Democrat and Chronicle from Rochester, New York • Page 127

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From left: Anthony Quinn in 'Flap'; Robert Blake, Katharine Ross in 'Tell them Willie Boy is Here'; Richard Harris, Manu Tupau in 'A Man Called Hollywood's Indian Massacre 25; Movies answer to every movie Indian girl's teen-age ptayer. This obviously doesn't set well with Indian men. GRUNTING AND SWEATING, WHITE hero and Indian villain punch it out with fist, tomahawk, knife, lance and burning log. Quite often, the bad guy (i.e. the Indian) falls on his own knife, which conveniently lands blade-up.

Should even this grace be denied him, he and his delinquent buddies stage a mass skulk-out while the old people shake their heads and wonder what's become of the younger generation. As the full moon rises, the baddies strike out for vengeance aid the fun begins. Two reels later, the; jtyj Indian (sometimes Hugh O'Brian) crumples in death and Robert Wagner and Debra Paget ride off, hand in hand, while the rest of the tribe rides off to noble starvation on their government claim. RAISING AN INDIAN GIRL IN A RED- neck Anglo-Saxon farm family anywhere but in the movies, without anyone really sure whethei1 she was an Indian or not, would be roughly the same as passing a Japanese as a Swede. But in Hollywood, all things are possible, except, of course, letting Indians play Indian roles other than those of old wrinkled men.

The list of actors playing Indian roles runs the gauntlet from Boris Karloff, "Uncon-quered" (1939), to Victor Mature "Chief Crazy Horse" (1956), to Hugh O'Brian, "White Feather" (1954), to Victor Jory, Ricardo Mon-talban, Gilbert Roland, and Sal Mineo, "Cheyenne Autumn" (1966), and crisscrosses over the career of the redoubtable Anthony Quinn, who moved up from the bit role of a nameless and drunken Cheyenne warrior in "The Plainsman" (1937) to Crazy Horse in "They Died With Their Boots On" (1941) and an Eskimo in "Savage Innocents" (1962) and finally, back down to the depths of degradation as the inept and alcoholic Chief Flapping Eagle in "Flap" (1970). Here and there, an older Indian sometimes manages to skulk on screen and he is often Iron Eyes Cody. Old Iron Eyes fits perfectly Hollywood's golden ager. That is, he looks like the profile on the buffalo nickel. Young braves, on the other hand, must fulfill one requirement to look like brown white people.

HOLLYWOOD'S NEW WAVE OF REAL- ism, billed as a boon to the Indian, has failed to impress most of them. "A Man Called Horse," ballyhooed as the first picture to show the Indian in his full dignity, instead nauseated many Indians. After one glimpse, most of them said they preferred the Good Old Days with Debra Paget. In the film, the Sun Dance rite of the Yu-wepi religion, was distorted and degraded into a super-gory fraternity stunt, and the Indians themselves found their image changed from that of Noble Savages to that of Less-Than-No-ble Savages. "Little Big Man" gave the public Dan George, a real Indian, albeit from Canada, while it threw the Red Men a left hook by importing a Chinese Eurasian girl to play opposite hero Dustin Hoffman.

The Indians liked Dan, ignored Dustin. Nancy Kwan, a Chinese girl noted for Japanese roles, was cast as an Indian in a picture with Burl Ives, and Katherine Ross, starred in "Tell Them Willie Boy is Here." NOBODY PLANNED IT THAT WAY, BUT the movies have done a hatchet job on a whole people. What the Noble Red Man is like, it would take more than one realistic movie to tell us. The tainted impression is deep and wide and in color. What do they think, the real American Indians, of the images of their ancestors and themselves that Hollywood projects on their screen? Understandably they all may share the reaction of a deeply traditional young Sioux, John Eagle Shield, a consultant at the American Museum of Natural History, who, summed up Hollywood's contributions to the original Americans: "I like Westerns," he decided thoughtfully, "but only the kind where it's one cowboy shoo-tin' another cowboy.

There should be more of that stuff." By JOHN KOSTER Peering down from the4 sun-baked crags at the wagon train, Hollywood's favorite Indian warrior, Anthony Quinn, signals the attack. Whooping and shrieking, the pajnted av- ages swoop down and drive off fife wagon train's pony herd. As the tribesmen gallop off into the hills, George Armstrong Custer, America's pure-hearted boy general portrayed by Errol Flynn hurdles after them alone. Quinn, impetuous savage that he is, whirls and rashly charges back at the fearless white leader. With two strokes of his chromed saber, Flynn knocks the tomahawk from Quinn's band, slices through his bridle, and conveys the beaten barbarian back to the wagon train.

"Yellow Hair!" the pseudo-Sioux grunts through his bent Irish-Mexican nose. "Yellow Hairl No kill with rope!" THE FILM WAS "THEY DIED WITH Their Boots On," the year was 1941, and the Indian defamed by this portrayal was Crazy Horse, a tactician who serious students of warfare have compared to Jeb Stuart and a horseman who could have ridden circles around George Armstrong Custer or Errol Flynn with or without a' bridle. Quinn's portrayal was true to a stereotype movie Indian, one of the two usual film images of the Red Man, both wild distortions based on a false concept. Firstly, the Indian is a savage, less than man, sometimes noble but a savage up to no good. The other image is that he is sometimes noble but stupid, a kind of blind fool.

For 50 years, Western on Western, moviegoers have been seeing these make-believe Indians. Now, the new moviemakers of Westerns say they are off to present the "real" Indian. Their advance publicity waves humanistic descriptives "The Indian as a man, with strength and weaknesses, backed by a kinship with nature, strengthened by honorable traditions. Unfortunately, advance men in the publicity world are often just that they are gone before the show comes to town. In the current epidemic of "good" Indian films, many of the white actors playing Indians seem too drunk or otherwise discombobulated to kill anyone.

TRIBALLY, HOLLYWOOD INDIANS seem to vary, graded by some unknown Hollywood casting cliches. Cheyennes are usually good. Sioux are a toss-up, they can go either way. Apaches, except in "Broken Arrow," and "Taza, Son of Cochise," are always bad. "Do you know what Indians do to white women when they capture them?" the hysterical redhead shrieks at Robert Wagner in "White Feather" (1954).

Robert Wagner didn't know, but he had a hunch. Screen Indians, you see, are given to all forms of depravity. Not so the gentle Indian maidens, however. Ever since Debra Paget first set eyes on james Stewart, in "Broken Arrow" (1950) the film's ubiquitous, white heroes have always been the' War Party What do Indians think of their Hollywood image? Using the tomahawk to show relative merit, here are the results of an informal poll of young Indians. One tomahawk denotes lair to good, fwa tomahawks poor, three terrible, and lour a massacre.

AA Hue" 170) "The only good part of this plctur was the massacre of the Indians by tine cavalry. That saved it becouse it showed the truth. The rest was junk." AW" Men Celled Hone" (170) "Same old savage stereotypy White actors playing cigar-stora "Little Kg Me." (170) A "Chief Dan George was great ana Dustin Hoffman was bad. But the picture) actually showed tome things realist), colly." 'The lost "Showed the white man wiping out the buffalo and it depicted something of Indian values ond religion. Pretty good picture for the time it was made." A "TeH Them Willie ley li Here" 0) AAA ''The producer said he couldn't final any real Indians to play in this one.

Ht couldn't find them because ht appar ently didn't look." 'Tht Stelking "The Indian was shown as a totally primitive animal who'd kill anything." AAA "listen Arrow" (19S0) "It showed what the tndlans wart mad about namely, white people hunt Ing them for scalps." A AAAA (Oriiln.f titlel "Need teres a Drunken (170) "This picture made a joke of Indian rights. Wa don't mind a laugh at our. selves but this picture made us look Ms leW.