The Castaway Cowboy (1974)

I’ve heard things about this one. Having the word “cowboy” in the title already doesn’t bode well, but I’ve heard things about this one.

Disclaimer: This blog is purely recreational and not for profit. Any material, including images and/or video footage, are property of their respective companies, unless stated otherwise. The authors’ claim no ownership of this material. The opinions expressed therein reflect those of the authors and are not to be viewed as factual documentation. All photos are capped from my copy of the movie with InstantShot! unless otherwise specified.

Sorry this one took so long, real life got rough for a while. After The Bears and I my motivation to write about another bad movie was severely lacking. Plus I hurt my hand and typing was a little rough there for a while.

The Interwebs don’t seem to particularly care about documenting Disney films of the 1970s. There are, again, no fun facts or trivia or making of information for this movie. It’s another Vincent McEevety effort, with a screenplay by Don Tait who also wrote Snowball Express. Oh, and the star of the movie remembers that, “the best thing in it is the Hawaiian scenery”. I’ve also been told that this film is actually worse than One Little Indian and that’s about all I’ve got to say. Hold me.

STORY

It’s another beautiful sunny night in paradise. No, really. The opening scene of this movie is supposed to take place at night. I did not edit the above screen shot in any way. Artistry is going to be fun. Booton MacAvoy splashes with his Native Hawaiian friends, who call him Little Maca because his name is dumb. He clambers along the rocks to try his hand at spearfishing like the grown-ups. But wait– that thing floating in the surf– that’s not a fish. That’s a man!

Booton runs for the house, screaming for his mother. Henrietta MacAvoy and her Native Hawaiian housekeeper Liliha scrambled to prepare the guest room for the injured man. But only after Lilha scolds everyone for making noise in the middle of the night. Um. Sure. The filmmakers take the sunglasses off the camera and now it’s morning. Booton sneaks into the guest room just as their patient wakes up. He cheerfully introduces himself and his name is so stupid that the guest thinks he’s joking. And so begins a running gag where he just can’t get the kid’s name right. He also announces that they’re on the Sandwich Islands, a name that stopped being used for the Hawaiian Islands years before this movie is supposed to take place. Whatever you call them, they’re a long way off from Texas, where the castaway calls home.

Henrietta walks in to assure him he’s not completely stranded and the two instantly start making goo-goo eyes at each other. Proper introductions happen and we find out his name is Lincoln Costain (Link to his friends, except no one ever actually calls him that). He was lured onto a ship under false pretenses and escaped the only way he could. Still, Henrietta thinks he might be a deserter and they agree it’ll be best for him to get out of here as quickly as possible. Maybe she mistook him for Keyes from One Little Indian.

And then things go south. In her earlier scene, Liliha spoke with a Hawaiian pidgin accent- maybe not completely accurate, but comprehensible. From this scene on, she and the rest of the Native Hawaiians speak in the third person, with dropped articles and simplistic language. It’s very similar to the stilted way Hollywood thinks indigenous Americans speak, and it’s bad. Also, I don’t love that all the indigenous Hawaiian woman are serving a white woman’s huge estate on the Hawaiian islands. That just feels icky. About as icky as Costain finds Liliha’s soup, because it’s made of raw fish and squid. Oh those silly indigenous people and their crazy backwards food.

One quick recovery later Costain is out and about, though still turning his nose up at Liliha’s cooking. He also turns his nose up at the Hawaiian hat Booton makes for him, and can’t even be bothered to get the kid’s name right, let alone pretend to be grateful. That doesn’t deter Booton any. He’s already decided that this is his dad now, despite having an island full of Native Hawaiian dudes who adore him and taught him all kinds of stuff. I guess it’s different when it’s a tough, manly white dude. Henrietta’s all for it, leaving the boys to some good old-fashioned male bonding while she runs errands in town. Before she leaves on her horse, Costain asks her to keep an eye out for a ship back to Texas.

When she gets to town, she meets up with Calvin Bryson, a local businessman with eyes on Henrietta and her land. Booton hates the idea of having him as a stepfather, but luckily, Henrietta is wise to his games. She refuses point-blank to marry him because she owes him money and also she’s not interested. He tries in vain to butter her up but she’s too focused on an ad for a ship to San Francisco.

During a tour of the island, Costain is incensed to see the farmhands playing in the water. This farm is 10,000 acres of failing potato crops and they’re having fun! The gall! The subtext is, of course, that brown people are lazy good-for-nothings and it is appalling, but we’re supposed to sympathize with him as he waxes poetic about how they work hard in Texas. Booton eggs him on, asking all about his home, which escalates into increasingly personal questions. And you know, comparing marriage to smallpox is relatable but that previous conversation really killed any liking I had for Costain.

And it gets worse. A frantic alarm from Liliha interrupts the reluctant father-son bonding moment. A whole herd of cattle invaded the fields! The farmhands race to the fields, bumbling and fumbling and utterly failing to beat the animals back with shovels and sticks and a cannon loaded with dirt. It’s all very wacky to watch the indigenous Hawaiian people falling all over themselves and being generally incompetent, but sooner or later someone has to save them from themselves. It’s the white man to the rescue! Costain seizes a length of rope and swings the makeshift lasso around until he drives all the cattle out of the fields. One bull escapes the mass exodus and charges for Booton, so Costain wrestles him to the ground. Now he’s the hero of the day.

That night at dinner, Booton just can’t shut up about how amazing Costain is. Henrietta just can’t believe how amazing he is, being able to control the cattle who have been causing so much trouble. After all, she’s just a little lady and her farmhands are brown, so competence is way too much to ask. I am being heavily sarcastic out of sheer disgust with the way everyone who isn’t Costain is infantilized. In case that wasn’t abundantly obvious. They’re such incredible screwups that Costain suggests they scrap their failing potato farm completely and turn to his vastly superior cattle business. It’s much more profitable, not to mention rugged manly white boy approved. Henrietta loves the idea so much that she lies and tells him there are no ships, so he might as well stay to help during the transition period.

And the movie just keeps doubling down on the offensiveness. Henrietta explains the upcoming changes slowly and clearly, like she’s talking to very small children or complete idiots. Despite the fact that Henrietta was shown to own a horse earlier in the film, Costain has to explain to the farmhands what a horse is. The longer Costain’s lesson goes on, the more he dumbs his lessons down while the farmhands stare slackjawed at him. None of them can figure out how to ride the thing, falling all over themselves and laughing like hyenas while Costain gets more and more frustrated. It just keep snowballing.

Eventually, Costain gets so irritated that he gives up, decrying that the indigenous Hawaiians are too childlike and undisciplined to ever make good cattle drivers. This is portrayed as a good attitude to have. He brings up a few salient points, like their lack of horses, equipment, and protective clothes, but he’s such a jerk about it that I’m already over it. Henrietta knows they just need a big strong white man to lead them, and she just knows they can do the rest themselves. Oh, and they’re supposed to have romantic tension but mostly I just want to deck him for steamrollering over everything she says.

If Henrietta is going to get horses for her employees, she’s going to need money. To do that, she mortgages the farm, even as Bryson begs her to just marry him instead of going through this whole song and dance. Once she’s gone, Bryson’s henchman Marruja teases him for always sticking his neck out for her. I’m starting to think this guy might not be on the level. Meanwhile, the farmhands are still too busy goofing off to learn how to be farmhands. The fun’s over when a spear lands squarely at Costain’s feet. A disgruntled farmhand named Malakoma takes issue with Costain trampling over their traditions and livelihood. Buuut white makes right in this movie, so Costain beats him in a spear fight, socks him in the face, and banishes him from the farm.

After a cut so abrupt I didn’t realize they’d changed scene, Booton announces the arrival of the horses by shrieking his head off. Now they can move on to the next lesson! It goes as poorly as the first. The farmhands can’t figure out how to get the saddle on the right way around. Even Booton can’t manage it, getting so frustrated that he stomps off in frustration. Costain’s advice about never quitting here is actually pretty good but I’m still mad at him. But sure enough, with enough persistence, the farmhands graduate to riding in circles and swinging lassoes. There’s still a lot of dumb slapstick but they figure it out. Mostly.

Bryston comes over to scoff at the spectacle. He doesn’t think this could ever work, and it doesn’t help that he witnesses everyone falling over themselves and lassoing each other. Costain and Bryson take an instant dislike to each other, trading barbs about this whole situation. But as noxious as Bryson is, he does bring up a good point: how are they supposed to get cattle onto ships to sell them on an island with no docks? They receive supplies by longboat here, that’ll never work with cattle. But it’s all right! Costain knows he can do it. We don’t need a how. Who needs a plan when you’re the rugged manly hero?

The next lesson rolls around, but Costain can’t find his farmhands anywhere. He instantly knows they’re goofing off again and sure enough, they’re swimming around a lagoon and having the time of their lives. Costain is furious but only because anyone who can pass up a natural waterslide has never known joy. One of them barrels down that natural waterslide to knock Costain into the water, because… slapstick I guess? It’s not funny of course. That does it. Costain storms home and announces to Henrietta that he’s done. These people are too stupid and lazy to ever learn that his way is better. Henrietta tries to reason with him waltzing in and subjugating an entire island is kind of a jerk move, but he’s too stubborn and manly to even say goodbye to Booton before he leaves. Vera Miles’ acting in this scene is way better than it has any right to be. James Garner is here too.

Booton spends the next morning screaming his lungs out for Costain. Poor Henrietta fights tears as she explains that he’s gone, because he’s a man, and no one ever tells a man to do anything. The gender politics in this movie, ya’ll. Booton lets out a shrill, hysterical tirade about how his new daddy would have stayed for him and I’m starting to miss Kevin Corcoran. The good (?) news is that Costain only got as far as the local bar. He’s decided to get the money for passage to Texas by hustling poker, and wins a cowboy hat in the process. But when he makes for the ship, his farmhands ride up beside him, facing the right way and everything! They all beg him to stay, promising that they’ll work hard and do their best and be model students. He ignores them completely, but when Booton wails back his words about not quitting, he changes his tune. I’m sure it’s supposed to be heartwarming.

True to their word, the farmhands throw themselves into their lessons and actually make improvement. I wish I could say the same for the greenscreen work. There’s one POV shot where a guy wrangles a horse where the camera suddenly gets really grainy out of nowhere and I am astounded that this was allowed to hit theatres. Everyone’s happy, except Bryson. He has to try another tack if he’s going to keep financially squeezing Henrietta until she marries him. So he pays off Malakoma, the disgruntled ex-farmhand from earlier, to sabotage the upcoming cattle round-up at any cost. When I put it like that, he sounds like a proper Disney villain. But he’s not. This movie’s not good enough for that. And he continues to infantilize Malakoma. Awesome.

Liliha interrupts Costain’s next lesson to warn that there’s a cow in the fields! It’s the perfect opportunity for the farmhands to test out everything they’ve learned. It’s good that he’s putting a little more trust into his students, but it’s not good that Liliha’s English is now so broken that she has to resort to crude sign language to make her point. I’m so tired. Off ride the cowpokes to wrangle their first cow, but something’s wrong. When Costain urges a farmhand named Kimo to lasso the cow, he freezes. Blinks. Rocks in the saddle. And then, he falls like a ragdoll to the ground. The rest of the group gathers to check on him, but he’s completely unresponsive.

He doesn’t get better. Even a medical doctor can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. He didn’t break his neck, he’s not in a coma, but he’s unlikely to survive. Henrietta explains the Native Hawaiians’ take on all this: it’s sorcery, cast by Malakoma, who is apparently a witch doctor now despite that concept not really existing in Hawaiian culture as far as I can tell. Costain walks the beach to think it over and finds Liliha singing and praying for her friend’s life. Because he is determinedly terrible, Costain snaps that there’s something wrong with her, because she’s performing a ritual from her own culture and anything that doesn’t exist in Texas is wrong. She sobs that Malakoma will pick off everyone on the farm until he can finally take out Costain, and the only way to stop him is to travel he cave where he lives.

So he does. The cave is actually a really cool set full of indigenous art, which I’m sure is meant to reflect that Malakoma worships heathen gods or something but it looks like an amazing art gallery if you can ignore all the skulls. Like, it’s not even tense to watch Costain duck through all the statues, expecting danger around every corner. I just want to look at this set. But eventually, Malakoma catches him and the two brawl, smashing pieces and using them as weapons. Naturally, Costain wins, and drags Malakoma back to the farm bound and gagged. If he wants to live, he’s going to break the spell over Kimo. And sure enough, self-preservation wins the day. When they arrive to the village, Malakoma waves a hand, revives, Kimo, and disappears from the movie. Henrietta gushes over how amazing Costain is, and how everyone will worship at his feet because he’s rugged, manly, and white. Gag me.

At long last, we jump ahead to the big cattle round up. It’s time to drive them to the farm to wait for the ship that will take them to the mainland for sale. This is everything they’ve all been working for, so Costain gives his men a pep talk while Henrietta and Liliha gaze all gooey-eyed at his rugged manliness. And we ride! True to Henrietta’s word, the farmhands make a vast improvement because they hero-worship Costain now or something. There’s still some slapstick, but they get the cattle rounded up between them and march off to the paddock singing a song along the way. All that’s left to do now is figure out how to get them onto the ship. Herding them onto a raft doesn’t work, but it does give Costain an idea. Cattle can’t swim very well- maybe they can drag them through the water? Hooboy. We’re just pushing all my buttons today aren’t we?

Naturally, Bryson is furious. No matter how many obstactles he throws at Costain, he just keeps coming out on top! It’s like this is a Disney movie or something. But it doesn’t matter. Bryson wants that farm worse than ever, and Henrietta can’t get rich off cattle she doesn’t have. He orders Marruja and some other guys to ride out and cause a stampede. So, in the dead of another terrible day-for-night shot, they race out and stir the cattle into a frenzy with their guns. Costain hears the frenzy and ushers the villagers to safety, then rides out to play hero with the farmhands on his heels. But it’s too late. The cattle tear through the village leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. But lest we think there’s anything our rugged manly hero can’t handle, Costain manages to wrangle most of the cattle right back up and trample Marruja on the way.

When we catch up to Bryson, it actually is nighttime! So they can shoot decent night scenes, they just chose not to. Cool. Our villain enters his office to find his henchman tied to a chair looking like he just got trampled by cattle, and his archnemesis pointing a gun in his face. Costain demands Henrietta’s loan agreements be voided because Bryson just did a number on her livelihood. Still trying to play the legitimate businessman, Bryson starts to comply… then suckerpunches Costain. So begins yet another brawl because real manly men solve problems with fists. Of course Costain thoroughly curbstomps him and the farmhands arrive in the nick of time with the cops in tow.

That was a really anticlimactic villain defeat. But who cares? It’s cattle wranglin’ time! The ship arrives to take the cattle away, and the captain can’t wait to see how they pull this off. And I wish I didn’t see how they pull this off. They lasso each steer by the horns, then drag them into the surf until their feet can’t touch. This allows them to tie each struggling cow to their longboats to be dragged to the ship. It takes forever, and the cows are visibly and audibly in distress and it’s all very upsetting. But they did it, and yay Team Good Guys, and everyone’s thrilled with Costain’s awesomeness. Costain decides to stay, finally gets Booton’s name right, and so begins a new era of gross colonialization in the Hawaiian Islands. Yay.

This movie was an unholy amalgamation of flagrant racism, appalling gender politics, and animal abuse the likes of which I thought we’d left behind in the ’50s. I don’t know why I’m still surprised because it’s not like the ’70s have been kind to anyone, but good lord. If I wanted to be beaten with a cudgel of white saviorism and toxic masculinity, I’d watch Swiss Family Robinson. Seriously, how have they not learned yet?

Also, this movie’s just really incompetently made. James’ Garner’s direction seem to be limited to “be James Garner”, and no one else really fares any better. Booton is the most annoying child actor we’ve seen in a while, Bryson has no depth whatsoever, and the less said about the farmhands the better. The cinematography is super awkward, the dialogue is stilted, every scene drags, and it’s really unfocused. No one seems to agree on how to make the premise of whitewashing paniolo culture fill 90 minutes, so we get a mismash of sorcery, found family drama, and slapstick that doesn’t fit together at all. It’s a mess.

CHARACTERS

Lincoln Costain is the epitome of toxic masculinity. He’s used to things going his way, and when they don’t he strongarms the situation until it does. Anything different from his narrow worldview is wrong and bad and the movie consistently rewards this awful narrowmindedness. It’s actually hard to watch. Not only is it a terrible message, but it’s really boring. Everything falls into his lap because he’s the resident white guy, every conflict is solved by a punch to the face, and every other character hero worships him. I know this wasn’t uncommon in films in the 1970s but that’s all there is to this guy. It was incredibly frustrating, and James Garner doesn’t seem to have enjoyed it much either. At least he got some good one liners, I guess?

Henrietta Macavoy is more or less the same character Vera Miles always plays. She’s the slightly-jaded, no nonsense widow/wife type character who tries her best to talk sense into her stubborn, testosterone-poisoned man. Unfortunately, Henrietta has a lot less success than even Doris McIver from One Little Indian, who if you read that one was barely even in the movie. It’s frustrating because she brings up some good points about meeting the farmhands halfway and reminding Costain that Hwaiian culture is not and never will be Texan culture. The movie just insists that she’s wrong and naive while simultaneously showing her as competent and savvy in scenes with the white guys (case in point: haggling with the captain). I mistakenly said Follow Me Boys was Vera Miles’ last Disney role, but it’s not. The poor woman has to go out on this sour note.

Booton Macavoy is supposed to have this found family thing going on with Costain, but it falls flat for a few reasons. One, Costain pretty much dismisses him out of hand because affection isn’t Super Manly. Two, he disappears from the last third of the movie. And three, the first shot of the movie establishes that the farmhands, especially Kimo, take care of him and teach him how to fish, but only Costain can be his daddy. It’s yet another symptom of the racism that permeates every frame of this movie and I’m really over it. I feel like he would have been played by Kevin Corcoran had this movie come out twenty years earlier. Eric Shea (brother of Christopher Shea from Smith!) screams every. single. line. to the point where I was getting flashbacks to Francis from Swiss Family Robinson shrieking “it’s my tiger!” every thirty seconds. This has to be a directing choice because almost every kid actor they cast does it, but I can’t fathom why they thought it was cute.

Calvin Bryson has all the makings of a classic Disney villain, executed so poorly that it still somehow manages to be boring. He’ll stop at nothing to achieve his goals of aquiring Henrietta’s land and becoming rich. He starts off sneaky about it and gets more and more desperate and unhinged as Costain overcomes his stabotage attempts. Done well, this could have been a live action counterpart to someone like Ratigan or Hades. It’s just… not. Robert Culp might be great in I Spy or The Greatest American Hero, but he plays this role with literally zero charisma.

MUSIC

Once again, we have a terrible movie that scores a few points for its decent score. Throughout the film, especially on the cattle drive sequences and in the opening credits, we hear traditional Western melodies played on Hawaiian instruments. Unfortunately I can’t find a video to show off exactly what I mean ,but this cover is close. It’s not Robert F Brunner’s best score but blends the two cultures much more successfully than the plot does.

Come-A-Ki-Yi-Yi-Yippee-Yippee-Yay feels shoehorned in. Back in the ’50s, Westerns always had a campfire song, so this one should too. Right? Yeah, it’s abundantly clear that the company was completely lost and scrambling for scraps of things that worked during Walt’s time. Even James Garner doesn’t entirely look or sound like he knows why he’s singing, though he does a pretty good job anyway.

ARTISTRY

James Garner wasn’t wrong when he called the visuals the best part of this movie. When Kauai’s natural beauty is allowed to shine, it’s gorgeous. Unfortunately, cinematographer Andrew Jackson likes to cover it with a day-for night filter. And it’s really, really bad. You can clearly see the sun gleaming on the water and the actors squinting in the bright light, even as they read lines about how late it is. It’s embarrassing and there’s really no reason for it. I do really like the interiors, though, especially, as I mentioned Malakoma’s cave. At least someone did their research.

FINAL THOUGHTS

It is astounding to me that this studio has been putting out movies that are the exact same flavor of bad for close to twenty five years now. I don’t expect race and gender stuff to align with 2022 standards, but I would have hoped that they would have improved since the 1950s and they haven’t. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed just how badly Disney floundered in the 1970s, but it’s really getting painfully obvious. Emphasis on painful. American culture’s fascination with the Polynesian islands in the 70s may have bordered on fetishistic but I hoped for a little more respect than treating them like stupid children- a comparison that the script itself makes a few times!

Favorite scene: Walking through Malakoma’s cave and seeing the shields and statues. I could do without the skulls (or the endless silent fight scene after) but the artwork in this scene is lovely.

Final rating: 1/10. And for those keeping score at home, that makes two movies in a row that got a 1!