I caught a weird documentary on the rise and fall of Girls Gone Wild. I only knew the commercials and thought, "oh yeah, that 90s/00s video series where drunk college girls flash their breasts." Turns out that it was a far darker scene than I ever imagined.
Maybe there's a doc series that will make sense of the present which we can catch in 2037.
I just completed binge-watching the entire run of The Lone Ranger (1949-57). Well, O.K., not the entire run. I tried to give the third season, the one with John Hart playing the Masked Man, a fair shot. But I could get through only six or seven episodes before I couldn't take any more.
The fog of time has obscured the reason that Jack Wrather replaced Clayton Moore with Mr. Hart. One reason proffered is that Mr. Moore wanted more money. Another is that John Hart was willing to work cheaper. In his autobiography, Moore claims to not know why he was replaced in the third season. But one thing is clear: Mr. Wrather evidently believed that what made the show popular was the mask and outfit and name "Lone Ranger", and that it didn't matter what actor was behind the mask. He was so sure that actors playing the Lone Ranger were interchangable that, in the John Hart season, the show didn't change the opening sequence showing Clayton Moore riding Silver and firing his six-gun.
As we all know, Mr. Wrather was wrong. It took more than a mask and a white horse to make a believable Lone Ranger.
I watched the show as a youngster, of course. But his last couple of months was my first chance to view the series through its evolution and from the perspective of an experienced, mature adult. I did my level best to avoid hero worship, and I believe I was objective.
First and foremost, it was obvious that Clayton Moore was born to be the Lone Ranger. The biggest complaint about John Hart in the rôle is that he was too wooden. It's true, and that description applies not just to his ability to emote, but to his movements on stage. One of Moore's qualities that gets taken for granted is how smoothly and athletically he moved. At the age of eight, Moore worked as a circus acrobat, and by the time of his twenties, he had become a trapeze artist. That agility informed his movements as the Masked Man.
But given that, the thing which made Clayton Moore most successful as the Ranger was a quality in his acting that was natural, something that can't be taught. And that was his delivery of his lines. Often, it was the same kind of overblown dialogue given to Christopher Reeve in the Superman films. But Mr. Reeve's recital of the lines came too near parody and made him sound like a road-company Dudley DoRight. On the other hand, Clayton Moore delivered his dialogue with a natural earnestness and sincerity. You knew he believed what he was saying, and he didn't sound preachy or over the top. I can't think of another actor who could deliver a line like "Yes, Tonto. He's endangered the reliability and integrity of the United States government postal service," ("Gold Fever", 13 April 1950) and come across as believable. It's no wonder that kids of the day took his lessons to heart.
True, the episodes contained quite a few "morality lessons", but they never came across as poke-in-the-eye obvious as those from late '60's-early '70's Saturday-morning television. The Lone Ranger believed in fair treatment of all, racial equality, women suffrage, and that all men should be judged on the quality of their character. But he wasn't naïve or idealistic about it. He was well aware that men often fell short of ideals and allowed for it. While he'd state his beliefs, he didn't preach; he taught by example.
Most important, none of these "lessons" detracted from the plots, which were remarkably varied. True, in eight years, there was some duplication, but for the most part, the plots were individual and interesting. And, yes, there were some set-pieces. One was a character's reaction to the Ranger's mask---"If you aren't an outlaw, why do you wear a mask?"--and the Ranger always found a way to parry the comment. I had to chuckle at one episode, some two seasons into the show's run, when, once again, he was asked why a law-abiding man would wear a mask, and the Ranger simply smiled and replied, "I hear that a lot."
And, of course, there is the classic closing scene which usually showed the people he and Tonto have helped watching them ride off. One of them would say something like, "He didn't even wait for me to thank him. I don't even know his name." and someone else would reply, "He's the Lone Ranger." The show even had fun with that, putting a lampshade on the classic ending in the episode "Trouble for Tonto" (20 July 1950), in which the Masked Man and Tonto come to the rescue of the son who's come from the East to live with his rancher father. During the adventure, the tenderfoot son learns that he's been saved by the Lone Ranger, and in the ending, as he and his father and the other folks on the town watch the Ranger and Tonto depart, the son says, "Gee, dad, do you know who that masked man was?" The father and the others roll their eyes and exchange knowing smiles, before the father says in mock innocence, "No, son, who is he?" "Couldn't you tell?" replies the boy proudly. "He's the Lone Ranger!"
Now, let's talk about the elephant in the room: Tonto. Virtue-signallers love to dump on The Lone Ranger for what they believe is a denegrating depiction of the Ranger's "faithful Indian companion". They base this on Tonto's imperfect English and a cursory viewing of the show (if they watched it at all). They see Tonto as the Masked Man's lackey, who did little more than ride into town, at the Ranger's insistence, and get beaten up. I challenge those detractors to hold on to that belief after they watch a half-dozen episodes from any time of the Clayton Moore period.
True, in the early seasons, Tonto was kept in the background a bit and he did get hit over the head a few times. But the show took pains to depict him as capable and resourceful as the Ranger himself. He was intelligent and a keen judge of character. Most notably, his friendship with the Ranger was real. Their mutual loyalty and trust and confidence was one of the hallmarks of the series. This is emphasised in the fifth-season episode "The Courage of Tonto" (17 January 1957).
Here, an Indian-hating rancher shoots the chief of a peaceful tribe in the back. The chief's son swears vengeance against all white men and leads his tribe on the warpath. The renegade Indians capture the Lone Ranger and Tonto. It's Tonto who brokes a deal with the chief's son. The chief's son gives the Ranger six hours to track down the man who shot his father and bring him to Indian justice; meanwhile, Tonto will remain the Indians' prisoner. If the Ranger doesn't return by the deadline, Tonto will be killed in forfeit. The Masked Man protests, but Tonto insists, pointing out that, otherwise, a war with the white man will result, with many deaths on both sides.
While the Ranger embarks on his mission, the show often shifts back to Tonto, tied to a stake. The war-intent Indians mock Tonto, telling him that he was foolish to place his trust in a white man, that his masked friend has run out on him. Tonto replies unswervingly, "He will come. Him my friend. Even if he doesn't come, him still my friend."
At the last minute, the Ranger returns with the gulity rancher in tow. The chief's son is so impressed at such an intense friendship and loyalty between a red man and a white man that he allows the Ranger to turn the rancher over to "white man's justice".
Speaking of the fifth and final season, this is when the series really shines. It's the only season filmed in colour, and the show has gone off the sound-stage to film on location. It's an improvement. The writing has changed slightly, too. More attention is given to the Ranger's moral values and he makes a few more speeches about justice and decency. Again, thanks to Clayton Moore's natural sincerity, it doesn't come across as "speechifying". Tonto's part gets expanded in this last season, as well. He gets to deliver more of the nobleness lines. In "Journey to San Carlos" (09 May 1957), the Ranger, Tonto, and some settlers are pinned down by a horde of renegade Indians, violating the peace treaty. Somebody has to go for help, and Tonto steps forward. One of the settlers, Jed WIlkins, who has an intense prejudice against the red man, says, in amazement, "Tonto, you'd risk your own life to save us---to save me? You, an Indian?"
"All men are brothers, Mr. Walker," replies Tonto. "Some have red skin; some have black skin; some have white skin; but we all brothers."
As the written word, I know it sounds preachy and Dudley DoRight-ish, but Jay Silverheels' delivery is earnest and not the least prepossessing. It is something that Tonto truly believes, and he says it with dignity.
It was in this last season, and in scenes like this, that I realised how magnetic a personality Jay Silverheels possessed. Whenever he's the focus of a scene, it's impossible to take him out of hand. Mr. Silverheels was equally as responsible for the success of The Lone Ranger as was Clayton Moore.
Speaking of Tonto, let me conclude with the funniest line in the entire series. In the episode "Sawtelle Saga's End" (24 March 1955), the Ranger and Tonto are on the trail of a gang of stagecoach robbers who are secretly led by a middle-aged woman (portrayed by Frances Bavier, "Aunt Bee" on The Andy Griffith Show). At the end, the Masked Man and Tonto have captured all of the gang, except the lady mastermind and one last henchmen. Our Heroes take them by surprise. The Ranger has a violent, knock-down, drag-out battle with the henchman, while Tonto attempts to restrain the woman. She kicks, gouges, twists, and stamps; it's all Tonto can do to hold on to her. Finally, the Ranger puts down his opponent and says it's time to take these two to jail.
An out-of-breath Tonto replies, "Next time, me take easy job---fight man. You fight woman."
The Good Mrs. Benson is a big fan of shows with bad guys as the star: Breaking Bad, TulsaKing, House of Cards. Her favourite film is The Godfather. And she tries very hard to justify enjoying villains as the heroes. I don't buy it. I don't care how complex, layered, or cleverly written those kind of shows are, I'd rather watch any episode of The Lone Ranger.
Jeff of Earth-J > Commander BensonSeptember 17, 2025 at 5:39pm
I just completed binge-watching the entire run of The Lone Ranger (1949-57).
I did that recently, m'self (as you know). Consequently, every episode you cited above is still fresh in my mind. Last time we talked about the Lone Ranger, I opined that you might have been a bit too hard on John Hart, but you've since convinced me to come around to your way of thinking.
Tonto... did get hit over the head a few times.
A "few times"? Oh, please! The next time I work my way through the series (and I suspect there will be a "next time"), I intent to keep a tally.
Replies
I caught a weird documentary on the rise and fall of Girls Gone Wild. I only knew the commercials and thought, "oh yeah, that 90s/00s video series where drunk college girls flash their breasts." Turns out that it was a far darker scene than I ever imagined.
Maybe there's a doc series that will make sense of the present which we can catch in 2037.
I just completed binge-watching the entire run of The Lone Ranger (1949-57). Well, O.K., not the entire run. I tried to give the third season, the one with John Hart playing the Masked Man, a fair shot. But I could get through only six or seven episodes before I couldn't take any more.
The fog of time has obscured the reason that Jack Wrather replaced Clayton Moore with Mr. Hart. One reason proffered is that Mr. Moore wanted more money. Another is that John Hart was willing to work cheaper. In his autobiography, Moore claims to not know why he was replaced in the third season. But one thing is clear: Mr. Wrather evidently believed that what made the show popular was the mask and outfit and name "Lone Ranger", and that it didn't matter what actor was behind the mask. He was so sure that actors playing the Lone Ranger were interchangable that, in the John Hart season, the show didn't change the opening sequence showing Clayton Moore riding Silver and firing his six-gun.
As we all know, Mr. Wrather was wrong. It took more than a mask and a white horse to make a believable Lone Ranger.
I watched the show as a youngster, of course. But his last couple of months was my first chance to view the series through its evolution and from the perspective of an experienced, mature adult. I did my level best to avoid hero worship, and I believe I was objective.
First and foremost, it was obvious that Clayton Moore was born to be the Lone Ranger. The biggest complaint about John Hart in the rôle is that he was too wooden. It's true, and that description applies not just to his ability to emote, but to his movements on stage. One of Moore's qualities that gets taken for granted is how smoothly and athletically he moved. At the age of eight, Moore worked as a circus acrobat, and by the time of his twenties, he had become a trapeze artist. That agility informed his movements as the Masked Man.
But given that, the thing which made Clayton Moore most successful as the Ranger was a quality in his acting that was natural, something that can't be taught. And that was his delivery of his lines. Often, it was the same kind of overblown dialogue given to Christopher Reeve in the Superman films. But Mr. Reeve's recital of the lines came too near parody and made him sound like a road-company Dudley DoRight. On the other hand, Clayton Moore delivered his dialogue with a natural earnestness and sincerity. You knew he believed what he was saying, and he didn't sound preachy or over the top. I can't think of another actor who could deliver a line like "Yes, Tonto. He's endangered the reliability and integrity of the United States government postal service," ("Gold Fever", 13 April 1950) and come across as believable. It's no wonder that kids of the day took his lessons to heart.
True, the episodes contained quite a few "morality lessons", but they never came across as poke-in-the-eye obvious as those from late '60's-early '70's Saturday-morning television. The Lone Ranger believed in fair treatment of all, racial equality, women suffrage, and that all men should be judged on the quality of their character. But he wasn't naïve or idealistic about it. He was well aware that men often fell short of ideals and allowed for it. While he'd state his beliefs, he didn't preach; he taught by example.
Most important, none of these "lessons" detracted from the plots, which were remarkably varied. True, in eight years, there was some duplication, but for the most part, the plots were individual and interesting. And, yes, there were some set-pieces. One was a character's reaction to the Ranger's mask---"If you aren't an outlaw, why do you wear a mask?"--and the Ranger always found a way to parry the comment. I had to chuckle at one episode, some two seasons into the show's run, when, once again, he was asked why a law-abiding man would wear a mask, and the Ranger simply smiled and replied, "I hear that a lot."
And, of course, there is the classic closing scene which usually showed the people he and Tonto have helped watching them ride off. One of them would say something like, "He didn't even wait for me to thank him. I don't even know his name." and someone else would reply, "He's the Lone Ranger." The show even had fun with that, putting a lampshade on the classic ending in the episode "Trouble for Tonto" (20 July 1950), in which the Masked Man and Tonto come to the rescue of the son who's come from the East to live with his rancher father. During the adventure, the tenderfoot son learns that he's been saved by the Lone Ranger, and in the ending, as he and his father and the other folks on the town watch the Ranger and Tonto depart, the son says, "Gee, dad, do you know who that masked man was?" The father and the others roll their eyes and exchange knowing smiles, before the father says in mock innocence, "No, son, who is he?" "Couldn't you tell?" replies the boy proudly. "He's the Lone Ranger!"
Now, let's talk about the elephant in the room: Tonto. Virtue-signallers love to dump on The Lone Ranger for what they believe is a denegrating depiction of the Ranger's "faithful Indian companion". They base this on Tonto's imperfect English and a cursory viewing of the show (if they watched it at all). They see Tonto as the Masked Man's lackey, who did little more than ride into town, at the Ranger's insistence, and get beaten up. I challenge those detractors to hold on to that belief after they watch a half-dozen episodes from any time of the Clayton Moore period.
True, in the early seasons, Tonto was kept in the background a bit and he did get hit over the head a few times. But the show took pains to depict him as capable and resourceful as the Ranger himself. He was intelligent and a keen judge of character. Most notably, his friendship with the Ranger was real. Their mutual loyalty and trust and confidence was one of the hallmarks of the series. This is emphasised in the fifth-season episode "The Courage of Tonto" (17 January 1957).
Here, an Indian-hating rancher shoots the chief of a peaceful tribe in the back. The chief's son swears vengeance against all white men and leads his tribe on the warpath. The renegade Indians capture the Lone Ranger and Tonto. It's Tonto who brokes a deal with the chief's son. The chief's son gives the Ranger six hours to track down the man who shot his father and bring him to Indian justice; meanwhile, Tonto will remain the Indians' prisoner. If the Ranger doesn't return by the deadline, Tonto will be killed in forfeit. The Masked Man protests, but Tonto insists, pointing out that, otherwise, a war with the white man will result, with many deaths on both sides.
While the Ranger embarks on his mission, the show often shifts back to Tonto, tied to a stake. The war-intent Indians mock Tonto, telling him that he was foolish to place his trust in a white man, that his masked friend has run out on him. Tonto replies unswervingly, "He will come. Him my friend. Even if he doesn't come, him still my friend."
At the last minute, the Ranger returns with the gulity rancher in tow. The chief's son is so impressed at such an intense friendship and loyalty between a red man and a white man that he allows the Ranger to turn the rancher over to "white man's justice".
Speaking of the fifth and final season, this is when the series really shines. It's the only season filmed in colour, and the show has gone off the sound-stage to film on location. It's an improvement. The writing has changed slightly, too. More attention is given to the Ranger's moral values and he makes a few more speeches about justice and decency. Again, thanks to Clayton Moore's natural sincerity, it doesn't come across as "speechifying". Tonto's part gets expanded in this last season, as well. He gets to deliver more of the nobleness lines. In "Journey to San Carlos" (09 May 1957), the Ranger, Tonto, and some settlers are pinned down by a horde of renegade Indians, violating the peace treaty. Somebody has to go for help, and Tonto steps forward. One of the settlers, Jed WIlkins, who has an intense prejudice against the red man, says, in amazement, "Tonto, you'd risk your own life to save us---to save me? You, an Indian?"
"All men are brothers, Mr. Walker," replies Tonto. "Some have red skin; some have black skin; some have white skin; but we all brothers."
As the written word, I know it sounds preachy and Dudley DoRight-ish, but Jay Silverheels' delivery is earnest and not the least prepossessing. It is something that Tonto truly believes, and he says it with dignity.
It was in this last season, and in scenes like this, that I realised how magnetic a personality Jay Silverheels possessed. Whenever he's the focus of a scene, it's impossible to take him out of hand. Mr. Silverheels was equally as responsible for the success of The Lone Ranger as was Clayton Moore.
Speaking of Tonto, let me conclude with the funniest line in the entire series. In the episode "Sawtelle Saga's End" (24 March 1955), the Ranger and Tonto are on the trail of a gang of stagecoach robbers who are secretly led by a middle-aged woman (portrayed by Frances Bavier, "Aunt Bee" on The Andy Griffith Show). At the end, the Masked Man and Tonto have captured all of the gang, except the lady mastermind and one last henchmen. Our Heroes take them by surprise. The Ranger has a violent, knock-down, drag-out battle with the henchman, while Tonto attempts to restrain the woman. She kicks, gouges, twists, and stamps; it's all Tonto can do to hold on to her. Finally, the Ranger puts down his opponent and says it's time to take these two to jail.
An out-of-breath Tonto replies, "Next time, me take easy job---fight man. You fight woman."
The Good Mrs. Benson is a big fan of shows with bad guys as the star: Breaking Bad, Tulsa King, House of Cards. Her favourite film is The Godfather. And she tries very hard to justify enjoying villains as the heroes. I don't buy it. I don't care how complex, layered, or cleverly written those kind of shows are, I'd rather watch any episode of The Lone Ranger.
I just completed binge-watching the entire run of The Lone Ranger (1949-57).
I did that recently, m'self (as you know). Consequently, every episode you cited above is still fresh in my mind. Last time we talked about the Lone Ranger, I opined that you might have been a bit too hard on John Hart, but you've since convinced me to come around to your way of thinking.
Tonto... did get hit over the head a few times.
A "few times"? Oh, please! The next time I work my way through the series (and I suspect there will be a "next time"), I intent to keep a tally.
-
135
-
136
-
137
-
138
-
139
of 139 Next