Saturday Morning Flashback: The New Adventures of the Lone Ranger (1980-1982): "The Runaway"

In the year 1980, CBS television began airing on Saturday mornings The Tarzan/Lone Ranger Adventure Hour (1980 - 1982), a beloved animated series from Filmation Studios that would also come to feature Zorro before the end of its run

The Lone Ranger segments were titled "The New Adventures of The Lone Ranger" and featured the baritone William Conrad (credited as J. Darnoc) as the voice of the masked man.  Many of the stories explicitly involved the development of late 19th century technology, particularly the ascent of the trans-continental railroad.

In the first episode of the series, "The Runaway," The Lone Ranger and Tonto (Ivan Naranjo) are bound for Grand Junction, Colorado and some trout fishing when they learn of a train in trouble.  It has been hit by bandits, who stole the bank company payroll.

The Lone Ranger and Tonto apprehend the bandits, but are asked to ride shotgun for a second train, of even greater importance.  This train -- described as a "milestone of railroad progress" -- houses the first fully-refrigerated train car to travel west.  It is carrying beef and fresh vegetables, and bound for Denver.  

But even more important than these food items, the car will be carrying a "perishable serum" that is needed to save a life in a Denver hospital.

The Lone Ranger and Tonto agree to babysit the serum, and not unexpectedly, bandits hit the train during its run.  

Ironically, the very presence of the Lone Ranger has convinced the outlaws that there must be a lot of money aboard the train, or some other great treasure.  Fortunately, Tonto and Lone Ranger save the day and deliver the medicine to Denver.

Like every episode of "The New Adventures of the Lone Ranger," this episode features a fun scene transition: the Lone Ranger's black mask whirls towards the camera, and moves us from one setting to the next.  

Another regular feature is an educational coda or lecture, at the end of the action, about the historical importance and/or accuracy of the preceding story, delivered by the Lone Ranger himself.  Here, the masked man talks about the importance of "refrigeration," and how it changed the world of the 1880s.

Crisply written and performed, "The Runaway" could very well have been an episode of the original TV series (1949 - 1957), with its accent on thrills and action.  The story is straight-forward, and there is a clear-cut sense of right and wrong in terms of the characters' behavior.  All the typical Lone Ranger elements are here, from the opening narration which describes his mysterious history and nature, to the closing and rousing call of "Hi Yo, Silver, away..."

From the Archive: The Lone Ranger: "The Lone Ranger's Triumph"

In “The Lone Ranger’s Triumph,” the opening arc of the series comes to a climax.

Here, Cavendish (Glenn Strange) escapes from Doc Drummond and Sheriff Taylor’s custody and orders his men to take the Lone Ranger “dead or alive.”

Meanwhile, Tonto (Jay Silverheels) attempts to get help from the police deputies at Colby, only be treated in disrespectful, bigoted fashion.  The deputies, In fact, are working with Cavendish and have been planted in Taylor’s department.

The Lone Ranger (Clayton Moore) and Tonto join up one more, and begin taking down Cavendish’s installed stooges in Colby.  They have the time to do this because Cavendish overheard some disinformation from the Lone Ranger, namely that the U.S. Cavalry was nearby, and was going to be recruited to stop the outlaw.  As Cavendish prepares for the cavalry, literally, the Lone Ranger and Tonto re-take Colby.

Taking down one villain at a time, the Lone Ranger and Tonto capture the town jail, and then proceed to stop the bad guys in their tracks.  Finally, after a long and intense chase, the Lone Ranger captures Cavendish and delivers him to the city jail.

When Tonto asks if their quest has ended with the capture of Cavendish, the Lone Ranger answers in the negative:  “Our job has just begun.  We have a lot of trails to follow.”

Although the episode title “(The Lone Ranger’s Triumph”) effectively gives away the narrative outcome, this is nonetheless a satisfactory resolution to the Cavendish arc.  The final chase scene does not disappoint, and it’s a pleasure to see a hero dispatching a villain without resorting to murder.  Here, Cavendish ends up in jail, pending trial.

Without belaboring the issue, it strikes me as especially important that The Lone Ranger does not count himself above the law, or feel that it his personal right to exact revenge.  He doesn’t mishandle Cavendish, or otherwise abuse him.  He does only what the law requires and permits…he brings a criminal to justice.  Once upon a time, this outcome was a given in our American entertainments, but somehow in recent years we have become afraid that by giving “bad guys” like terrorists a trial, we are somehow “weak.”  On the contrary, submitting villains to trial and justice is a real sign of strength. It shows that we believe in the rule of law, and that our principles are not mere things we talk about but representative of our actions.

In terms of the Lone Ranger mythos, all the final pieces fall into place here.  Once captured, Cavendish asks a variation of the famous line: “who was that masked man?” as the Lone Ranger and Tonto ride off into the sunset, bound for more adventures.  

And the Lone Ranger kicks off his departure with his  immortal radio sign off: "Hi-yo Silver, away…”

Perhaps of more genuine interest, at least by today’s standards, is the discriminatory way that Tonto is treated by virtually every Colby official he encounters.  “The redskin’s getting a little ornery,” one deputy notes dismissively, and it’s impossible not to parse the phrase in anything other than racist terms.  

What’s great about The Lone Ranger, however, is that this ugly talk comes from a certified bad guy, and thus equates racism and bigotry with the behavior of outlaws and other men of disrepute.  I must admit, I didn’t realize that programs as early as 1949 had taken this viewpoint regarding race in America, but it’s rewarding to see Tonto treated as true blue, while his dismissive enemies are, rightly, treated as ignorant thugs.  Late in this episode, Tonto proves his worth again, leading the cavalry into battle against Cavendish.

From the Archive: The Lone Ranger: "The Lone Ranger Fights On"

The second episode of The Lone Ranger (1949 – 1957) is called “The Lone Ranger Fights On” and it picks up at the cliffhanger ending of “Enter the Lone Ranger.” 

Tonto and the Lone Ranger battle the treacherous Collins (George Lewis), and shoot him down off his perch atop a cliff.  Afterwards, however, they express remorse that he too has died on this day:  “No one should have his life end like that.”

Then, the duo of Tonto and the Lone Ranger head to the Valley of Wild Horses, where they spy a buffalo about to stampede and kill a badly-wounded (and gorgeous) white stallion.  The Lone Ranger shoots the buffalo, and with Tonto’s help nurses the horse back to health.

After a time tending to the animal, the horse -- who Tonto has named Silver -- is healthy  and robust once again, and back on his feet.  The Lone Ranger notes: “I’d like that horse more than anything in the world, but if he wants to be free, he should go…”

They free Silver, and indeed, the animal returns, choosing to be the Lone Ranger’s steed.  The voice-over narrator announces: “Here is a partnership…the Lone Ranger and Silver accept each other, as equals.”

With a magnificent steed (or “dream horse” in the terminology of the episode), the Lone Ranger and Tonto head to the troubled town of Colby, where Cavendish (Glenn Strange) has launched a campaign to murder public officials and replace them with his own corrupt minions.  

A friend of the Lone Ranger’s named Jim Blaine (Ralph Littlefield) is framed by Cavendish as the murderer of a local judge, and Tonto and The Lone Ranger decide to hide him at a nearby silver mine that the Lone Ranger once discovered.

At the silver mine, one more piece of the legend fits into place. Tonto and The Lone Ranger settle on creating silver bullets as a “sort of symbol…which means justice for all.”

Outfitted with horse and silver bullets, The Lone Ranger decides it is time to take the fight directly to Butch Cavendish in Colby.  He enlists the services of the town doctor, Doc Drummond (George Chesebro), and the local Sheriff “Two Guns” Taylor (Walter Sande)...

As the preceding synopsis makes plain, a good portion of this sophomore episode, “The Lone Ranger Fights On” involves the Lone Ranger’s first encounter with Silver, his famous white horse. 

First the Lone Ranger shows Silver a kindness, by saving his life, and then freeing him.  And then Silver returns that kindness by becoming the lawman’s steed. The scenes involving Silver's training are really wonderful, and it’s great to see a story in which an animal’s needs are not considered secondary to tertiary to the demands of humans.  

As the dialogue I excerpted above makes plain, the Lone Ranger considers himself and Silver a pair, a team.  Call me mushy, but I love that.  I love that a sixty-year old something TV series understands the special bond that can be created between a human and an animal.

Silver bullets are also a key part of the Lone Ranger’s mythos -- even though the hero doesn’t fight werewolves -- and this episode shows Blaine refining silver for the lawman’s immediate needs, namely “money and bullets.”  Essentially, the silver bullet becomes the Lone Ranger’s calling card in the lawless West. He leaves them behind in his enemies as his signature. Therefore, lawmen know he has been involved, and outlaws know...fear.  

In terms of the overall arc, most of the ingredients for the series are now firmly in place.  The third and next episode “The Triumph of the Lone Ranger” involves the final take-down of the fiendish Butch Cavendish, and the climactic elements of each Lone Ranger televised adventure, but we’ll get to those in the next review...

From the Archive: The Lone Ranger: "Enter the Lone Ranger"

In the Southwest Territory of the Old West, a team of six Texas Rangers are betrayed by their guide, Collins (George Lewis), and led into a deadly ambush at the bottom of a canyon.  The Cavendish gang led by Butch Cavendish (Glenn Strange) is waiting for them, and kills all the brave men, save for one lucky survivor.

That lucky survivor manages to survive in the hot desert sun for a time, until rescued by an Indian scout, Tonto (Jay Silverheels).  Tonto remembers the wounded man from his youth, when the ranger saved his life, and decides to return the favor.

Once nursed back to health, the survivor of the canyon massacre puts on a black eye-mask and adopts the name “The Lone Ranger” (Clayton Moore).  He swears that “for every one of those men” (the rangers in their graves…) he is going to “bring a hundred law-breakers to justice.” 

When Tonto asks the Lone Ranger if he intends to commit murder to further his cause, the hero explain:.  “I’m not going to do any killing…If a man must die, it’s up to the law to decide that,” he says.

Following those honorable words, the Lone Ranger and Tonto team up to track down Collins, in hopes that the treacherous scout could lead them to the departed Butch Cavendish.  But Collins is armed and dangerous, and eager to take out the canyon massacre survivors…

The Lone Ranger (Clayton Moore) is born.

After watching “Enter the Lone Ranger,” the first episode of the TV series, I realized again how much that modern superhero lore owes to this character, and this beloved and popular TV incarnation of the character. 

In brief, this is the story of a man left for dead, who takes a personal tragedy (the death of his brother…Captain Reid) and transforms it into a galvanizing force for good in his life and the lives of others.

The Lone Ranger swears not revenge, but to bring law to a realm of lawlessness. He acts not out of rage or anger, but out of the steadfast belief that he was lucky to be spared, and now must make a positive difference in the world.

As you may be able to detect, there are strong echoes of Batman here, obviously, but also of other modern superheroes who are “born” in tragedy and darkness and despair.

The great thing about The Lone Ranger -- much like Superman -- is that he doesn’t use the fact that something terrible and unfair happened to him to immediately abandon his values and beliefs.  Instead, the tragedy actually strengthens those moral beliefs, as we see here. The Lone Ranger -- even though he was nearly killed -- refuses to kill in kind.

Thus the Lone Ranger understands that the response to rampant lawlessness can’t simply be…more lawlessness.  It’s a notion that, in many ways, our country is still learning in this post-War on Terror Age.

I also appreciate this episode’s stance on heroism.  The Lone Ranger begins as an entirely anonymous figure.  “Enter the Lone Ranger” commences with that team of six Rangers heading to the canyon (to face tragedy) and we don’t meet the Lone Ranger, or even see his face.  

Not even once.

Instead, he is just one of the team, an anonymous law man doing his job.  After he survives the battle, and is left wounded, we still don’t see his face.  His visage is obscured by a bandanna, and by careful camera-placement on the part of the director.  Only when he puts on the mask -- and thereby accepts his destiny -- does The Lone Ranger take center stage in the drama. 

The explicit message seems to be not that men are born heroes, but that events and experience lead them to that juncture of heroism.  Certainly that is the case for this man.

In terms of style, “Enter the Lone Ranger” is a fast-paced, action-packed series indeed, and this episode displays those qualities fully.  There are lots of on-screen wipes deployed as transitions, a technique also used in Star Wars (1977) to suggest speed, velocity, and accelerating excitement.  One thing is for certain: this episode moves fast, and is filled with shoot-outs and other intense action (and violence). “Enter the Lone Ranger” holds up remarkably well today, and proves incredibly entertaining.  

A film style that has not aged quite as gracefully as the visual flourish of the wipe is the overuse of voice-over narration.  Throughout this episode (and ensuing episodes), a baritone-voiced narrator explains the action as it occurs on-screen, even though the well-mounted visuals make the story abundantly clear.

“A lone figure moves painfully…he alone of the six Texas Rangers lives…” the narrator notes, for instance.  One could make the argument that such narration distances one from the action, or, contrarily, perhaps, that the narration makes the adventure into something longer-lasting than a TV show episode: a legend re-told and repeated. I’m on the fence about the technique, I suppose. It could be used less frequently.

Tonto (Jay Silverheels)

The scoundrel, Butch Cavendish (Glenn Strange).

The first several episodes of The Lone Ranger tell an entire tale, in toto, and “Enter the Lone Ranger” is only the first piece of it. This segment establishes the diabolical trap which kills the Rangers and gives birth, after a fashion, to the character of The Lone Ranger.  

The episode also introduces Tonto and his name for the Ranger, “kemosabe,” meaning “trusted scout” or, alternatively, “faithful friend.”

Outré Intro: The Lone Ranger (1949 - 1957)

There may be no theme song or introductory montage more famous than the one that heralds the beginning of every adventure of The Lone Ranger (1949 - 1957) starring Clayton Moore and Jay Silverheels.

The montage to this beloved black-and-white series commences to the tune of Rossini's The William Tell Overture (1829), a thrilling call to adventure that has become synonymous, over the last sixty years, with the Lone Ranger, and was even resurrected in last year's big budget feature film about the long-lived hero. The theme song gets the adrenaline going, and immediately makes the audience aware that action is the destination.

In fact, the introductory montage maintains a kinetic, almost hyper pace throughout, with the Lone Ranger seen almost entirely in motion. We see him riding, at top speed, atop his ivory steed, Silver, firing his gun at outlaws, and then watch as he rides down a hill towards the audience.  

He turns left, rides up the mountainside, and Silver rears up majestically on his hind legs.  This particular image is iconic, it's fair to state.

The montage continues below. For the first time in the intro, the Lone Ranger is still -- unmoving -- but just long enough for audiences to read the title card for this week's episode.  After the title is displayed, it's back to the galloping action...

The voice-over narration in the following section of the montage changed over the years. Sometimes, it describes the Lone Ranger as a "fabulous individual" who would cause "fear in the lawless" and offer "hope to those who wanted to make this frontier land their home."

In other versions, the imagery remained identical but the montage voice-over introduced Tonto as the Lone Ranger's companion, and invited viewers to return to "Yesteryear" to experience the adventure all over again.

Regardless of the version viewed, the montage concludes with the Lone Ranger, still in motion, riding away from camera, off into his newest adventure.  

Most episodes of the series maintain the pace, excitement and velocity suggested by this introduction.

Below, the stirring montage in action.

The Lone Ranger Week: The New Adventures of The Lone Ranger (Filmation; 1980) Intro

The Legend of the Lone Ranger (1981)

"Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear... The Lone Ranger rides again!"

Oh, if only that were so...

When I was a little boy living in New Jersey, a local TV station (WPIX, I think...) ran an afternoon block of heroic programming. First The Adventures of Superman (1952-1958), then Batman (1966-1969) and then, finally...The Lone Ranger (1949-1957). 

This went on every weekday for a long time...and boy...I was in kiddie heaven. I remember some days begging my Mother to take me home from Brookdale Park so I could get home in time to see these TV programs!

Anyway, Clayton Moore portrayed the heroic Lone Ranger in the 1950s series (along with John Hart, for two years), and I admired the Lone Ranger as a child (and now, as a man) because of his moral creed. He didn't drink or smoke. Not only did he speak beautifully (never indulging in slang or jargon), but he believed that "all men are created equal and that everyone has within himself the power to make this a better world." Most importantly, the Lone Ranger never shot to kill.

Despite my love for the 1950s Lone Ranger TV series (and I even owned a complete set of Gabriel's 1973 10-inch Lone Ranger figures...), I would have certainly welcomed, by 1981, a modern take on the classic material; just as I had welcomed with open arms the updated Superman: The Movie (1978). 

But with The Legend of The Lone Ranger (1981), a notorious box office bomb, something went wrong.

I watched The Legend of the Lone Ranger again last week, for the first time in years, and was shocked anew at just how bad this film is. In fact, I was unpleasantly reminded of Tarzan: The Ape Man another 1981 film which failed to do justice to an iconic hero. At least Tarzan: The Ape Man has Bo Derek starring (and disrobing...) in it, and boasts a high-degree of camp value. The Legend of the Lone Ranger is just plodding.

Actually, The Legend of the Lone Ranger fails on three distinct fronts. But before I get to each particular failure, a brief re-cap is in order: The Legend of the Lone Ranger tells the story of the "man behind the mask" (as per the ballad of the Lone Ranger, performed by Merle Haggard).

In the Old West (Texas, 1854), young John Reid sees his parents brutally murdered by bandits and is taken in by friendly Indians to live as one of the natives. Reid's "blood brother" is Tonto, and at this early age, Reid decides irrevocably to follow "the trail of justice." Soon, however, he is removed from his Indian life by his older brother, Dan, a ranger who sends John back East to become an attorney.

Several years later, a grown John (Klinton Spilsbury) returns to the wild west hoping to make it a terrain where justice prevails, but in local "Del Rio," (a town in trouble, Merle Haggard tells us...) he finds that much of the territory is already in thrall to the power-hungry, psychotic Butch Cavendish (Christopher Lloyd), a warlord who seeks to kidnap President Ulysses S. Grant (Jason Robards). 

Before long, John, his brother Dan and a team of rangers are led into a Cavendish trap by a traitor in the ranger ranks and -- after a brutal gun fight -- left for dead.

Only John survives the massacre. He is nursed back to health by a now-adult Tonto (who happened by the crime scene at just the right moment...) and soon launches his quest for justice. But first, John must "dig a grave for John Reid" and become The Lone Ranger; a masked man who rides a white steed named Silver, and who uses silver bullets in combat.

The Legend of the Lone Ranger's first and most egregious failing is that it doesn't seem to know its audience (which, if you ask me, would include generations of "grown up" boys and girls who loved the TV show). By this, I mean that Legend of the Lone Ranger is the ugliest, gauziest, dustiest-looking western since Michael Cimino's Heaven's Gate (1980).

It's not just that the movie is unpleasant to watch...it's actually unpleasant to look at. You can hardly make out faces, the film is so gritty and soiled-looking. I would argue that this is precisely the wrong visual for any Lone Ranger production. We should be inspired by the beauty of the West, by those gorgeous wide open skies and natural landscapes; just as the Lone Ranger is himself inspired by the promise of America. I mean, I know dark things happen in the Lone Ranger's origin, but no one in their right mind would live in a Wild West that looked like this, forever inside its own whirling Dust Bowl.'

Secondly, this is a film that, in the first few minutes, depicts innocent Mrs. Reid (John's mother) dragged behind a horse by bandits, and then shot and killed at point-blank range. Later, the film doesn't cut away when two bandits are executed by Cavendish, and we see the bloody impact wounds blossom on their chests. I'm no prude, but the Lone Ranger in the past was a franchise that didn't exploit graphic violence. The Lone Ranger himself never killed his enemies; and furthermore lived by a code of justice that he applied to all: criminals and honest citizens alike. It's a mistake, I submit, given the history of the franchise, to revel in bloody demises like those depicted here. It seems antithetical to what the Lone Ranger is all about.

I'd also state that The Legend of the Lone Ranger doesn't know its audience because it makes several basic mistakes in franchise information and background. For instance, this film transforms heroic John Reid into a rookie attorney (!) not an experienced ranger, when he is involved in the massacre. It also establishes that he is a terrible shot, one whose skill is miraculously improved only when Tonto gives him silver bullets. In most incarnations of the Lone Ranger, Reid is a talented marksman and ranger before the events that change his life. Frankly, that origin makes more sense. Silver bullets aren't magic in and of themselves (though I guess they can kill werewolves...). I just don't see how silver bullets make a person's aim more true, even if, according to Tonto, "silver is pure."

The Legend of the Lone Ranger's second, and perhaps most catastrophic failing is that it is dull beyond  conventional forms of measurement. This is an action movie that moves at a snail's pace. It takes thirty-eight long minutes just to get to the ranger massacre in the gully. It takes to forty-eight minutes to introduce Silver. Key scenes are notably and irrevocably dull. For instance, the moment when Reid tames Silver is extended relentlessly by slow motion photography (think of Tarzan's wrestling match with a boa in Tarzan the Ape Man), and becomes almost laughable in its duration. I'm a long-time admirer of composer John Barry, but his lugubrious, ponderous score only contributes to the sense that this movie is a dead weight around your shoulders...never ending, ugly, and with nothing of significance occurring. 

"Thrilling days of yesteryear?" You won't find them here...

The film's final flaw is simple: basic incompetence. Through the entire film, Klinton Salisbury's voice is badly dubbed by James Keach, and you can tell. Worse, in key moments, (particularly the horse whispering moment), it is obvious that Silver is played by at least two very different horses. You know a movie is in trouble when you have the time to notice that the lead horse is being stunt-doubled...

The only time this movie comes to life is when that inspiring William Tell Overture is dragged out of mothballs and the pulse quickens.

What a disappointment. The children of 1981 deserved better.

Movie Trailer: The Legend of the Lone Ranger (1981)

The Lone Ranger Week: Lone Ranger Comic Books (Dell Edition)

The Lone Ranger Week: Whitman Frame Tray Puzzle (1967)

Model Kits of the Week: The Lone Ranger and Tonto (Aurora)

The Lone Ranger Week: "Pete and Pedro" (October 27, 1949)

In "Pete and Pedro," a beautiful rancher named Ellen Carter (Sheila Ryan) is being bullied by a local thug, Jeff Grant (John Parrish).  Grant continues to kidnap her workers, and desires to own her ranch so he that can build a railroad line across it.  That's his stated reason, anyway. The truth is, Grant has located gold on Ellen's property and he wants to mine it.

The Lone Ranger (Clayton Moore) and Tonto (Jay Silverheels) arrive to help Ellen, who feels that she is being bullied in part because she is a woman.  

The Lone Ranger knows she needs ranch-workers to keep the place going, and recommends two he knows he can trust: Pedro Martinez (Don Diamond) and Pete Lacey (Rufe Davis).  These men are known as "two of the laziest hombres in the whole county" but when they see they are going to be working for lovely Ellen, they (both) fall immediately in love with her.

While Tonto infiltrates Jeff Grant's organization, The Lone Ranger, Pedro and Pete fight off the bullies trying to take Ellen's land.  Then, Grant captures the entire group, including Ellen's foreman, Bill (William F. Leicester) and Tonto, and traps them in a burning barn.

The heroes manage to escape the death trap, and get the jump on Jeff Grant.  

Finally, Pedro and Pete are disappointed to learn that Ellen is already in love with Bill, but are happy to accept long-term jobs on the ranch...

"Pete and Pedro" does a good job dealing with women's rights in the Old West, and Ellen Carter is a tough, capable character.  The episode does a bit less well with Pete and Pedro, who form an obnoxious comedy duo, and quickly wear out their welcome.  The presentation of the Pedro character -- a Mexican -- is a bit two-dimensional, to be certain.

This is the first Lone Ranger episode I've watched that seems to drag a bit, as endless time is spent with Pete and Pedro bickering about which of them Ellen loves more.  The didactic-nature of previous episodes continues here, however, with commentary on the strong exploiting the weak. As is universally the case, the Lone Ranger defends the weak.

Produced more than sixty years ago, The Lone Ranger remains a truly adventurous and action-packed series.  "Pete and Pedro" may not be its finest (half) hour, but still the series' virtues shine through. 

Theme Song of the Week: The Lone Ranger (1949)