The Rough Riders

Even as all TV westerns were beginning to look and sound pretty much the same in 1958, here was one that dared to be different - perhaps too different, as it lasted only one season on ABC, in a late evening spot that attracted little attention. The premise was simple enough: immediately following the Civil War, two yankees - a no-nonsense officer (Kent Taylor, formerly TV's Boston Blackie and still sporting the same abrupt mustache) and a large, mean-looking but easygoing sergeant (Peter Whitney) team up with an elegant looking southerner (Jan Merlin) and head west together, looking for a fresh start. Ordinarily, a series like this would begin with a pilot which set the stage for how the three came together in the first place, though that was not the case here. We were more or less thrown into the situation and asked to fend for ourselves. What most qualified the show as an original was that, other than the opening shot of the three riding over a hill together while a narrator spoke in voice-over about this being the beginning of the legend that would lead, half a century later and miles away, to the charge on San Juan Hill, most of the series took place not in easily identifiable western settings - prairies, mountains, towns, deserts, etc. - but in thick swamps, where the trio appeared to have bogged down. It wasn't until nearly halfway through the season that they ever even wandered into a town that looked at all like those seen in other western TV shows of the time. This lent ROUGH RIDERS a unique aura, for the trio almost seemed like that couple in Twilight Zone - you know, the one that kept trying to drive or travel by train out of a small town but always ended up right back where they had begun? Supposedly these three were headed west, but week after week, we'd seen them pass the same bog, ride under the same moss covered tree, as if they had somehow become disconnected from all the other similar western series then taking place. none of the scripts particularly stood out as strong - all the shows seemed variations on the same theme, with character - and the relationships of the three characters - taking precedence. Until cancellation time, of course. Not that this was a whole lot better than most oaters on the small screen at that time - but is sure was different!

This 1958 series from ZIV got lost in the sea of other 30-minute filmed black and white westerns that deluged TV in the late 1950s. However, it has many points of interest, including a good cast--- three stalwart, very different heroes, with the stories successively featuring each in turn. The authenticity of the series is also impressive. Firearms are correct for roughly 1870, and properly single-action, and there seem to be almost no sets, as such. Most action takes place outdoors, but indoor sequences seem to take place in real rooms in real buildings. Jan Merlin is, as he was on TOM CORBETT, SPACE CADET, the most interesting member of the trio. It's as if a time machine had taken Roger Manning back to 1870.

The writing is above average. The series has an interesting concept: Veterans from a war continue to contend with conflict which incited a war.

I guess the other person commenting didn't watch the same series I watched, because I loved it.

It was actually a Yankee Sergeant (Peter Whitney) that teamed up with a Yankee Captain (Kent Taylor) and a Rebel Lieutenant (Jan Merlin) who roamed the west fighting trouble and bad guys.

It was a lesson in how to put past troubles and differences behind you and move on with your life. Another lesson was in teamwork and looking out for one another.

Today's TV shows could take a lesson in this formula.

After the end of the Civil War, three war-weary veterans – intrepid, quietly authoritative ex-Union Captain James Flagg, big, jack-of-all-trades Tennessee woodsman and former Union Sergeant Buck Sinclair, and dashing, sunny-natured ex-Confederate cavalryman Lt. Colin Kirby – form their own small Band of Brothers and head west toward California. Their adventures along the way are reminiscent of a sort of pre-automobile "Route 66."

The trusting, brotherly relationship of the three vets is very appealing, with the two younger men looking up to Capt. Flagg as their natural leader. Sinclair and Kirby have an enjoyable, "Hoss and Little Joe"-like teasing relationship. Sinclair good-naturedly grouses that the irrepressible Kirby, who has gone fishing, is so lucky that, should there be only 3 fish in the river, "he'll catch two and the third will trip on a rock and flop at his feet."

The writing is well done for a 1950s western series, with humor, emotion, and lots of action. There does not seem to have been any real pilot to the series explaining why two ex-Yanks are partnered with an ex-Reb (who, when the two Yanks introduce themselves as "formerly of the Union army," makes a point of clarifying that he is "NOT formerly of the Union army"). However, in a later episode, Kirby explains that the two Union vets at one point saved his life, he came to trust them, and now they head west with common purpose.

It's a shame this series did not last longer, for it's an interesting show with fairly complex lead characters and a unique premise (but terrible theme music). The three lead actors were well-known character actors: urbane Kent Taylor, gentle giant Peter Whitney, and a very young, high-energy Jan Merlin. Merlin, a native New Yorker, spoke his role with an easy, authentic Southern accent that never slipped, and he was completely believable as a dashing Virginia cavalryman.

To me, the most appealing aspect of this series was the relationship of the three veterans, which seemed genuinely trusting and full of brotherly affection. Easy humor between the men was evident in every episode, despite typical western, shoot-'em-up action and a limited filming locale that seemed to indicate the men were constantly riding the same circle of trails. But the appealing writing held sway: in one episode, daring Lt. Kirby objects to Capt. Flagg's cautious flanking approach to an outlaw enclave. Kirby says when he'd been part of General Jeb Stuart's Cavalry, they'd have charged, full speed, directly at their opponents. When told that he and (the long-departed) Jeb Stuart are welcome to go ahead and charge the outlaws head-on, Kirby pauses, thinks better of his reckless plan, then shrugs and cheerfully announces that "Ol' Jeb's decided to charge down that road all by hisself." How can you not chuckle?