Michael Horse & Klinton Spillbury
More than a year ago I was at the Autry’s Annual
American Indian Marketplace,
where I met artist, actor and musician Michael Horse. He’d starred on David Lynch’s cult TV series
TWIN PEAKS, as Dep. Tommy ‘Hawk’ Hill, but first gained fame playing Tonto in the
infamous THE LEGEND OF THE LONE RANGER (1981).
(That’s the one that caused an uproar before they even rolled camera,
when the producers forced former Lone Ranger Clayton Moore to stop wearing his
mask. They went on to cast virtual non-actor
Klinton Spillsbury as LR, and continued downhill from there.)
While Spillsbury never acted
onscreen again, Michael Horse has had a long, successful acting career on big-screen
and small, worked extensively as a voice actor, a stuntman, and as both a
graphic and jewelry artist. When the
more recent infamous LONE RANGER came out, responding to Johnny Depp’s
headgear, Horse Facebooked a picture of himself with a chicken on his
head. When we met, he was very excited
to have just guested on an episode of HELL ON WHEELS, where he actually wore a
bird on his head.
Michael Horse at the Autry
Time flies! When we did this interview, there was talk of
a possible revival of TWIN PEAKS. Now
the show is in pre-production, and Michael Horse is back as Deputy Hawk.
HENRY: Playing
Tonto is a pretty big way to start an acting career.
MICHAEL: Yuh, went right into a huge movie.
H: Was that your first acting role?
M: No, I did
a couple of MARCUS WELBYs. I was a
musician with Universal Records, and once in a while they’d throw me something,
but I never wanted to be an actor. I
still don’t know if I am. Recently I was
working on something, and the guy goes, “Give me this look.” I go, “Look, I’ve got two looks: I’ve got
this way and this way. I can give ‘em both
to you all day long, but that’s about the extent of what you’re gonna get from
me.” Olivier I ain’t.
H: As a
musician, what do you play?
M: I was a
fiddle and bass player. I did a lot of
bluegrass and rock & roll for years, and just got tired of it. It sounds very glamorous, but you’re doing
these big tours and staying in Holiday
Inn, and we used to travel by bus – and we’re not talking the buses they
have now, we’re talking by bus. It was pretty hard traveling. We didn’t have a lot of electricity when I
was a kid, so everybody played music; we entertained ourselves. When I was growing up everybody in my family
played something. I am an artist; I’m a jeweler, a painter. That’s what I do.
Counting Coup - Ledger Art by Michael Horse
H: I know you
grew up near Tucson.
M: Yes, on
the Yaqui reservation.
H: What was
your childhood like?
M: It was
wonderful. It was hot, not a lot of
amenities. But I went out and played in the
desert. We had goats and horses and
mules. It was nice; it was my
playground. We moved to Los Angeles when
I was about ten. We’d go back and forth. My grandpa had moved there a long time before
us to get a job at Lockheed; they had a relocation program. So I would go back and forth from Arizona to
Los Angeles as a kid. I grew up in the
San Fernando Valley, in the Sunland Tujunga area. My stepdad was an outfitter, took people on
hunting guides. We had a little ranch
there; it was a great place to grow up.
There were bears up there, and you could fish. They built the Hanson Dam. Los Angeles has the biggest urban Indian population
in the United States, especially in the Burbank area. So there were powwows there. I grew up in kind of an inter-tribal
culture. That’s why I know a lot about Plains
people. I grew up with a lot of Lakota,
Cheyenne and Comanche people. I bought
my first house in Topanga Canyon in 1974 for $35,000 bucks cash – it was a
shack, but had an ocean view. I couldn’t
get a p.o. box down there for that kind of money now.
H: What were
you doing when you were asked if you wanted to play Tonto?
M: I was just
renting my art studio from an agent. She
said they’re casting a big movie; they’re doing THE LONE RANGER and looking for
someone to play Tonto. Are you interested? I said no. She said that’s too bad because
they’ll pay a lot of money. And she
quoted a figure at me, and I went, “Oh, Kemosabe!” I looked up (director William) Fraker, and he
had shot some of my favorite films.
H: Not a very
experienced director then, but a great cinematographer – ROSEMARY’S BABY, PAINT
YOUR WAGON, BULLITT, and later TOMBSTONE.
M: I went down to talk to Mr. Fraker; I didn’t think
they’d hire me. I said you send Tonto to
town one time, you’ll have more Indians on your lawn than Custer saw. And Bill Fraker, who I really admired, kind of
talked me into doing it. The only thing,
I said I never wanted to hear the words ‘faithful companion’ ever. But it was a hoot for me. And I had family in New Mexico, and I’d gone to
the Union Art Institute, so we were
filming in my home town, Santa Fe area and around Monument Valley, so it was a
blast. But it was not well-written. And
the casting was really wrong.
H: Klinton
Spillsbury?
M: Yeah, they
knew that (was wrong) right into the picture.
They should have let him go, and got somebody else. James Keach had to dub his whole voice in.
H: The budget
was $18 million, which was a lot of money in 1981. And Lazlo Kovacs did a beautiful job shooting
it.
M:
Beautifully shot, just badly cast and badly written. It was so funny making THE LONE RANGER. I said, I don’t care how much money these
people have. I don’t care where they’re
filming it: we’re going to end up at Vasquez Rocks. And then at the last minute we had to shoot
some stuff out there. That’s where I did
most of my commercials and most of my stunts, most of my horseback stuff, and I
chased so many people around those rocks.
H: Did you
have a sense while it was shooting, did you think it was going to be a hit, or
were you worried?
M: I was just
hoping that I could show my face at a powwow again! (laughs) Please, please get me out of here alive! I mean, I was on the box of Cheerios. I’m thinking, I’m an old American Indian
Movement member. Oh God, what have I
done here? A lot of my friends said
look, you can do some stuff here. I
lobbied for the Indian Child Welfare Bill, I went to D.C., I did a lot of stuff
for both reservation and inner city kids, so it worked out okay for me. I
escaped, and actually had a career from it.
H: And you’re
good in it.
M: I did
okay! They were worried about me,
because I was telling them, you can’t do this, you can’t do that. But (Spillsbury) was so bad he screwed up
before I could do anything wrong. It had
potential, but I think, especially after the Johnny Depp thing, none of us
Indian people ever have to see Tonto again.
I think he’s put away for a long time.
H: A young
man named Patrick Montoya played the young Tonto, but I’ve never seen him in
anything again. Do you know what ever
happened to him?
Sketch by master poster-artist Drew Struzman
M: Oh yeah, I
see him. He lives in Santa Fe, he comes
up once in a while. I think he has a
print shop. They still call him Tonto. It was fun to do. Made some good friends, Mr. Fraker and I
became good friends. Ted Flicker played
Buffalo Bill; we became really good friends.
He created improvisational theatre.
He wrote BARNEY MILLER. He moved
to Santa Fe and became a sculptor. He
would tell me stories about making films in the old days. He and Fraker were friends, so he gave him a
part. And he told Fraker look, this is
not well-written. Why don’t you let me
re-write it? But Fraker didn’t want to
rock the boat. I was lucky to have it,
and lucky to escape from it! (laughs). Not
a very good film. I wasn’t even really
an actor. I just wanted to do okay. But I thought, one day they’re going to do a really
good one, and I’ll be known as the guy who did the crummy one my whole
life.
H: Flash-forward to 2013.
M: And the Creator went, “I’m going to make this one worse than the one you did!” I’m a huge Johnny Depp fan. But something went wrong – I don’t know what
it was. The jokes weren’t funny; the
story wasn’t all that good; the special effects looked all digitized. The Lone Ranger is an icon you don’t really
want to mess with. Just because you want
to make Tonto a more interesting character, you don’t want to dumb down the
Lone Ranger. I think that was a mistake.
H: That’s well
put, and that’s exactly what they did.
They made him foolish, to make Tonto more important.
M: And even
though Jay Silverheels had some of that stilted dialogue, he still was such a
dignified man that it shined through.
You know, that was one of the few real native people we had seen as kids
in the fifties.
H: I was
doing an interview with Dawn Moore, Clayton Moore’s daughter. She was talking about how people forget that
when they started doing THE LONE RANGER series, it was Jay who was the star,
who had been in KEY LARGO and lots of big movies, while Clayton Moore had just been
playing heavies and doing Republic serials.
M: I knew Jay.
I loved him dearly. He had an acting
workshop that was for native people.
That’s how I knew about KEY LARGO and all that stuff. I knew Jay and really liked him. He was in the Motion Picture Hospital when they
said they were going to remake it. He
asked, who’s going to play me? They said
Michael Horse, and he laughed! He
thought that was very funny. Later I met
Mr. Moore – I was at one of the rodeos, and I went up and introduced myself – (this
was) after we had done THE LONE RANGER.
I said, “I’m really sorry, sir, for what they did. You’ll always be the Lone Ranger to me, and
long may you ride.” He said, “How
sweet,” and we had a picture taken together.
I said, how come they didn’t use you? And he said, “Well, I asked them for some
money. I didn’t ask them for an
outrageous amount of money, but look, you’re going to kind of retire me. I want a cameo and I want some money.” And
they just put them out to pasture. He
approached them with this idea. “Look, I’m
getting ready to retire as the Lone Ranger, and I find this kid that’s who’s on
the fence between right and wrong. And
when I think he’s going in the right direction, I’ll turn my back to the
audience, and I’ll hand him the mask.” And
I went, and they didn’t go for that?
They’re idiots: it would have been an iconic, chilling moment!
H:
Absolutely; they needed to make that connection. When I re-ran your movie, there was the role
of the newspaper editor, and I thought it would be a perfect role to give
Clayton Moore as a cameo. And of course
it was John Hart, the man who replaced Clayton Moore for a year on the TV
series when he wanted a raise.
M: Clayton
Moore had been such a role model all those years. Even in the police department, they used to
teach the Lone Ranger rules – you never shoot to kill unless you have to. A lot of those old westerns, when you go back
and look at them, they had a certain ethic to them. They meant well.
Michael Horse with bird headpiece
H: Let’s talk a little about your appearance on HELL
ON WHEELS. About the headpiece, was that
a comment to Johnny Depp?
M: No, it
wasn’t. The lady who did it, she went
through a lot of books on the Comanche.
And there were a lot of people who wore birds: we just didn’t wear them
that big. And when he wears something like that, that’s
a piece of medicine. That’s something to
be respected.
H: You seem very happy to be associated with the
show.
M: Well, it’s so well written, number one; it’s
well-acted, and it’s historically interesting.
The railroads were one of the first of the big corporations that started
pushing everybody around. Especially indigenous people. If you know anything about herd animals, if
you put anything in their way, not just a fence, anything, they’re almost
autistic. The railroad actually changed
the migrations of the buffalo and elk.
And then from the east came this big piece of iron that was smoking and
making noise, and people were killing animals just for the sake of killing. To the Plains people it must have been the
Devil incarnate. I do this kind of
artwork like you saw at the Autry, like the Ledger art. I was painting something from the same week
as The Battle of Little Bighorn. And I
realized from all these periodicals that I read that when that happened, in the
east the Civil War had been over for four years; the Brooklyn Bridge was built;
the first baseball game between Kansas City and Missouri had been played; Edison
was showing the first light-bulb at a symposium. But that’s how wild it still was in Montana
and Wyoming and Colorado. And the Plains
people had no idea what was coming their way.
H: Then it
came, and it was Hell on wheels.
M: And the
Comanche, they were pretty bad boys.
There’s a book out on the Comanches, and I have a lot of Comanche
friends. And I said, “You guys were
pretty bad.” And they said, “Yeah, but
basically we just said, ‘Don’t come here.’”
That’s why the Mexican government allowed a lot of the migration into
Texas: they figured it would be a buffer between them and the Comanche. Some of the finer flight cavalry to ever exist
were the Comanche people. There’s one
piece that I’ve always wanted to do.
They’ve always done Sitting Bull’s story; they’ve done Crazy Horse’s
story. But they haven’t done the story
of Quanah Parker, which is a really interesting piece. I did a one-man play last year, down in
Buffalo Gap, Texas, about Quanah, and he was an amazing man, a person that
lived in two worlds like me, a person of mixed blood, and understood both
worlds, and how they had to come together.
Actually a pretty wise man for the Comanches when they finally decided
to come to the reservation. He made some
pretty interesting deals with the United States government.
H: Yes he
did. It would have helped if the
government had been a little better at keeping those deals.
M: Well, all
governments do that; not just ours. I
liked back in the ‘60s, when all these young people were going, ‘The government
lies,’ and all us indigenous people were saying, ‘No kidding?’
H: News
flash!
M: What an
epiphany that is! The railroads, it made
this country, connected this country.
Ran goods from point to point – that’s what actually made the whole
money-machine of this country work; the railroad. It was a pretty grand scheme. But a lot of times progress rolls over the
people that live on the land. Not just
the indigenous people, but ranchers and farmers. It’s kind of the same thing that’s happening
now, with the energy needs. It’s what
makes the engine run, but it’s kind of screwing up a lot of ranchers and
farmers and indigenous people.
H: Who’d have
guessed they’d all end up on the same side?
M: Yuh, it
happens. And that Swedish villain on
HELL ON WHEELS, that’s one of the greatest villains I’ve ever seen on TV!
H: Oh man,
isn’t he fun!?
M: I met him
recently; he’s a very sweet man.
H: He’s like
a train with no brakes and no tracks – you just don’t know where he’s going!
M: Well, I
imagine there were probably a lot of people like that back then. It was pretty open; you could do pretty much
whatever you wanted to do back then.
H: And of
course, in the Indian Territories, once you got there, there was nothing much
the government could do about it.
M: No. But they gave the railroads a hundred acres
of land on both sides of the (tracks) that they could do whatever they wanted
to with them; they could sell it, they could develop it. It’s really good to see that – like I said, I’m
a big fan of Westerns. I grew up with
Westerns; I think they’re going to come back.
It’s just how they’re written.
But TV’s doing these small, little mini-series, with big stars that
don’t really want to commit to a full series.
Doing nine-episode things like TRUE DETECTIVES was brilliant, it was
really good. FARGO was freakin’
hysterical. Cable’s really allowed for
some really fine television. Last year
they did a seminar at USC about how TWIN PEAKS changed television. And what it did was, it showed people that
anything was possible on television. It
opened all kinds of doors, and changed formats.
It had pretty-much been a formula kind of thing until that went, and
people went, ‘Oh, you can do anything.’
H: I think
all of the miniseries, and shows like HELL ON WHEELS, which they don’t call a
miniseries, but it’s a continuing story; none of them would have happened, none
of them would have been the same without David Lynch being ahead of them.
M: He opened
that door, and said there’s huge audiences for different things. It’s really funny; there’s a lot of young
kids who are seeing it now on the internet.
So it’s more popular than it ever was.
We live in the Berkeley area, and I’ll be going to the movies, and my
wife goes, “Those kids are following you.”
Usually young film students. I’ll
go, “Can I help you?” They’ll go, “Are
you Deputy Hawk?” “Yuh.” And then they go crazy. My wife thinks it’s hysterical.
H: What was David
Lynch like to work with?
As Deputy Hawk
M: David is
the sweetest man, such a sweet man. He’s
like Jimmy Stewart with Salvador Dali’s intestines. He’ll go, “That was really keen, whatcha did! But this time, could you get naked, and bark
like a dog?” David is an artist. Both as an indigenous activist, a native
activist, and as an actor you don’t get a chance to do art in television that
often; and TWIN PEAKS was art. And that
was a wonderful native character. It got
rid of stereotypes, and held some mirrors up to the others, you know. I’m still looking. I’ve been turning down a bunch of stuff, but there’s
a couple of scripts out there that I’m getting ready to do. And I’ve been doing all these student films. It’s nice in my career that I can afford to
do this. These film students will get in
touch with my wife. I don’t get on the
internet – I’m such a Luddite, I just learned there’s a redial button on my
phone. My wife’ll go, “This film student
is looking for you.” They won’t go to my
agent, because he won’t return their call, because they don’t have any money. I’ve done three or four of these little films
for these kids. And it reminds me that
filmmaking is art. It’s been very nice.
H: I know you
did some stunt work.
M: I used to
be around horses. I did a little stint
at rodeo riding; wasn’t very good at it.
The first time somebody paid me to fall off a horse I said, “I can do
that!” Staying on’s the hard part. Then we started the Native American Stunt
Association. We didn’t get the work we thought we were gonna get. I dabbled in it, did a lot of fight stuff,
and it was fun. Did some stuff in
PASSENGER 57 with Wesley Snipes.
H: You acted
in a few WALKER, TEXAS RANGERS.
M: And God bless Chuck (Norris), I love him, I knew
him for years, and friends ask why do you WALKER? I said it’s so bad, I can’t suck. But there are some wonderful scripts out
there. Some guy sent me a script from
Washington State about a little native kid in the 1950s who worships Elvis, and
wants to win a talent contest. It is so
sweet and so well done I told them I’d do it for free. But working on HELL ON WHEELS, that’s a class
act. The series I did in Canada, it was
on for seven years, I did three years of it, called NORTH OF 60. It was strictly for Canadian television. It was so well done, so well written – some
of it written by native people, directed by native people. It had all these great native actors, Gordon
Tootoosis, Tantoo Cardinal, and Graham Greene.
I was one of only two Indian people from the States ever to be on
it. It was a joy to do. It was contemporary, about people who live
way above the 60 parallel. I play a
therapist and a bush pilot. I’m hoping
to squeeze out a couple of things before I retire. I’ve done three or four of these little
sci-fi films, but I’m not going to do anymore because it’s the same thing. My wife laughs, the last one, “You’re the
holy man, you’re inside by the fire, with these two beautiful girls bringing
you food.” I go, “Yeah, I’m not going
outside – the monster’s outside!”
H: In 1982
you were the star of THE AVENGING, and I’m sorry it’s not better known, because
it’s a very impressive independent film.
How did this project come about?
M: They just
got in touch with me, I said send me the script. It wasn’t a lot of money, and I’d just
finished the LONE RANGER, and I said I’d do it, I like this.
H: And you
got to work with Ephrem Zimbalist Jr.
M: Yeah, we
became pretty tight too. I love working
with these old guys, and make them tell me stories. Wranglers are the best – they’ll tell you
everything. My favorite thing to do is I
do cartoon voices. It’s all those people
who used to make gas-noises and got sent to the principal’s office. It’s all old stand-up comics, and guys who
used to have imaginary friends.
H: What is
your favorite of the voices you’ve done?
M: It’s
probably SPIRIT: STALLION OF THE CIMARRON (2002), the horse. I’m fifty voices in that, even the old Indian
woman; she didn’t show up. “I’ll do my
very best.” I’m such a fan of
animation. And usually you record and
then they do the animation. But we were
watching them as they were making it, so there were drawings that moved, and
half-painted things. It’s almost a
classic old Disney kind of piece. There
was a series I did for a while called COWBOYS OF MOO MESA. I played this buffalo called J.R. He was a Rube Goldberg kind of guy; he used
to make all these inventions. I just
loved him.
H: In 1990 you starred in BORDER SHOOTOUT for Ted
Turner’s TURNER PRODUCTIONS. It’s
adapted from an Elmore Leonard novel.
M: That was
fun too. Elmore Leonard – I didn’t
realize until the last five years that he wrote HOMBRE, one of my favorite
movies. Just (Paul) Newman sitting in
the bar listening to those two rednecks hassling those two native guys. Him and Richard Boone, just amazing. That was an interesting little film. And working with Glenn Ford.
H: On his
last Western, too.
M: It took
him a little while to get ready. One of
these young kids was complaining. We’re
working in the middle of the night, and it’s freezing. Finally they get him outside and the kid
said, “You had me waiting outside for him!”
And I said, “It’s Glenn Ford. I’ll
wait as long as it takes.”
H: What was
he like to work with?
M: I was in
awe. I liked the character actors,
too. I used to go to the Beverly Garland
Hotel, have breakfast with Monte Hale, and he would tell me stories about the
old days. Same with the old
fiddle-players. I’d say, I’ll buy all
your drinks, just tell me about the old days – I’m fascinated by it.
H: In BORDER SHOOTOUT, you also worked with Michael
Ansara. Although he was from Syria, he
spent much of his career playing American Indians. A number of non-Indian actors have
specialized in Indian roles – in addition to Ansara, X. Brands and Iron Eyes
Cody.
M: A lot of them.
Ricardo Montalban, Sal Mineo.
H: Any problems with that?
M: You know,
the process of acting is to portray something that you’re not. But if you’re doing a cultural piece, and you
don’t bring somebody who comes with that culture, you’re going to cheat
yourself. I’ve talked to casting people,
and they’ll say, we’ve seen a hundred guys, and they’re not doing what we want
them to do. And I said, if you’ve seen a
hundred Indian guys, and they’re not doing this, maybe they don’t do that. Will Sampson was more interesting just
standing there, not saying anything, than all the non-native actors that ever
played anybody. And there were
exceptions. Paul Newman nailed it. Charles Bronson used to come pretty
close. A really good actor can do
it. But the native guys, the full-blood
guys don’t get a chance to play anything else.
But it’s changing. Digital film
has put it back in the hands of filmmakers.
There are a lot of native filmmakers that are making films out
there. And they don’t need Hollywood,
they don’t need big money, they don’t need the big stars. And there are wonderful, wonderful films.
H: What’s
your favorite film?
M: LITTLE BIG
MAN. That was the first time I saw one of
those funny old elders that I grew up with (on the screen). Those little people are just so funny, and
Chief Dan George was just magic. “Am I
still in this world?” “Yes, grandpa.” “Ahhh!”
Dustin Hoffman tells him, “I have a white wife.” “Does she show enthusiasm when you mount
her?”
I really know how you make a bad
movie, but I’m really trying to figure out how you make a good movie.
THAT’S A WRAP!
Just one topic this week, so I hope you enjoyed
it!
Happy Trails,
Henry
All Original Contents Copyright August 2015 by Henry
C. Parke – All Rights Reserved