s a whole page on their website, with photos of the injuries players have received…]
This compilation puts together four episodes – three from the first season, plus another at the time exclusive to the DVD. It’s hard to see who this is aimed at: if you’ve not seen the series, novices may find elements, such as Ron’s naked mole rat, kinda bizarre (trivia note: the rat’s squeaks are by Nancy Cartwright, who also does some loser called Bart Simpson). On the other hand, fans will have seen almost all the material, and would likely far rather have seen a complete Box Set rather than semi-random episodes. They’re not even particularly highly-regarded ones: the 
Where is Sydney, and what have you done with her? We might have been forgiven for uttering this cry at the end of season three, which exited not with a bang, but a whimper. “We need to talk.” That’s pretty much what Jack said to Sydney after she discovered, apparently, that her entire life had been a CIA operation. This was hardly a surprise, if you remembered Project Christmas from earlier on, Jack’s plan which tested first-graders – including his own daughter – for spyworthy attributes. The news that the show wouldn’t restart until January 2005 thus provoked little more than mild disappointment.
This comes across less like a Western, more like a feature-length rap promo – with every bit as much emotional depth or historical accuracy. The idea that a gang of ethnic gun-toting women could ever ride into town at the turn of the century, and get served at the local saloon with little problem stretches credulity to near-breaking. It then snaps entirely when faced with their always-immaculate clothes and hair, even as the ladies sleep rough. The group of former bank-robbers return to the fray after the sister of one is killed by outlaws, under the control of the one-eyed Bobby Brown. Insert Whitney Houston joke here. He and his gang have taken control of a town, from a sheriff with a startlingly Australian accent, as part of their search for treasure supposedly buried locally.
If I ever become an assassin, I will never utter the words “last” and “job” to anyone – it’s just 