The late 1960s and early 1970s were a time of great turmoil in the U.S. The younger generation’s opposition to the Vietnam War stirred up a number of social and political movements, some nonviolent, some violent, and the establishment responded to these movements with force. Liberals hoped to affect change in the country, while conservatives despaired that the government wasn’t doing enough to get the situation under control. This unrest, and the fear it bred, was reflected in the rise of vigilante films in the early seventies. Most of these films had a right-wing bent, with the heroes of movies like Death Wish, Dirty Harry and Joe standing up to the criminals and “the freaks.” But who would stand up to the government and protect the peace-loving people from the powers that be?
What made Billy Jack a hit?: Tom Laughlin, a veteran of numerous B-movies and television shows, originated the character of Billy Jack in the 1967 biker movie Born Losers, in which he defended a small town against a dangerous biker gang. But while Born Losers was a straightforward biker flick, Laughlin had other plans for the Billy Jack. 1971’s Billy Jack saw the character transformed into a kind of folk hero, a half-breed outsider who defends the experimental “Freedom School” against the racist, corrupt townspeople who threaten its existence.
Billy Jack is a textbook case of a film that seems to have a political bent but appeals to many different ideologies. In
addition to his efforts to protect the Freedom School, Billy Jack also believes in the sanctity of Native American culture and the importance of protecting animals and the environment. Likewise, the former Green Beret opposes the Vietnam War. Billy Jack is full of political speeches and songs to appeal to this audience. However, it also contains its fair share of ass-kicking for those who are so inclined. Billy Jack doesn’t share the peaceful inclinations of Jean (Delores Taylor, Laughlin’s real-life wife), dean of the Freedom School, and her students. He’s not above administering a beat-down to those who get on his bad side.
But what gives the story universal appeal is that Billy Jack is all about standing up for those who can’t defend themselves. Laughlin, who directs the film under the pseudonym “T.C. Frank” paints the Freedom School students as innocents and the townspeople as irredeemably evil, racist thugs, so it’s hard to imagine anyone on either end of the political spectrum identifying with the villains here. In painting both his supporting characters in such broad strokes, he makes the film a simple good vs. evil story, with the bonus of tapping into the quintessentially American tradition of rooting for the underdog. Billy Jack became the surprise hit of the early 1970s.
What happened?: Like its hero, the film was also a kind of outsider, shot on the cheap and dumped by several distributors before its eventual release. But after the success of Billy Jack, Laughlin was faced with the prospect of following up its surprise box-office returns. The film’s 1974 sequel The Trial of Billy Jack was also a hit, but it soon became clear that Laughlin was a one-trick pony as a director and star. 1977’s Billy Jack Goes to Washington was barely released, and Laughlin soon became a pop-culture footnote.
Does Billy Jack still work?: Nope. For Laughlin, Taylor, and the cast, Billy Jack is clearly a labor of love, but while the scruffiness of the film has a certain charm, this goodwill only carries it so far. For one thing, it’s hard to overlook the stiffness of most of the performances. Laughlin’s work is serviceable, although he doesn’t manage to make Billy Jack much more than a one-dimensional heroic type. Taylor fares worse- called on to be the emotional center of the film, she often seems uncomfortable in front of the camera, and as a result her big speeches don’t hit home. The townspeople are okay in cartoonish roles, but the students’ performances vary widely. For the most part, they’re natural in the scenes that feel improvised, and much less so in the more narrative-based moments.
The inconsistency of the students’ performances is reflective of the strange structure of the film, which alternates loose, almost Altmanesque scenes in the film with hamfisted stabs at drama. Unfortunately, Laughlin isn’t director enough to pull off either type of scene. The narrative scenes are too amateurish- in terms of acting, writing, and directing- to work. The improvised scenes come closer to working, but Laughlin could have used a more judicious editor in these scenes. As they stand, they drag on forever, thereby dulling most of their impact. Either way, there’s no reason for the film to be nearly two hours long, other than the fact that Laughlin was so clearly married to every frame of the film that he couldn’t sacrifice anything. But it could be worse- The Trial of Billy Jack runs almost three hours.
Yet for its multitude of flaws, Billy Jack has an innocence that’s sort of irresistible. What other movie would take several
minutes out of the story to have its hero lecture a gang of toughs on the beauty of Native American culture before he administers an ass-beating? Billy Jack is disillusioned with the state of the modern world- at one point he asks, “In what remote corner of this country- no, entire goddamn planet- is there a place were men really care about one another and really love each other?” Yet the film and its director clearly believe in the ideals on which this country was founded, especially in its final scene, when Billy Jack turns himself in in the interest of bringing his concerns to light at the inevitable trial. Billy Jack isn’t a very good movie, but I’m glad it’s out there. It’s also comforting to know that, even today, Laughlin is still hoping to resurrect his trademark character in the interest of showing us all what he believes is a better way for America.