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thatbanditqueen · 8 months ago

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Come Hell or Come Sundown

A Charro! One-Shot

Summary: It is the summer of 1968 and Elvis finds himself in a New Hollywood, no more production code, just a ratings system with the promise of more sex and violence. This is good, because Elvis is in transition too! He is hot off the set of his TV special and ready to make a gritty western he can be proud of. Things are going well, he's making friends on location in Arizona, but then first they cut some of the violence, and now he's not so sure there is going to be any sex scenes in this movie. What's next, are they going to make him sing to his horse?

Inspired by the cut nude bath scene and the notes in Donna Lewis' diary that there were originally sex scenes scripted in Charro!

A response to the writing prompt: "Cowboy Elvis"

Warnings: References to past sexual harassment, minor drug use implied and kissing.

WC: 13.4K

Thanks to my lovely writing support group @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @lookingforrainbows @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @shakerattlescroll @peskybedtime and to @whositmcwhatsit for alpha-ing most of this. It is been a crazy two months, I won't go into it, but if you are still reading my stuff let me know it.

July 29, 1968

Apacheland Arizona

Ina leaned against the back side of the sound stage listening to the cactus wren sing their sunrise melody for the desert. Off in the brush she saw a lizard scurry away. It was early, but the air was already beginning to heat up and hung there thick with promise. She took a sip of her coffee, savoring the light, sweet taste, her heart full of hopeful anticipation for the sweet day ahead.

She ran her fingers down over her blouse, enjoying the smooth empty feeling underneath where round flesh had been a month ago.

This picture had been the answer to her prayers, a sign that she could still land a part as the love interest role. It was a role she knew well, one she had been playing for ten years in vehicles designed to showcase male stars: John Wayne, Paul Newman, Jerry Lewis, and now Elvis. Ina rarely got a leading role in a picture focused on a couple or a strong female character, but she accepted it was still a good salary and it kept her busy on and off between modeling gigs.

Lately, however, the on and off had been more off, and her agent, Mickey, had started talking about auditioning for roles as older sisters, aunts, and even, gasp, mothers.

But then she got this and bam! She had knocked over her phone with excitement as Mickey described this project as a “modern, gritty western.” She’d even agreed to the nudity, accepting her agent’s advice that this was going to open up even more doors now that the production code was gone and the film industry had a new rating system that allowed for mature content.

The first American western with a sex scene. That’s how Chuck, this director, had pitched his script in their first meeting, while also assuring her it would be tasteful and artistic and mainly shot using her facial expressions. She hadn’t cared, signing anywhere they wanted if it meant staving off cinematic spinsterhood for as long as possible.

And then, after carefully examining every dimple in her bottom that night, Ina had launched into a month-long disciplined regimen of ballet classes, black beauties and one meal a day. Ina took a deep breath and inhaled the earthy, floral aroma of the Arizona desert, letting it fill her with confidence. Her tummy was svelte, her skin glowed with a healthy bronze tan, and she was ready to conquer the shoot ahead. She had a feeling about this picture. A good one.

Hollywood was buzzing about the TV special Elvis had just finished shooting. Apparently it was raw and gritty and unvarnished, just like the script for this film. And Chuck, her director, was the king of the westerns, who had been promoting Charro! in the trade press as Peckinpah meets Leone with more sex appeal and heart.

Ina looked out at the orange glow of the desert sky at sunrise one last time as she stomped out her cigarette butt and murmured to herself with hushed excitement.

“What a glorious start to a glorious day.”

She headed back inside and made her way around the back of the set where she bumped into Elvis’ stunt double and friend, Jerry. Ina grinned, she couldn’t help it, Jerry’s serious eyes and rugged shoulders made her heart skip a beat.

“That was some party last night, huh?”

Jerry looked down, his low chuckle heavy with the weight of words unspoken as they both reflected on the prior evening. Ina was sure she saw an echo of her own desire in the warmth dancing behind Jerry’s blue eyes.

“You should talk, Sandy Koufax. Charlie’s grateful he can still see.”

Ina gulped, covering her mouth.. “ Oh no! Is he really hurt? I felt so bad, I was aiming for his stomach.” Ina said, twirling her hair. “Although I didn’t feel nearly as bad after watching Elvis go after Alan with the whole bucket, intentionally, over and over. He really took it to the next level.”

“Oh, that’s just how the bossman lets off steam.”

“That’s one way to put it. Say, where is the old steam engine, anyway?”

“He just went out front to get some dirt on his clothes.”

Ina raised her eyebrow.

“He wants to make sure he has that real cowboy look.”

“Huh, Elvis Strasberg. Who knew?”

Ina thought of Elvis out rolling around in the dirt and tried not to giggle. This got harder and harder as she looked into Jerry’s eyes, which were also twinkling with amusement.

In a moment of vulnerability Ina decided to let down her guard and step closer, trailing her fingers over Jerry’s upper arm. His muscle flinched slightly under her hand and it made her feel a little flight of butterflies in her tummy.

“Too bad,” she murmured in what she hoped was a sexy, flirtatious voice. “I was beginning to hope maybe you’d have to step in for him today.”

Jerry’s eyes widened for a split second, as he ran his hand through his hair. “Uh, well, as far as I know his scenes today aren’t dangerous at all.”

“That’s what you think.” Ina smiled, walking backwards for a few steps to enjoy the slight blush coloring Jerry’s scruffy cheeks.

She couldn’t be sure, but she felt there was a spark between them, and it made her feel young and giddy. Fifteen years of having her body and self worth surveyed and scrutinized and picked apart had left Ina unsure of her seduction abilities. First it had been photographers and advertising executives, then producers and directors had joined the throng out to shatter her confidence. For some women, the brutality of the business helped them create a calloused, impenetrable outer shell and distorted sense of self worth. For Ina, it had done the opposite, and she frowned as she felt the familiar knot of insecurity tighten in her stomach and vowed not let her self doubt stop her from having fun this time. No, before the end of this shoot she’d get Jerry alone and find out if he was as quiet and soft spoken in bed as he was on set.

Twenty minutes later, Ina was still smiling to herself when she slunk into a chair in make-up and pulled her thick, terry cotton robe tighter around her body.

“Look at you,” Bertie gushed as she toyed with Ina’s long, brown hair. “Excited for the scenes today?”

Ina paused and looked at herself in the mirror, letting out a nervous sigh.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

She awkwardly smiled up at Bertie, and told herself to relax even as her shoulders inadvertently rolled upward and she tugged at the hem of her robe.

“You know five, even three years ago, you would kiss, passionately, then the camera would pan to the bedside table and come back into focus with you smoking. But now, Blow Up, Bonnie & Clyde, the new rating system. It’s a whole new ball game out there. I’m not sure - “

“Oh, you’re gonna be fine.”

Ina looked down and studied the top of her cleavage, she felt strangely ambivalent about the nudity and the sex scenes they were shooting. She was proud that they wanted her to do them, it bolstered her self esteem and made her feel longed for and desired, special. But she couldn’t shake that nagging feeling deep down that she would get on set, bare it all and then have the director and DP exchange hushed whispers before pulling her off and recasting her role. She met her own gaze again in the mirror and tried to squelch her self doubt.

“I know, I know, and it’s all very tasteful. I trust Chuck. Still, I’m the one wearing a see-through robe. All Elvis has to do is take off his cowboy hat before he carries me to the bed. He might be shirtless in the second scene, but for the most part all we’ll see is a little bit of his ear.”

Bertie nodded into big rounds of hair she was smoothing over with oil and pinning into place with bobby pins lodged at the side of her mouth.

“Yeah, well, with most guys I’d be fine just seeing the ear, cuz women’s bodies are just more beautiful. But with Elvis, I kinda wished they’d have him nude too, you know?” She clicked her tongue and winked at Ina in the mirror,

“You should get Betty Friedan on that, it would really be a movement for sex equality. Though I bet he’d give you a private show if you asked him, Bertie. He’s making his way through the crew, two at a time I hear.”

Bertie wiggled her eyebrows into the mirror.

“Yeah, I heard about that, two of the pretty Mexican extras, right? They can have him, I just want to look at him. I don’t think I’d survive if he touched me.” She flipped her long red hair over her shoulder and bit her lip. “I don’t know how you are going to make love to him all day.”

“Oh, well, when it’s work, you sort of detach yourself. I mean, yes, Elvis is very handsome, but he doesn’t really send me, you know? You should have seen him last night with his guys. Like a pack of wild animals.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I think Jerry is the only one who has ever opened a book, or doesn’t eat with his hands.”

Ina tried not to move as she watched Bertha pin another round hair piece in place.

“The stunt double? He sure has that silent type thing going for him.” Bertie squinted her eyes at Ina as she stuck a few more pins in. “Ahhhh, let me guess, that’s the type you go for. Over Elvis. Are you telling me that you wouldn’t, you know, play patty cake with Elvis if he made the move? I thought he always dated his leading lady, maybe those extras are just the appetizer before the main dish..”

Ina sat up, admiring the tower of rolled hair Bertie had constructed on top of her head. Satisfied, she leveled Bertie with a friendly but stern look.

“Things can get sticky when you bed your co-star. And giving in just encourages them. You shoulda seen Jerry Lewis trailing me around off set like a creep. like I owed it to him.”

Ina grimaced, remembering Lewis’ sweaty brow as he had pushed her against the wall of her dressing room and promised that she’d like it, that she didn’t know what she was missing. She shuddered, thinking of him and all the others: the photographers who’d grinded into her as they straddled over her during a photo shoot. The producers who had invited her to an audition and then cornered her alone. She felt sick to her stomach and reached out for the random half drunk bottle of Coke on the vanity in front of her to wash away the bad taste in her mouth.

“You ok, Miss Balin?”

“Please Bertie, call me Ina. After that party last night I think we’re all on a first name basis.”

“Ha, yeah, I guess.” She turned Ina around to finish her make up. “You know, I think you might be the only woman here who doesn’t want to sleep with Elvis.”

“Thank god Elvis seems to be somewhat of a gentleman, because I’m not looking to be another notch on his belt, I’ve worked too hard to stay in this business without a casting couch reputation, and I plan to keep it that way. Plus, with all the bed hopping that happens on location, and then having to run scenes together if things get, you know, weird. Better to keep things professional between us.”

“On the other hand, a lonely stunt man...”

Ina winked, she could feel the giddy excitement bubble up just thinking of Jerry. She tried to stifle it and stay aloof as she spoke.

“A month is a long time, even a lonely stuntman deserves some company.”

A cough interrupted their giggles and the women turned to see Elvis leaning against the doorway, one hand on his belt. He squinted his eyes, looking at them with exaggerated suspicion as he wiped his hand over his forehead leaving a dark streak of dirt above his brow.

“Uh huh, and just what’d I stumble into here, huh? You two look like you are up ta no good, boy, I tell ya what.”

Perfectly lined smoky eyes sat below Elvis’ dirty forehead and more dirt billowed off his trousers as he strode toward the two women, his hands hanging off the top of his corduroy trousers. Bertie shot Ina a cautious glance in the mirror that warned her not to laugh, even as the sides of her lips seemed to hold back a chuckle.

“I’ve seen that look before Iny Niny.” Elvis said. “Right about the moment ya took aim and fired at poor Charlie Hodge, square the eyes.”

“I really didn’t mean to hurt him! Really.” Something about Elvis’ easy charm made it impossible not to smile broadly. “I - we - we’re not up to anything, you. Just chit chat. I was saying how I almost didn’t recognize you when I got here yesterday. On account of that beard you got, Presley.”

“I almost don’t recognize myself, honey.” He paused and looked in the mirror, taking a step closer as he rubbed the dirt into his forehead more. “That’s probably a good thing, maybe this picture actually has a chance to be something.”

Ina sat up as Bertie dusted her with a last round of hair spray and swiveled her chair around to face him.

“Oh, now don’t say that, there’s a reason you’re the star here. I love your movies.”

Ina may not have actually seen them all, but she knew of Elvis’ desire to be in more serious dramas. It was a common topic of conversation in Hollywood when his name came up. Ok, well, one of the common topics. Maybe not as common as his reputation for fucking his costars, she mused to herself, but still, as someone who had even less clout to be picky about projects, she sympathized with that ever present double bind of needing the money, not wanting to be seen as difficult, and yet, also yearning for more creative fulfillment.

Their eyes met and he nodded to himself, pursing his lips, as if he were reading her mind,

“Huh, so you're the one.” He grinned and took his cowboy hat off, running his hand through his hair as he tried to fill the awkward silence. “Well, sorry but I can’t issue you a refund, Iner Niner. All I can promise is that this ‘un will be better than some of the stinkers, I reckon.”

Ina smiled big, thinking of the desert sunrise this morning, all the good omens. “I don’t know if I would ever describe an Elvis film as a stinker. But I do have a good feeling about this film.”

Elvis scratched his beard, a naughty blush lighting up his cheeks as he took in the very sheer negligee peeking out from under her white terry cloth robe.

“Huh, feeling better and better the more I look- I mean listen to you, INy”

Ina felt a chill up her spine as she looked into Elvis’ dancing eyes, lingering on his face with newfound appreciation. There was something about the way the stubbly beard he had grown out for this role accentuated his jawline and made him seem more rugged, more handsome than he had looked when he played the polished romantic lead in his previous films. She felt a flutter of something unfamiliar stir in her belly; she had never been gaga over Elvis before.

And you are not now, she told herself, it’s just the characters and the scenes you know you are shooting today. Besides, he flirts with everyone, why he’d been flirting with you and every woman in the bar last night even when he had one or two extras on his lap.

Elvis arched his eyebrow, and Ina pulled her robe closer with a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, I think you’re gonna be seeing a lot more of me today.” She chuckled. “I was just telling Bertie I remembered when all I had to do to film a sex scene was lead a cowboy into my wigwam, and let the camera cut to smoke coming out of the top. We left the rest to the audience’s imagination.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that one.” Elvis whistled as he plopped into the make-up chair next to her. “Well, don’t worry, we’re only gotta pretend to make love with an audience of a hundred or so crew members watching, so no pressure.”

They laughed nervously, and then one of the production assistants peered around the door and called to Ina that the DP was ready to work out the lighting for her fully nude bath scene. She stood and gave Elvis a friendly pat, smiling inwardly as she looked over her shoulder to see Bertie trying to wipe the dirt off his forehead.

“See you out there in the ring, Presley.”

“Ok,” he smiled.

Ina studied him for another beat, wondering if the way his beard framed his lips made them look even bigger and more luscious, but she couldn’t be sure.

Striding from the building with wardrobe and dressings back to the soundstage, Ina considered how Elvis had managed to meet and completely defy her expectations. She had never seen him at awards shows, premieres or parties, nor ran into him around town or at the studio canteens. Indeed,he had a reputation for keeping to himself in Hollywood. All she knew was the second hand information she got from people who had worked with him and the Hollywood rumor mill. There were so many contradictory descriptions of him that no, she had not known what to expect when she arrived in Arizona and discovered an Elvis she barely recognized under the scruffy beard he’d grown.

When Chuck, the director, had brought her over to introduce them, he had been shy and sweet, sheepishly sticking out his hand with an affected deep “Hullo, I’m Elvis Presley.” But then by the end of the rehearsals yesterday they had become more comfortable with each other. Something about kissing Elvis inbetween jokes she knew he was making to make her feel at ease had broken the ice between them. And he had started in with the nicknames almost immediately, helping to bring her into the camaraderie that had been established with the crew before her arrival.

The run through yesterday had gone well, all jokes aside, and he had shown himself to be respectful and kind, never pushing or trying anything when they were in each other's arms. It’s probably good that he’s sleeping with some of the extras, Ina thought to herself. That way there would be no pent up sexual expectations and she could just focus on being a professional and perhaps even friends with Elvis.

Yes, she could be friends with him. Ina had only been in Apacheland for a little over 24 hours, but she could tell from Elvis’ warmth that they had established a solid rapport and chemistry for their roles. She felt as safe as she could with him as she readied herself for her first nude role on film.

“Today is going to be a good day,” Ina repeated to herself as she opened the door and entered the sound stage.

Ina was walking along the corridor behind the set when she heard Jerry’s voice on the other side of the plywood and hurried to catch him and flirt a little more. But then he said her name and she stopped, listening, as she realized he was speaking with one of Elvis’ other friends. It sounded like Charlie.

“I saw y’all. Why, she had her hands all over you, ya big stud. You really ain’t gonna try to bury the hatchet in that briar patch?”

“Oh, you know how Crazy can be. All I did was apologize to Alma and Flor for blocking the doorway last night and he ‘bout split in two. I ain’t about to try no funny business with his leading lady.”

“But you heard him call her Groucho, said he could barely stand to kiss her with that mustache above her lip. Said she was so manly, you could almost mistake her for one a the cowboy extras in drag. Like a goddamn drag queen who forgot to shave, is what he said.”

Ina felt the blood drain from her face and she began to tremble, tracing her fingers above her smooth upper lip, the one she diligently waxed every two weeks. They might as well have punched her in the gut with a steel two by four. She could almost taste something metallic at the back of her throat, where a lump formed.Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and it took all her willpower to push them back as she stood there paralyzed while Jerry and Charlie chatted away.

“Aw, well he was off his rocker, she isn’t nearly as bad as that dog from continuity he had in his room at NBC, you know, with the big knockers?”

“Nah, I think In-ahhs pretty cute myself. If she’d been pawing my chest I’d be on that like white on rice, man.”

“Heard you like drag queens, Hodges.”

“Aw naw man, see, now that ain’t fair. Sides, that’s Lamar.”

The busy sound of the crew talking and moving around the sound stage echoed up into the lights with Charlie and Jerry’s laughter, but Ina could hardly hear anything except the pounding of her heart through her whole body. Air. She needed air. Ina hurried out a side door, her mind was racing and there was no way she could stomach the idea of filming a sex scene with Elvis now. Jerry and Charlie’s words had fractured the fragile veneer of confidence she had spent the last month building up. Dieting, ballet classes, early nights, slathering her face in cold cream and plunging it in ice first thing in the morning, staying away from alcohol and ice cream. She had worked so hard to get to a place where she had been able to look in the mirror and tell herself she could do this. Now all her self doubt had returned tenfold.

Facing the desert, she lit a cigarette and muttered under her breath, her voice cracking as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Oh god oh god, why did I take this role? Why do I embarrass myself again and again?”

Ina pressed her hand to her throat as she sucked in deeply, willing the nicotine to steady her shaking body. She longed to run off, get in her car, and maybe drive to that bar down the road Bertie had told her about, the one where all the baseball players went.

The very idea of male attention was like a salve, and it helped her slow her breath as she slumped against the warm, concrete wall of the sound stage and looked out at the desert, focusing on the hills in the distance.

It was like looking out at a completely different view than she had faced that morning. The land was now desolate and unforgiving in the July heat, and the jagged peaks of Superstition mountain loomed like a giant, dark fiery sentinel in the sky. Her chest rose and fell with each inhale and exhale of smoke, her fingers trembled as she tried to quell the turmoil churning inside her.

Just when she was sure she couldn’t walk back inside, she smelled a hint of sage in the dust, it filled her nostrils with renewed energy. The wind whispered in her ear that she was stronger than she knew, she had trudged harder paths than this. She could put one foot in front of the other.

The door next to her exploded open and there was the fresh face of the young, blonde PA who had called to her in wardrobe.

“Oh, there you are Miss Balin, we’re ready for you.”

Ina sucked in another drag of her cigarette and took a deep breath. She could do this. Elvis and his entourage were a bunch of childish idiots. Fuck them.

True to his promise, the director, Chuck, kept the set closed for the nude bath scene Ina was shooting first. It was just him, the cinematographer, his assistant, the boom operator, and three female PAs. One to hold the clap board and two to help Ina in and out of the tub. The scene was blocked so the camera only captured her naked from behind with the side of her breast visible as she donned a sheer blue robe lined with black lace. They would run it from the top, then Chuck would run over and tell her how stunning she was and ask for another take as she shivered. It took eleven takes in all before he and the DP were content they had the footage they needed.

Ina reclined in her chair, trying to warm up during the short break before the next scene. She was rehearsing the dialogue as people trickled in to shoot her first love scene with Elvis, and she suddenly became paranoid that other crew members had heard Jerry and Charlie’s story about Elvis’ calling her a drag queen. She sat up and looked around. Suddenly every hushed whisper was about her, every glance her way was filled with pity. She gripped the side of her chair and told herself to get it to-fucking-gether.

The next scene was meant to occur directly after the bath, when her character, Tracy, discovers Elvis’ character, Jess, rummaging around in her bedroom looking for his gun. They would argue, then kiss, then argue more before he carried her to the bed. After that, he would remove her robe and begin to kiss her neck, stop and then put his hat on the bedpost, before the camera moved in for an extreme close up of her face as they made love.

Then they would break the set and set up for the second sex scene that was meant to take place at the end of the film when Jess has been victorious against the band of outlaws and takes her to Mexico with him to start a new life across the border.

Ina squeezed her hand, using her thumb as a metronome as she said her lines. “I must look new to you - toooo you - I MUST look NEW to YOU now.” She had these little games she had learned in acting class to vary the rhythm and emphasis over and over until she was comfortable in the dialogue, in the character, and it rolled off her tongue naturally, without having to think about it.

Elvis' voice rang out high above the buzz of the crew and all the words she had ever known fell out of her head. She felt her sphincter clench up tightly instinctively as if on cue at the sound of his chuckle, and a frown formed on her lips. The air was suddenly ripe with the smell of sweaty bodies and stale coffee and cigarette smoke.

Looking over her shoulder, just the sight of him surrounded by his flunkies made Ina’s stomach sour. A spark of defiance bloomed in her belly at his smug face and she longed now to walk up to Elvis and slap him sharply across the face before telling him off for being such a rotten two-faced charming bastard. But instead she popped another black beauty to fight off the hunger she had sensed growing in her belly and steeled herself to give the performance of a lifetime.

Elvis passed by her chair as she stood, a crooked grin pushing the apples of his cheeks up above his beard.

“Well, might as well get it over with.”

His despondency made Ina bristle. She was completely incapable of stopping the prickly voice that sprang out from her throat.

“We don’t have to shoot these love scenes.”

Elvis paused in his stride toward the set and looked back at Ina, his brow furrowed for a moment before he grinned again, bigger and wider.

“Huh? Course I want to shoot ‘em, love scenes are my specialty.”

Ina narrowed her eyes at his stupid, smirking expression as he glanced around at his friends as they whistled and chimed in with a chorus of stupid affirmations.

“Uh huh.”

“That’s right.“

“On and off the set”

“Well, you seem anxious to, what was it, get this over with?” She said cooly, leveling him with a glare. “So then it must be me. Maybe we could just cut them from the film altogether. CHUUCK?”

Elvis’ face began to scrunch up in a frown as Ina’s voice rang out like a knife, cutting through the chaos of a live shoot. The sound stage had been buzzing with activity as the crew readied the set, but now everyone had stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at the two leads.

Elvis’ eyes zoned in on Ina and his face clouded with concern as his hands tightened against his body in clenched fists.

“Now see here - “ then he paused and took a deep breath, smiling big.

That broad, smooth, movie star beam.

“Aw, now I think we got are wires crossed someplace.That’s jus my ole stage fright talkin’, honey. Gets me ev’ry time like a sonabitch. Didn’t mean nothin’ by it, Iny Tiny, come get over here. I feel very honored to work with you. I been sayin’ all week, haven’t I, Chuck? That I couldn’t wait for Ina to get here, class up this joint’?”

Ina looked at where Chuck stood, hands at his hips as he nodded, a terrified grin plastered on his face.

“That’s right, that’s right. Why, that's what we’ve all been saying, Ina, we couldn’t wait for our Tracy to get here.”

Chuck dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped it over his big, balding head as he spoke slowly, as if talking to a spooked horse. Ina

“I think I know what’s going on, my dear.”

Chuck looked over at Elvis and then put his arm around Ina, guiding her toward her mark.

“You’re nervous. We’ve just spent two hours during the bath scene. And this sort of - um - delicate, shall we say, yes, delicate feminine performance is new to you, isn't it?”

“Well, yes, I suppose, but I - “

Chuck put his finger to Ina’s mouth

“Say no more, my dear. It’s natural to feel vulnerable in this situation. But let me assure you, everything is being shot in the most artistic technique possible. And you, well, just look at you, huh?” He spun her around in the center of the set.

“Ina, you are a dream. My living, breathing Renoir painting. And I want you to know, that was my inspiration for your room here. The colors, the outfits, a Parisian chorus line meets the Old West. The colors, the costumes, they are meant to evoke the Belle Epoch, you know? You are wearing the same outfits Degas’ dancers wore, did you know that?”

“Uh huh, you mean if they wore anything?” Ina added in a clipped tone.

“See, and that’s exactly it! The original work of art is, of course, the beauty of the female form.”

“Cain’t argue with that.” Elvis smirked, but Ina shot him a withering look which threw him off again and once more he was frowning and searching her face.

Chuck noticed none of this and kept talking.

“And you are an exemplary example of the female form, a perfect specimen of a woman.”

“Well, I assure you I am no drag queen.”

Elvis coughed nervously, his hands clenched in fists at his side. The quick, sharp look he shot Joe did not escape Ina’s notice and she knew then that he had said the things Jerry and Charlie had been laughing about. She narrowed her glare at him, telegraphing her contempt as he stuttered and tried to regain control of the conversation.

“No - ah-uh -er - siree, honey, you’re the real deal, got more class than the rest of this outfit combined. Why, I reckon I’m more nervous ‘bout this scene than you are.”

Chuck nodded vigorously.

“Yes, we are all nervous shooting something that is, as I said, delicate like this. And your character is unsure in this scene, she loves Jess, but is torn, because she’s worried he is still the bandit she sent away. Channel your feelings into the scene and let’s make beautiful artwork here today.”

Ina rolled her eyes. “Ok, ok, I’m ok. Like he said, let’s just get it over with already.”

Elvis grinned as he walked around the set door to his mark.

“That’s the spirit, Iny Beany.”

Chuck yelled action, directing them through the scene as the cameras rolled.

“You see him rooting through your stuff, and you think of how long it's been, how he left you without a word. You hate him because you love him, but you wish you didn’t and you are trying to keep it all bottled up. Beautiful. Indifferent. That’s it Ina, that cool, icy glare, it’s perfect.”

It was not hard for Ina to muster a cool, icy glare for Elvis as he looked down at her. Every time they started, one of the PAs would come over and spray her body and chest with water for continuity with the bath scene that was just supposed to have occurred in the storyline.

In the third run through, she couldn’t help herself when Elvis’ foot knocked into hers. She thought of that guilty grimace she saw move across his face at the words “drag queen” and she stepped on his foot. Hard.

“Perfect! Perfect Ina, you’re nailing it!” Chuck called out from where he was watching the monitor.

“Nailing me is more like it,” Elvis said, jumping back, a hurt pout on his face. Then he reached out and stroked the side of her shoulder.

“Say, you sure you ok? You’re not sore at me for something, are you? It’d be better if we just clear the air. If I said something this morning, or did something in passing, honey, I’m sorry. But you gotta tell me.”

Ina looked in his big blue eyes, searching hers, seeking a connection. She glanced off behind him, at the brocade pink wall paper. The air smelled of bath water, sweat and cheap aftershave. Chuck was right, she thought, this could be a cheap Parisian brothel.

“I assure you, I am fine.” Ina forced her mouth into a tight smile. “Just watch where you’re going and we’ll be fine.”

He squinted his eyes at her, but seemed to decide against whatever it was he originally wanted to say, and stepped back with his arms up in surrender. “Okay. Alright. Whatever you say, Iny, my mistake. Let’s try again, I bet we’ll get it right somehow.”

They went through the whole scene three times, up until the part where Jess lifts Tracy up and carries her to the bed. Elvis’ eyes narrowed as he stepped toward her, uttering his lines in a stern, serious voice. But when he picked her up and hoisted her in the air, she heard Charlie’s obnoxious laughter in the background and their words from earlier began to play through her head again on a loop.

The shrill sound of his laugh sent a sharp bolt of pain down the center of her head and suddenly she felt as if ginger ale was bubbling up on to the top of her brain. She wasn’t sure if she could hold it together anymore.

There was the taste of bile again at the back of her throat. She swallowed, running through all of the tools she had learned in the Actor’s Studio such as telling herself she was Tracy and trying to channel her anger into the tension between Tracy and Jess. She was, after all, supposed to be fighting Jess’ advances at first and pushing him off before giving in. But she could barely look at Elvis and instinctively jerked back when he placed her on the bed and began to move his fingers over her sternum.

Her head throbbed and she could feel more tears welling up. She had to get out of there and take a little break, so she cried out, “CUT!”

Elvis jumped back, a panicked look on his face.

“Did I hurt you, Iny Beany? Wanna do it again, just to practice, from the mark by the bed?”

“No.,” she hissed under her breath, pushing him away. Maybe she didn’t need a break, maybe they could just skip this scene altogether.

“No, no no. I’m sorry, I just can’t do it. Chuck, do we really need a full love scene? We’re not making Belle du Jour here.”

Elvis had his hands on his hips, a stricken look on his face while Ina stood, straightening what was left of her dignity and snapping her fingers for the PAs to bring her thicker robe.

“Ina, darling, we just went through this.” Chuck’s transatlantic accent was getting thicker and higher-pitched the more he spoke. “And I hate to bring this up, you know I do, my dear, but it's in your contract.”

“Contract or not, I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

“My dear, what can I do to make you comfortable?” Chuck pleaded.

“Nothing. I would rather make love to a rattlesnake than to that man.”

Elvis stood taller, his fingers balled up into fists as his leveled, polished voice began to transform into a Southern snarl.

“Yeah, uh huh, well I had about enough of this bull shit. Rattlesnake, huh? That can be arranged, honey, why, I’ll get it myself.”

“Well, I bet it will be small and limp, just like you.”

He staggered back when she hurled those words at him, flustered and mumbling as he looked around the set to see who had been in earshot and heard her yell out the words ‘small and limp’ at him. The answer, of course, was everybody. Because everybody in the crew was watching.

They had, of course, originally gathered around because Charro! was making film history with today’s shoot.

All the popular European films being released had sex scenes, James Bond was having sex. Several recent westerns had initially included nude scenes, but studios had cut them at the last minute.

But 1968 marked the dawning of a new era. The MPAA had a new rating system. Bonnie & Clyde had proven last year that audiences not only had a stomach for violence, but wanted sex. And like Bonnie, they wanted it much more than they got it. And so this picture, and about a dozen others in production, were all racing to give it to them.

Even if the plan was to pan to a hat and then just Ina’s face, Charro! was going to make history.

Or rather, it would have made history. Instead, the entire crew watched in horror as Ina threw up her hands and stomped off in protest while Elvis coughed loudly, took a deep breath, and then announced to the crowd

“Don’t worry, folks, we’re gonna get Arthur Rankin in here and he’s gonna recreate these scenes with claymation. Make a little Elvis the Rednosed Cowboy.” His voice rang out with forced cheerfulness, followed by a ripple of nervous laughter that spread through the soundstage.

“Boy, I tell ya what, now that would be a historical milestone, huh Chuck? Bet audiences would pay double ta see a stop motion love scene.”

The director nodded as Elvis patted him on the shoulder with a forced, playful candor and then strode out of the studio followed by his entourage.

Elvis’ motel room was dark, save for the television, an ever present companion, and the table lamp that cast shadows against the wall outlining Alma’s silhouette. The light captured every curve of her body as it lay sideways across the bed next to him. His fingers tapped absentmindedly over her bronze thigh, but his mind was otherwise occupied and failed to register the coquettish look she was giving him as she pouted and ran her hand over his arm.

He was thinking of his first film and the time had asked his co-star, Richard Egan, the secret to good acting.

“You. You already got it kid, in spades. Why do you think they renamed this picture after your song? Just be you, unaffected, unadulterated. You’re a natural.”

But what good had natural ability been without opportunity? He’d had such high hopes back then, hopes to be in real movies about real people, stories with an edge that packed a punch. And for a time, it seemed like he was. Dramas in which the singing was a plausible part of the premise.

But somewhere along the way the edge had been sanded off and his plans had all gone wrong. He’d gotten himself typecast as the type of character he hated, a romantic lead who broke into song during an appointment with the IRS. Those roles were fine for Rock Hudson, but not for him. He knew he could do better. Better than dumb musicals, better than all this.

He had those same high hopes for this picture when he first read the script.

“Guess I should be happy this western’s actually being filmed in the goddamn desert and not in some California shrub valley,” he mumbled, balling his hands into fists as he spoke.

“What was that, baby?”

Elvis looked up at the woman lying next to him, he had forgotten she was even there. Her warm body next to him had become just another amenity of the room, like the mini fridge or the Gideons Bible. The puzzled look on her young, naive face reminded him how truly alone he was.

Oblivious to Elvis' existential crisis, Alma decided maybe he needed some prompting after their kisses had dissolved into still silence. She moved her hand to Elvis’ thigh, stopping when he flinched and jumped up almost as if he were trying to escape her touch. She frowned, then flipped her hair as she adjusted and lay prone over the polyester orange bedspread, fashioning a come hither look on her face. She could tell he was rattled by the onset fight and was trying everything in her bag of tricks to laugh it off and redirect him to something better. Her.

“Ha, small and limp. That bitch has no idea what she’s missing. It took all my self control not to cry out in front of everyone that you have an anaconda in your pants, Elvis.”

A grimace passed over his face, and Elvis started to button up his shirt and mumble to the floor.

“Don’t, baby - just-” He softened his voice at the rejection he saw in her eyes. “Honey, I can’t stand it when women do that.”

“What, what am I doing wrong?” Alma sat, her face falling as she scooted back against the pillows.

Elvis pulled on the red bandana around his neck and paced the other way, looking back at her as he tucked his shirt back into his clean, brown corduroy pants. His shoulders stiffened.

“Insincerity. I can’t, I jus hate it when women go overboard trying to puff up my ego. I’ve had my share of lovers, no one ever complained. That’s not the point.”

“It isn’t?”

“Nah, honey. What that bitch is really saying is she don’t take me serious, I’m not man enough for this fucking role, for her New York high society standards. Fat lot of good any a that did her, thinks I don’t know she’s been in what, five pictures? Jerry Lewis? Try twenty five, sister. Give me a goddamn break. She’s wound so tight, she could start a fight in an empty house, I tell ya what, boy, and that’s the god honest truth.”

He began to pace the room, wringing his hands over as he walked.

“This un’ is gonna be different, Chuck said, more raw, Chuck said, more real.” His voice trilled between a high falsetto and a deep growl. “Then first they cut the violence, and now this bullshit. What’s next? Bet they gonna try and have me sing to my fuckin horse!”

He punched the wall. “Fucking cowboys don’t fucking sing!” He screamed to the ceiling, then began to pace again, his hands now balled up in fists.

He turned and looked at Alma. “You ever see John Wayne sing? Gary Cooper? ‘Fore they walked over to the OK corral to shoot the bad guy?”

He punched the wall again and then turned and tried to compose himself when he saw Alma flinch.

“Ok ok ok ok.” He took a deep breath. “I - uh - this picture’s got me all keyed up.”

“Want some grass? Flor has some killer grass, make you forget today even happened.”

“Nah, honey - now, good lil girls like you should know better than to mess with that stuff.”

Alma pulled her hand through her hair and struck what she thought was a glamorous, come hither pose.

“Want me to give you a blow job? Help you relax?”

Elvis frowned. “Man, like a goddamn cat in heat and twice as willing. Don’t you think of nothing else?”

Alma sat up and started to put her clothes on, her voice as low as her hopes for the evening.

“You’re the one who invited me up here and had me undress while you watched. I’m just trying to do what I thought you wanted.”

“Well stop tryin’ to think, you’ll wear yourself out.”

Alma grabbed her shoes and opened the door, finding Joe on the other side with one hand about to knock and another holding up a tray of food in his hands.

“Oh, hey -”

“Hey yourself.” Alma said with a huff and a very aggressive hair flip, her long brown tresses smacking Joe’s cheek.

Elvis shrugged as Joe looked after Alma, whistling to himself.

“Man o man, EP, you got the prettiest girl here. What’s up her butt?”

“I don’t know - Something up with the chicks on this picture, man, stuck up and crazier than a sack full a possums.”

Elvis looked at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall across from the bed as Joe mumbled about how many crazy women they had met on their journeys, half-listening as he stroked his beard and reassured himself that he looked just as fit as Clint Eastwood. And more handsome. He winked at himself and straightened his belt buckle, then looked over at Joe.

“Now hold on a second, son, jus’ what in high heaven is that?”

Elvis lifted his hands from his left hip and pointed at the cheeseburgers and fries Joe had laid out on the table, fixing him with a dark glare.

“You said dinner, EP, brought you dinner.”

“Tryin’ to get me back in the 200 club like you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you been auditioning for the part of lardass of the group.”

“But last night - I thought you -

“I thought, I thought - you ain’t thought shit, and that’s the problem. I’m supposed to be shirtless on film tomorrow and you fixin’ to get me fat as a boarding house cat.”

Joe frowned, furrowing his brow for the split second it took him to plaster a smile back on and nod. Now he understood what was up Alma’s ass, and what was about to be up his too if he didn’t turn this around.

“Right, boss, my mistake, tell me what you want and I’ll go get it.”

“What I want, what I want. Ain’t nobody cares what I want, and that’s the goddamn problem. Save a whole lotta time and money if you just thought to ask first.”

Elvis put his hands on his waist and cried out an inaudible growl to the ceiling.

“Jus… just bring me a caesar salad. A big one.”

Joe hurried out and Elvis went over to cover up the burgers, but the smell was too tempting, so instead he sat down and began to devour them one after another, mumbling to himself in between bites.

“Goddamit, if I look fat tomorrow it’ll be Joe’s goddamn fuckin’ fault.”

There was a knock at the door, and he yelled for whoever it was to come in as he went to wash up.

“Joe told me to come get rid of the - uh - food tray.”

Charlie’s voice trailed off as Elvis emerged from the bathroom and followed Charlie’s eyes to the table and the plates that were empty, save for a handful of cold fries.

“Well, have at it - wait.”

Elvis stepped back and looked around, grabbing one of the guns from the night stand and put it in his belt. He had all this nervous energy running up and down his body, he needed to just get out of this room, out of this motel, get as far as possible to just breathe some fresh air and think. He snapped his fingers at Charlie.

“Grab Gee Gee, we’re going for a drive.”

Charlie’s face softened into a big goofy, excited grin. “Okee dokee artichokee, where we heading?”

“Anywhere that ain’t this goddamn motel, numb nuts.” Elvis started to head down the exterior stairs, running his hand over the warm, wrought iron bannister. He looked back over his shoulder and clapped.

“Bring the cigars, too, then meet me at the car. Chop chop.”

A renewed sense of purpose guided his steps as Elvis walked down the corridor of motel rooms that lined the pool,and he ran his hands up and down the front of his shirt. He mulled over what he wanted to do that didn’t involve eating more hamburgers. Or eating anything.

When he looked up, he realized he had stopped outside Ina’s room. There, through the curtain, he could see the back of her through the curtain where she sat on her bed, talking to someone on the phone.

“No no no, Mickey, of course I understand. Yes, well, I don’t know, I think you have to have been on top to get back on top, but your meaning is not lost on me. I get it. Yes. Opportunity of a lifetime. I know. Elvis Elvis. Don’t worry. I’m gonna go make it right, right now.”

She looked up at the ceiling and wiped the sides of her eyes, summoning a mask of quiet cheer Elvis recognized well as she clutched the phone tight.

“Yes, no - I’ll be a good girl, Mickey. I promise. I know, I know, no bread.”

He was transfixed, enjoying the power he felt watching her unaware, and pressed closer to the glass, careful not to draw attention to himself. A small front section of her long, flowing hair fell out from behind her ears and she absentmindedly began to twist it nervously. She looked like a fragile little girl, like a beautiful flower someone had stepped on. The sight of her anxiously talking away pulled on his heart strings.

He shook his head. What the fuck had happened? Why was she so angry at him? He'd played the part of the funny, affable host from the minute they met, introducing her to the crew and having Gee Gee get her screwdrivers as they all yukked it up in the bar. He'd about busted his gut when she lobbed a handful of ice at Charlie and knocked him over the back of the couch.

He stood there watching as her big brown eyes lit up while she told her agent how nice the desert was. He almost believed her. Goddamit, why couldn’t she just be a good girl and get along? She’d been sweet and flirty in make-up and then what, an hour or two later, her claws were out and she’d aimed them at him.

He whistled and thought about the fickleness of women as he turned to walk the long way around the pool.

Thirty seconds later he heard the thud of a door opening followed by Ina’s voice calling out for him.

Elvis stopped, his hands moved out as if to balance himself as he swiveled around, slowly, to face her. A sense of dread settling in his stomach. Up above him, he saw Charlie and Gee Gee making their way down the staircase, while to his left a group of crew members were heading for the pool. The smell of chlorine wafted through the open air hallway.

He cautiously trudged back toward the doorway to where Ina stood, each footfall a slow thump of his cowboy boot against the hard concrete sidewalk.

“Oh good, I’m glad I caught you, Elvis.” She swallowed, there it was again, that cheerful mask settling over her face as she exhaled a nervous laugh. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

Elvis straightened up, looking around again before pulling on the red bandana at his throat. He definitely didn’t want to be alone with Ina. She was unpredictable and he couldn’t stand the awkward energy that flickered between them. However, he also didn’t want another public scene and he could already hear their names being whispered by some of the crew at the pool.

So he did what he always did with an audience, he mustered a wide, beaming smile and spoke in a nonchalant, cool voice:

“Hey honey, you ain’t gotta worry bout me, I’m all good. You get your beauty sleep and I’ll see you tamarra onset an - “

Ina’s lip trembled, she looked like she might fall apart at any moment.

Shit he thought, unable to stop himself from walking over to her and stroking her shoulder.

“There there, been a rough day. This desert heat, I tell ya what, baby, does things to ya head. Now go ahead and listen to ol’ Elvis -”

Ina put her hand over his where it squeezed her shoulder.

“Could we just talk - just for a moment?” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Alone. I - I won’t take much time, I just - I’d like to apologize and clear the air if you’ll let me. Otherwise, otherwise I won’t be able to sleep and then you’ll be making love to a haggard old zombie first thing in the morning.”

Elvis' eyes softened and he looked around once more before nodding. “Ok.”

As soon as the door closed he was an obedient puppy letting her lead him by the hand to sit on the bed, where he took off his cowboy hat and toyed with it in his lap.

Ina stepped away, backing toward the dresser where she lifted herself to sit next to the TV, but then changed her mind. She felt like a ship adrift, unmoored and out of her comfort zone. Sitting and swinging her legs about was too casual, she decided, so she stood back up and swept the hair that had fallen out of her high ponytail behind her ears.

Just make it short, sweet, earnest, she reminded herself, you’re no stranger to eating humble pie. Indeed, Ina reflected on the number of times she had apologized unnecessarily just to smooth things over with her mother or sister, a producer, an ad executive. This was one of the first times she felt she actually had behaved badly and now she was lost for words. If only there was a script for life.

“I - um - thanks for seeing me - I - I - I.”

All the words left her head when she found Elvis’ dark blue eyes studying her beneath his long lashes. He was rotating his cowboy hat in his lap. The smell of the heavy floral cleaning products the maids had used lingered in the air, stronger now that the air conditioner cycled on with a heaving, mechanic whomp. She swallowed again, and counted to ten, trying to ignore the way the back of her neck seemed to prickle as a chill went down her spine. She steadied herself, forcing her eyes to connect with his.

“Elvis, I am so very sorry. I mean it. I - I - I - ’ve never lost it before onset, it is so unprofessional I can barely stand to look at myself.”

She felt a release of tension as she watched his hands relax. He took a deep breath and stroked his beard.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Ina, I been making two to three pictures a year since 1933. I can roll with the punches, ain’t nothing I can’t handle. ThoughI gotta admit you threw me off back there.”

The register of his voice changed from rougher to softer as he looked down at the floor and then back up at Ina’s face.

“Be honest, did I do anything to offend you or make you mad at me?”

His softer side was almost harder to withstand and his eyes seemed to penetrate her very being, seeking out the secrets she kept hidden in her heart. She shook it off with another nervous chuckle,

“No, no, this was 100% me. I’ve been so nervous about these love making shoots. Chuck’s is telling everyone back in Hollywood this is the first the first film with a sex scene - “

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, I mean, since the production code, maybe, but they’ve shot plenty of them. It’s just that the studio always pulls out at that last minute -”

Ina covered her mouth and gasped when she watched Elvis’ lip curl up at her words but said nothing. He didn’t need to. The glint in his eye said it all and when he waggled his eyebrows up and down Ina laughed out. She was grateful for the levity, it seemed to crack through Elvis’ cool bravada and made this conversation easier.

“Stop, you know what I mean.”

She blushed, and looked out her window, watching as the silhouettes of two people walked by. It was getting dark, she needed to wrap it up.

“But yes, today I was nervous, I haven’t been eating or sleeping much, but I promise you - “

Her voice wavered as she turned back to find his steady gaze.

“ - um - no more fights, no more difficult behavior. I am so grateful for this opportunity to work with you and I just hope you can forgive me for my lapse of judgment.”

Elvis stood up, his fingers were once more busy fiddling with his cowboy hat and he spoke in a low whisper.

“Ok. I forgive you. So long as you really ain’t mad at me.”

The breath hitched in Ina’s throat when Elvis looked up at her, biting his lip in a way that made the top jut out a bit as he searched her face once more, as if she were a puzzle he needed to solve.

She gulped. “I - uh - I - no, I just need some sleep - I “

“Honey I can’t help feeling like you’re holding something back here, and if we’re gonna get along, I need you to be completely honest with me.”

Ina looked away. Damn him, he was like one of those fortune tellers back on Coney Island who she had believed as a kid. As a teenager she had learned the truth: they had no supernatural talents, they were just extremely gifted at reading their marks. Like Elvis was reading her right now.

“Oh, I may have been upset about something but it doesn’t matter, it was silly and stupid, like me. I - I was wrong, and I apologize. I’ll happily apologize to you in front of the whole crew tomorrow if you want. Really. If that is what it will take to make amends with you Mr. Presley.”

Elvis clenched his fists.

“I don’t give a damn about a public apology or the crew or any of that. But I can’t bear it when a woman is sore at me and won’t say why. Ticks me off to no end.”

Tension hung in the air, and Ina sighed. Recounting the whole ordeal made it seem so juvenile now, though it still stung.

“I - I am, I heard some of your friends talking. They -”

“Which friends?”

“Jerry, Jerry and Charlie. I told you, it’s like high school and I can’t believe I let them upset me.”

“Well now you started, better lay it all out for me. Go on.”

“I - I well, I heard them laughing about how you had said I looked like - like drag queen that needed a shave. And they were calling me Groucho and saying I had big feet.”

Ina let her shoulders drop and forced a smile, but she couldn’t stop her hand from pulling on the necklace at her chest.

“Ha, actually now that I say it is kind of funny, you see I - um - I usually have a great sense of humor. Any of my friends would tell you. Some of them are drag queens, actually. They’d probably feel more slighted being compared to me. Your boys just, they - they just caught me right before I was filming my first nude scene and well - “

Ina’s voice trailed off as she watched Elvis get up and pace towards the bathroom growling.

“Those fucking nitwits, pulling a stunt like that and gummin up tha works -” he turned and his face fell at the pained look on Ina’s face. “You know I never said nothin’ like that.”

Ina quickly shook her head, summoning the calm veneer that usually came so easy to her. She immediately regretted telling Elvis, now she felt as raw as she did after she had a full waxing appointment at the salon.

In her heart she knew he was lying, she knew from the way he had grimaced, albeit it briefly, on set when she’d said she wasn’t a drag queen.

Yet there was something earnest and pleading in his eyes that made her question her own grip on reality. This got worse when he bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling, all vulnerable and apologetic, as if searching for the right thing to say. It made her stomach flip up into her throat. Then looked at her, his eyes wide with a newfound warmth as he sought a connection from across the room, as if he were seeing her for the first time. Ina knew right then that she needed to get him out before anything changed.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I know. And, well it doesn’t matter anyway, right? I mean it’s none of my business what you think of me - like I said, I knew some knockout drag queens, so it’s a compliment really. Ha so - “

Elvis stode over as she spoke and grabbed her hands, his thumb delicately soothing the top of her knuckles. The spicy smell of his aftershave entered her nostrils as he spoke in a low, soft voice.

“Here’s the thing now, Iny Beany, I just need you to know though that I didn’t say none a that. Ya right, them boys still in high school, and they been playing pranks like we’re still in high school. I guar-an-TEE you they knew the assistant had just called for you, and they set that whole thing up to ruin my first sex scene shoot. Have half a mind to fire 'em. They need to learn some goddamn respect."

Ina found herself transfixed, unable to step away or pull her hands from his. She looked him over. He somehow looked like a cowboy who had let a bunch of drag queens dress him.

He wore a fresh pair of dark green slacks, a thick leather belt and a long sleeve white linen shirt. Over his hands sat several jewel-encrusted rings matched by the two necklaces that lay underneath his red bandana, tied much like a silk ascot through a cravat. His foundation make-up was impeccable, and his hair was styled in a high quiff perfectly slicked back above his forehead. It made him look cavalier and polished at the same time.

Then there was the way his smokey eye makeup was now smudged around his waterline made him look even more ruggedly attractive. Sweat glistened underneath his beard, almost like glitter. There, in the dim light of her motel room he looked like the prettiest cowboy she had ever seen.

“Know what I mean?”

Ina shook her head, realizing she’d gotten caught up staring at his scruffy chin and lost track of what he was saying.

“Um, I’m sorry, what did you say?”

A sly grin tweaked up the corners of his lips.

“I said, you cain’t listen to a word outta those boys' moufs, ‘specially Charlie. His elevator don’t go all the way up, if you take my meaning.”

Elvis stepped in closer to her, cautiously, waiting to see if she stepped away or flinched. But it was all Ina could do to just keep breathing, each stroke of Elvis' thumb over her hand now sent a bolt of electricity down her chest.

“How I could I say something like that about you, Iny? Ya so beautiful, I could barely look at you too long before turning into mush.”

Ina rolled her eyes, but she could feel her own resolve waver as his hand moved to her hips and a blush crept over her face.

“Stop, you don’t have to lie to me.”

He shook his head, his nose tickling over hers.

“How can you say that Iny Meany? You have no idea, no idea what you do to me.”

Ina’s heart skipped a beat when she felt his thumb at the indent of her girdle. The air between their bodies seemed to crackle now with heat, and he pulled her closer, nuzzling his nose over hers. A tear rolled down her face and he lifted his finger to catch it.

“Ssshhhh, s’ok baby, s’ok. I got you. And I promise ain’t no one gonna talk like that about you again.”

He pressed his cheek against hers and she pushed back,willfully embracing the harsh scruff of his beard. She could feel herself teetering on the precipice of something dangerous. If she crossed this line with Elvis it would change the dynamic of their work together, it would change her reputation. She had vowed to herself she wouldn’t be susceptible to his charms, him, of all people. He was so obvious, so cliche. And yet here she was, nuzzling her nose back along his.

Emboldened, Elvis gently pressed his lips to her skin, peppering her jaw with light kisses. Ina eagerly moved to give him access to her neck and he instantly took the hint and suckled at her nape, pausing to grin as she moaned out a high, breathy unladylike moan.

Her chest heaved as their lips met and the faint aroma of mustard filled Ina’s nostrils.

“Oh my god, you taste like hamburger.”

Elvis chuckled, unsure of himself for a moment. Ina enjoyed watching him become self conscious.

"I’m sorry baby, you want me to go brush my teeth?”

She shook her head, pulling him closer and speaking between kisses.

“No - mmmm - it’s amazing — mmm - haven’t had a mmamburger in months.”

Elvis let out a nervous laugh.

“Ok, ya kook, I’ll be sure and eat hamburger every day.”

"Ha! I'm gonna hold you to that, Presley."

His fingers brushed over her thighs as he lifted her onto the dresser and Ina trembled.

“You ok? Just say the word, and I’ll stop.”

She shook her head, stopping was the last thing on her mind. Though she suddenly thought of crew members at the pool who’d seen her call Elvis into her room to apologize.

“I wonder what everyone outside thinks we’re doing in here.”

“Hmmm, whatever they’re thinking, I guarantee it's not nearly as good as what I’m thinking.”

“Elvis - I - I don’t want to have sex.”

He arched his eyebrow.

“Whoo now, who said anything about sex?”

“I mean, of course I want to have sex with you.”

He stoked her thighs, a faint smile on his face.

"Relax Iny, we’re just having some fun. Don’t overthink it. We ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t wanna do.”

Ina released a nervous giggle. “OK, you see, I um, well, actually the thing is that I sometimes break out when I - I do it.”

“Really? You know that Max Factor stuff will cover anything.”

“Ha! I know - I just think tonight, no matter what I say later, we should just keep it simple.”

“I gotcha Iny girl. Sweet. Simple.”

Ina’s pulse quickened at the way he leaned into her chest, his hands worked up from her thighs. She felt like a giddy teenager as she smiled gleefully into his face, her right hand fiddling with his ear.

“You have a great earlobe, you know that? I can see why you’re a movie star.”

“Huh. That right? Cuz of my earlobe?”

He leaned in and kissed the top of her nose.

“Oh yeah, it's very photogenic. I see why this is the only part of you in frame during the sex scene. I mean the rest could as ugly as Boris Karloff -” Ina waved her other hand in front of Elvis face. “But this lobe, right here, it’s a million dollar lobe.”

Elvis chuckled. “That right?”

“Uh huh. I hope you have it insured - oh god.”

Elvis' right hand moved over her breast, flicking her nipple.

“Hmm, well, maybe I should stop whateva this is and go call the colonel, get him right on that, uh huh.”

He moved as if to leave, smirking at how quickly Ina pulled him back into her arms.

“Don’t go.”

She squeaked out, voice cracking.

“You sure? You don want me to fetch a rattlesnake to kiss instead? See if you like making love to his earlobe?”

“Stop.”

Ina swatted him, straightening the line of his bandana.

“Please don’t repeat what I said earlier, I was tired and nervous and upset and I hate myself for that whole scene. I really am sorry, Presley.”

“I know, baby, I know. I'm just teasing.”

He pressed his lip son hers once more and Ina rocked forward into him, following the slow, tender rhythm of Elvis’ body. She felt like a buoy, still unmoored and adrift in the ocean, but now she didn’t want to come into shore. She wanted to stay like this, swaying back and forth to the ebb of Elvis’ tide, delighting in the wet smack of Elvis’ lips every time they smashed into hers. Again and again.

Her whole body buzzed when his fingers trailed down to her hem and absentmindedly began to work their way under her dress. He had notched himself between her legs, fitting snugly against her knee caps. She made a small squeak of surrender as she opened her hips to bring him in closer. The taste of onions and pepsi and meat filled her mouth as he took her with the tip of his tongue, slowly owning and consuming her completely.

Elvis moaned into her and deepened their kiss.

Ina lost herself in the sweet supple cushion of his lips. His hands moved over her bosom, fanning the spark in her belly into a flame. Then his fingers moved under her skirt and feathered over the warmth of her panties. Ina felt the bulge begin to swell at her thigh and then Elvis jerked back.

Every cell in her body cried out to pull him back into her embrace and then until he was inside her and they were melting into each other. Vows and boundaries be damned. Thank god he had some sense of self control.

“Whooa, whoa whoa.” He muttered slowly, almost painfully.

Ina nodded, licking her lips as she met his eyes.

“You ok?’

“Yeah, you?”

Elvis took a deep breath. “Course, honey, I - I - I just think we better put the breaks on for tonight.”

“Yeah, sure, no. Totally. This was exactly what I wanted.”

He wiped his mouth, shooting her an impish smile, like he knew exactly what she wanted.

“Guess I should clear out, huh?”

“You don’t have to leave, I mean, I enjoy your company. Is what I mean. But if you are looking to get lucky, then yes, I suppose you should find one of those extras you've been playing patty cake with.”

“Huh, okay, well I'll be on my way then. Catch ya later.”

But he didn't move, just stayed there hovering above her. His forehead leaning into her as he pushed in even closer, pressing the air out of her lungs.

“You do have a reputation to keep up. I understand.”

"Mhmmmm."

Elvis shook his head and went to sit on her bed, up against the head board.

��Look, I'm willing to put my reputation aside, jus for one night. I promise, no funny business. Clothes stay on.”

He smirked.

“Unless you’d feel more comfortable without your dress on.”

Ina hesitantly moved to perch next to him. She could still taste the mix of Elvis’ salty sweat on her tongue as she wiped her raw lips.

“That’s awfully accommodating of you, Presley.”

“What can I say, Iny Beany, I’m an open minded guy. Always say, if a girl wants to take her own dress off, who am I to say she can’t?’

“Well, if it’s all the same to you I think I’ll keep mine on. For now. There’s still time for you to make an exit.”

“Aw, now shut up with that exit junk already and get in here.”

Elvis pulled Ina down into the curve of his arm, and she sighed, embracing the cozy warmth of his body and rubbing her hand over the trim stretch of his stomach as he spoke to her in a soft, friendly voice.

"Alright now, I want you to tell me everything there is to know about you. How did the hell you end up in a god forsaken Elvis Presley picture, huh?”

“Hmmm, poor life choices? But Elvis, I thought you liked this film? I thought you were the one who made it happen.”

“Aw, well, sure, the first script was pret-tee fantastic. It was gritty and had guts, ya know, but then these damn producers been wittlin' it away to nothing, man. Chuck cornered me this afternoon once you'd left and started in on nagging me to sing the title song.”

“You don’t want to sing? Just the title? it would be so good.”

“So you like the way I sing, Iny?”

Elvis’ eyes danced but then he remembered what they were talking about and was solemn once more.

“Yeah, naw man, that would set it up as another Presley musical, the next they’ll be trying to get me to sing to my horse. No self respecting cowboy sings, you ever heard of a singing cowboy? Never seen John Wayne sing.”

“OK, sure, but what about Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, Hank Williams was the Driftless Cowboy, right?” Elvis leveled her with his blue eyes and pinched her side.

“Hmmm - guess you got me there. But it’s 1968, I’d like to see Gene Autry sell a movie in today’s economy. My boy my boy. Today it ain't no joke. Can you see him in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly?”

Ina tilted her head in agreement back onto Elvis' shoulder, she felt the same way she did sinking into a pair of comfy, worn-in slippers, and founding his chest as relaxed and welcoming,

“Trust me, I get it, I’m just grateful I don’t have to do a rape scene in this film.”

He squeezed Ina tighter, kissing her cheek.

“Yeah, me too, honey, real grateful. Boy. Don’t know why anyone want ta see that.”

“The old west ain’t what it used to be.”

“You can say that again.”

Elvis' arms closed around Ina tighter as they murmured the hours away, comparing diet pills, LA taco huts and favorite movies while their limbs easily intertwined into one another. The closest he got to undressing her was the moment around midnight when he stealthily undid her pony tail and played with her hair while she pretended to be miffed. Then he kissed her forehead and told her he had done her a favor, because it looked better this way, and she should just be a good girl and do as he said. Which got him a light slap and a big “HA!”

They spent the next hour enjoying a playful, cozy respite together in the dim orange glow of Ina’s hotel room. It was well past one in the morning when he gave her a parting kiss that turned into a series of parting kisses before he snuck back up to his suite.

Shooting began the next day at 7 a.m., and you could have knocked the director, Chuck, over with a long, pink gaudy boa feather as he found Elvis and Ina in good spirits ready to work. They exchanged playful barbs and their onscreen chemistry sizzled when they went through each sequence, pausing between takes for Ina’s chest to be spritzed while another batch of assistants dabbed Elvis’ forehead with dry unused coffee filters. The industry’s secret weapon against perspiration.

Elvis found Ina in her dressing room during a break and their lips met with stifled giggles as they kissed now with away from the ever present surveillance of the crew, laughing and talked into each other’s mouths.

“Oh my god, now you taste like bacon. I swear Elvis, you’re gonna have me off my diet and then I’ll swell up like a balloon and then Charro! will be a very different film about a cowboy and his pregnant saloon madam.”

“Baby, you gotta let yourself have one hamburger now and then, trust me now, I been doing this longer than you. It will help the cravings.”

Ina kept her mouth shut as she calculated that she had been in this business just as long as he had, since she began modelling at 15 in 1955.

“Ok. I give in. I have no willpower around you. I will have one hamburger this week.”

“Tonight, honey. Imma have you for dinner.” He winked. “Over for dinner, I mean. I’ll have one a my guys come get you and bring you up to my room later. ”

“Ok. Dinner. Tonight. Your room.” She grinned as she chased the taste of bacon on his tongue and the salty scent of his body as it enveloped her until a knock on the door brought them back into their roles on set as Jess and Tracy.

That night Elvis went through his usual routine after a shoot, which began with a shower to wash off the desert and the dust and the sweat of the set off his body. He took extra care in how he dressed, selecting a light blue dress shirt and a white suit, capping off his outfit with a small black porkpie hat. He doused himself in aftershave and the smell of Old Spice smacked Joe in the face when he came in to set up Elvis’ calls to Memphis and LA.

Once Elvis hung up his phone he leaned over and banged on the wall for Joe to come back in.

“You want me to get that sweet little Mexican gal boss? Alma?”

“Did I tell you to do that? That gal ain’t nothing but a big phony, naw man. Wait for me to tell you what to do, son."

Elvis stood up and went to slather more after shave on, exchanging one ring for another at his toiletry bag.

"Go down stairs and invite Ina up to join me for dinner.”

Joe let out a loud cackle. “What, Groucho?”

Elvis paused, taking in the look of disbelief on Joe’s face. His heart sank and he rubbed his hands over one another as he remembered how they all were howling at his jokes about her a few nights ago.

He hadn’t even really meant it. He’d just said those things after watching Alma and Flor look at Ina with envy during rehearsals. All he had wanted was to put them at ease, make them understand he was attracted to them. Saying what he thought they wanted to hear. But then the boys had chimed in and now they all thought she was a dog.

Elvis forced a low chuckle and ran his hand through his hair.

“Nah, man, not Ina - I meant Flor. Goddamn it, this picture messin’ with my head.”

He swallowed hard, thinking of the way Ina's beautiful big brown eyes looking up at him. They their legs had seemed to fit together, the way conversation had seemed to flow effortlessly. He smiled to himself thinking of the way she had blushed when he snuck into her dressing room. How her breasts had felt beneath as they ran their love scenes. He pushed away the pang of guilt for now and tamped down his desire to hold her once more. Maybe he'd sneak down to her room later if he could get away. But for now he had an image uphold. These guys looked up to him, and his control over them as their boss rested on the how cool they thought he was.

He snapped his finger at Joe.

“But I don’t wanna hear y’all calling her that no more. Tell the others. Like I said this morning, y’all shitwads talking like that is what got me in trouble in the first place.”

And with that, Elvis spent another night surrounded by people and utterly alone.

I don't really think I did Ina justice here, look at how great they looked together. We were robbed of their sex scenes.....

taglist:

@i-r-i-n-a-a @ab4eva @eliseinmemphis @richardslady121 @artlover8992 @ashtag6887 @karolshungary @j-v-9-2 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @notstefaniepresley @dollette02 @dkayfixates @everythingelvispresley @velvetelvis @moonchild-daniella @lialocklear @obsessionisthecure @louisejoy86 @arrolyn1114 @literally-just-elvis-fics

i don't really have a taglist for one-shots and I apologize if you don't want to be tagged, just let me know and I'll take you off.

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis #new hollywood elvis #charro!#banditqueenwrites

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deke-rivers-1957 · 4 months ago

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Charro! Review

Before Elvis could start filming, numerous changes were made to the script. Everyone who has heard of this movie knows about a cut opening scene featuring female nudity as well as the director having other violent scenes cut. Elvis himself was disappointed that the script he accepted ended up changing by the time he got on set.

Fans however were disappointed for other reasons. They supposedly didn't like that Charro! only had one song. A soundtrack album couldn't even be made due to only 2 songs being recorded with one of them not even being used in the movie. Critics were also unhappy as they considered it to be a cheap attempt at a western and panned Elvis for his dull acting. But were those the real reasons why this movie is considered to be his least viewed? Did this movie genuinely fail to live up to the standards Western moves established before them, or was it judged too harshly for not living up to expectations of both Western fans and Elvis fans? Let's find out.

"Charro" is a quintessential Western intro song. The score as a whole is a hit and it wasn't a surprise at all to see Hugo Montenegro was the composer. He is after all famous for his "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" theme cover that reached the #2 spot in US charts June of 1968. I personally don't even mind that this is the only song in the movie that plays as Elvis rides a horse into town. It would've made the movie too hokey if it was stylized as a typical Elvis vehicle.

I love the town's aesthetic. The scenery throughout the whole movie is amazing and I'm so glad they filmed on location throughout Arizona and not simply use rear screen projection. Jess speaking in Spanish so the other patrons don't get hurt is a nice touch. Even though the situation was obvious, it was great to see a character moment where he didn't want to assume anything.

Billy Roy getting slapped adds a level of corny that's sprinkled throughout what's an otherwise serious film. It's very odd to have his line delivery sound the way it does then not even a minute later, Jess is being held at gunpoint to mount his horse. While it's true that even serious movies can have some comedic moments, the nature of this comedy here only feels out of place.

Jess' relationship with Vince is very odd. Vince claims that he's upset that Jess left because of Tracy but I personally don't think that's the only reason. Jess claims that he left because he felt that there was no future with Vince. I don't believe that either. There's a certain amount of complexity would give us a greater insight to their character motivations.

Vince reveals that he stole Emperor Maximilian's cannon. Now his reasoning for getting Jess Wade involved makes absolutely no sense. Vince says that one of their buddies got shot in the neck. So Jess would be framed, they put out his name and branded him so he'd have the matching scar. There are a lot of factors that would have to work in Vince's favor for this plan to work. You are more likely to die from a gunshot wound to the neck given the amount of blood vessels in that area and the lack of fat covering the area. To avoid death by blood loss, let alone infection since this is the late 1800s, you would need an act of God to help you.

Vince's plan only works because the writers says it does which leads to a lot of problems down the line. The biggest issue being that he expects everyone who sees the poster to immediately associate Jess' new scar with a gunshot wound. I know the scar is makeup and might not fully reflect the injury Jess is supposed to have, but if we're assuming what we see is what the characters see, I don't think they would see a branding scar and realistically think it's a gunshot wound. Again based on the setting, people should know what a gunshot wound would look like and how it would damage the surrounding skin. Even if they're not a doctor, they at least would have functional enough eyes to know the difference.

I love the scene of Jess taming the horse but man is it obvious at times that Elvis isn't actually riding it. However, him getting water from a muddy river is the scariest thing I've ever seen. Knowing that in real life, water like that would cause so many problems like cholera or dysentery, Jess probably is God for somehow not coming down with either of those illnesses. It's even worse when you notice that he wiped that same water on his wound. Granted a burn wound from a branding iron isn't exactly an open wound, but it still doesn't mean there's no chance of an infection. Unless the writers specifically wanted Jess to use dirty water to wipe his wounds, I would've changed how it was shot so the water didn't look obviously undrinkable.

Now what is absolutely amazing was the weather effects. Seeing Jess having to ride his horse while a dust storm is forming is incredible. I have no idea if they purposely created a dust storm or if the camera crew manage to capture the perfect moment. Either way it's nice to see that this was the real life middle of the desert as opposed to using a soundstage. Having that atmosphere really draws you into the movie. I almost wish it was filmed in that classic black in white film to really capture that old, gritty Western aesthetic.

I love Jess' relationship with Sheriff Ramsey. Even though we don't know the full details, you can tell there's some type of mentorship role involved. It's especially clear that the sheriff is meant to be a grounding figure in Jess' life given how they emphasize the numerous lectures he had to listen to. Even when the sheriff chews out Jess for getting involved with Vince again, he at least believes him when Jess said it wasn't his choice.

Now Jess' relationship with Tracy really falls flat for me. I don't even care that her nude scene is cut, they just have no chemistry. Tracy in general not trusting Jess despite kissing him makes no sense. Especially when she's going on about how Jess is worse than Vince when she doesn't even give him a chance to tell his side of things. It only makes her look flakey to have her chew Jess out and not trust him, only to give him a gun as a means of helping him. I know she's conflicted on what to believe, but it would be best to frame it as a conflict and not something she's so adamant about.

Billy Roy shows up at the saloon and I have no idea what to make of it. He acts all sinister with Marcie yet also acts like a complete ham with Jess. Everyone knows he's part of Vince's gang yet none of the men do anything about it. Tracy is the only one who outright confronts him about his presence being unwanted and Jess only gets involved when he's called out.

Sheriff Ramsey getting shot should've never happened. You mean to tell me there wasn't a single person in that saloon with a gun that could've done something? No one knows about Vince having the cannon so they should have no reason to be afraid. This is an example of an idiot plot where the plot only works because the writers purposely make everyone dumb or inactive. The men dragging Billy Roy to the jail shows just how easy it should be to deal with one person.

I have no idea why we're supposed to think Sheriff Ramsey's wounds are considered fatal. Perhaps it's because the visuals don't fully reflect the extent of his injuries since it's only makeup, but I don't think it was that bad. The "bullet wounds" to me doesn't indicate that he'll die from blood loss. If anything, he's more likely to die from the infections brought on by Opie trying to dig the bullets out.

Sheriff Ramsey swears Jess in as his deputy. The fact that there's multiple witnesses shows that this is official. Since Jess is now in charge what does he do? Actively passes out rifles to the business owners so they can protect their property. And to think most of the town doesn't trust him because he was part of Vince's gang. I can understand being wary of Jess, but once he's actively taking the time to ensure the town's safety, tensions should've gone down. Especially since literally anyone could verify with Sheriff Ramsey that he sworn Jess in himself.

It's now daybreak and we get an idea of how small Vince's gang really is. Unless there's a whole bunch of people offscreen, I can only count a total of less than 10 men including Vince and Billy Roy. Vince freaking out about his brother being gone and one of his guys saying "I didn't wanna wake youuuuu" is one of the funniest line deliveries in this movie. I can't take anything he does seriously because there's just a lot of mood whiplash between him slapping someone then immediately apologizing like nothing happened. Then again it's possible that Vince was purposely supposed to be this way as a way to showcase how scary he really is. That unlike Billy Roy, Vince is capable of having normal human emotions so showing that he's still willing to commit a significant amount of atrocities for money makes him even more dangerous.

Tracy sees Jess at the barber's shop and immediately scolds him for leaving Billy Roy unguarded and not having armed men on the roofs. I have no idea why Tracy genuinely thinks Jess is that stupid to leave Billy Roy alone and leave the rest of the town unarmed. I actually chuckled when she realized that she was wrong because it's hilarious how for someone who's supposed to love Jess, she has absolutely no faith in him.

Because this issue happens throughout the movie, I'm only going to mention it here to avoid repetition. Vince being allowed to ride freely in town is the most nonsensical thing I've ever seen. The townsfolk know that he's dangerous. There's a bunch of them and only one of him. Jess gave them guns for a reason so why aren't they using them? Unless Jess specifically gave them orders to not shoot unless fired at first, there shouldn't be anything stopping them.

The fact that he's even allowed to be in the jail shows just how unclear his status is in this town. His plan to turn that cannon onto the town if Billy Roy isn't set free only showcases that he shouldn't just be allowed to roam freely. So Jess makes the active decision to do absolutely nothing. Even if we're supposed to infer that he needs Vince alive, why couldn't he use his power as Deputy Sheriff to arrest him? He literally admitted in plain English that he's going to commit an act of terrorism against the town. I would think that is a big enough of a crime to put him in jail so he can't carry out that plan.

The Mexican Army arrives and Vince threatens to rat Jess out. Jess meanwhile, continues to do nothing but threaten him back into convincing them to leave. So Vince decides to lead the Mexican Army away from Jess by leading them right to a pass that results in them all getting blasted by a cannon fire. What's lost on me is that this whole scene was kept in despite being the most violent scene in the movie. I know that we needed to know why the Mexican Army just disappears but how can you claim to want a film that isn't very violent yet keep a scene that features a mass murder?

Meanwhile, absolutely nothing is being done to prepare for an evacuation. Sheriff Ramsey's the only one with sense by telling Jess to not be a coward and give into Vince's demands. It's funny how immediately after his wife is like "don't let my husband convince you to let him die because he can't be moved. Set Billy Roy free" as if that would solve everything. Vince turning the cannon onto the town already proved that he's someone who can't be reasoned with. There's absolutely no proof that simply letting his brother go would make him not attack the town. Evacuating the town is the easiest solution to have Jess not give in and let a potential terrorist get what he wants.

It's honestly incredible how Jess is the one who's blamed when Sheriff Ramsey is killed by falling debris, when Vince is right there in front of them. Vince is the one who can tell his men to not fire. Vince is the one who gave them the ultimatum to let Billy Roy go when his actions got the sheriff injured in the first place. But no it's all Jess' fault. If you're going to blame Jess for anything, blame him for not doing anything to stop Vince when he was well within his power as the Deputy Sheriff to do something.

Mrs. Ramsey bringing out the posters as if he's a liar the whole time is pointless. No one in the town except Sheriff Ramsey ever fully trusted him, so bringing out the poster doesn't change anything. If anything it should show how irrational she is from grief because she actually believes it to be true without questioning anything. Tracy even buys into this idea despite supposedly loving him that it makes me not care that she apologized. I feel nothing for their relationship because even though she kisses him, at the end of the day, she didn't have his back when he needed it.

Despite Jess being gone, Mrs. Ramsey still thinks he's a rat when the cannon still fires on the town. What makes it even worse is that, she herself says that Billy Roy being let go might result in the cannon fire ending. Meaning despite being so adamant that Jess should rot for not letting him go, even she isn't sure about it ending. And yet after all this cannon fire, no one leaves town. The amount inaction when there doesn't need to be is so baffling. Unless Vince somehow has invisible guards keeping everyone but Jess and Billy Roy in the town, there's no reason for them to still be there.

It's now night time and Jess has Billy Roy handcuffed around some tree branches. I love the amount of tension in this showdown. The look in Jess' eyes when he sees the cannon rolling down into Billy Roy is amazing acting. Even though the whole series of events that resulted in Billy Roy's death could've been executed better, it doesn't take away from the genuine look of helplessness on Jess' face. As soon as he took in what was happening, he knew there was nothing he can do to stop it. And he felt absolutely guilty about. It once again shows that just because Jess is this stoic character, he's not a man who is completely unable of expressing emotion.

As much as I understand people thinking it's weak for Vince to still be alive at the end of the movie, this was the best way to go. When you look at his relationship with his brother, you know that the worst thing you can do to him is to let him live. Forcing Vince to live with the guilt that his actions caused Billy Roy to die, would be an even better comeuppance than simply killing him. Plus Jess realistically still needs Vince alive so he can have his name cleared of all charges. Killing him wouldn't have helped him accomplish that. On the opposite side, I love how Vince curses out Jess Wade but when he sees the man right in front of him, he does nothing. It shows that Vince is so broken by this death, that killing Jess wouldn't have changed anything. It wouldn't have brought his brother back. So he gives up knowing he has nothing left to live for.

I don't like how the townsfolk all apologize because it feels forced. Mrs. Ramsey especially going as far as to kiss Jess leaves a bad taste in my mouth since she was the reason why everyone ganged up on Jess in the first place. Even Tracy's part feels forced because of how she didn't show a level of loyalty that would make a happy ending feel earned. At least Jess got to ride off into the proverbial sunset knowing his name will be cleared.

The sad thing about this movie is that it had a lot of chances to be good. The concept of a man having to clear his name over a crime he didn't commit is a classic story for a reason. The problem is that the path the writers chose to get there had more holes than the town Vince attacked. It's incredible how one little detail can result in so much chaos. I'm well aware that a novelization exists, but since it was released separately from the movie, I'm not including that in my opinion. To me, a novelization of a movie shouldn't have to make up for details that weren't included in the movie.

Despite all of my criticisms, I still give this movie an 8/10. Even though some of the acting is corny, Elvis' portrayal of Jess Wade is amazing. I know it's a common criticism that Elvis' acting was flat. That. Was. The. Point. Jess is meant to contrast the chaotic nature that is Vince and Billy Roy because he's a man that has done wrong in the past but now wants to better himself. So why do I think this movie failed compared to Elvis' more musical ones? It's because it's a victim of circumstances. Westerns have been done to death and Clint Eastwood was the biggest contemporary name in that genre since John Wayne. Even though Elvis did a great job, he just didn't stand a chance because the heart of what makes a good Western story was lost.

An: Thank you @xanatenshi for requesting this. I understand why he has a following since Elvis did a great job portraying him. If I didn't tag you and you left a note on my previous reviews, please let me know and I'll be sure to tag you for Jess Wade's rank and my next review announcement.

Tagging: @whositmcwhatsit, @hooked-on-elvis, @smokeymountainboy, @atleastpleasetelephone, @stitchlover0112,

@tupelomiss, @vintagepresley, @eapep, @almightybigbrain, @coltswael,

@cieloestrelladoluna, @huhhhhsthings, @arrolyn1114, @peaceloveelvis, @peskybedtime,

@mercsandmonsters, @tacozebra051, @valloos, @ilovequeen978, @elvisvideos,

@presleyhearted, @depressedfairie, @kawaiiwitchy, @swingdownsweetchariot, @ruggednessworld,

@southcarolinawoman, @atrophyingaphrodite, @jrbrandi13, @summer56, @elvismylove04,

@eptodaytommorowforever, @lookingforrainbows, @araiarts, @fharysa, @lett-them-eatt-cake,

@fryb0rg, @wanderlustingtomboy, @slayingjd, @wildhorseinkansas, @somethingaboutelvis,

@jhoneybees, @elvisbooty76, @iloveelvisss, @presleyheart, @anakinsvault,

@illtakeyouhomeagain, @callieselvisobsessed, @50sexyshadesfashionista, @memphisflash, @arianatheangel-girl,

@madslovesmaws, @lucy114505, @presleygarden, @earthbaby-angelboy and @nicferg068.

#charro!#jess wade #elvis film review #1969

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theatomicpoweredsinger · 1 year ago

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Elvis on location in Arizona for National General Pictures' “Charro!” in August 1968.

#Elvis Presley #Elvis #1960s #60s #1968 #Charro!

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bunnydexterloveselvis · 9 months ago

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My ECU husband list because I'm bored (this is partially a joke) (please don't send hate I'm beggin) (might update if this gets a bunch of notes)

Dr. John Carpenter (Change of Habit, 1969) <3

Husband qualities:

-good with kids

-smart

-doctor (he can heal you)

-hot!!!!

-not perfect but he tries his best

-sings very well plays the guitar!! (good for bedroom time ;) )

-clean, he keeps his hair combed, face shaved, and skin and nails washed. i bet he smells nice. if he don't use cologne then you would smell hand soap probably. idk i feel like he's a compulsive hand washer (ocd??????? idfk)

-cozy and nice fashion sense

-genuinely wants to help people in need

-did i mention hot (look at the way he's staring you down in the above pic. lawdy!!)

Jess Wade (Charro!, 1969) (current brainrot as of writing this) <3

Husband qualities:

-pretty smart

-hot as hell!!!!!!!!!!

-cowboy (save a horse ride a cowboy)

-beard (sorry this gets a category on its own)

-can be mean when needed to and can protect himself

-good lord he has a veryyy high pain tolerance (good for bedroom time ;) )

-scars (some people like that right?? i do. someone please hear me out)

-i feel like he has a high body temperature so if you ever get cold he is there to warm you

-also fashion sense (he's a cowboy)

-is a sheriff so he can protect you (can protect you in general honestly)

-good lord he is hot!!!!!!!!!! sorry

-daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy-

-rough and would probably slap you if you wanted him to (also good for bedroom time ;) )

Ross Carpenter (GIrls! Girls! Girls!, 1962) <3

Husband qualities:

-smart

-h h h hh hot

-fisherman, he can bring food to the table

-he can cook full-blown meals!!! like dinner and breakfast and stuff!!! just imagine him cooking dinner for you.. i wouldn't know what to do! now who's gonna write the fic?? /hj

-young (ehh i mean whatever i love dilfs but ross is hot af)

-knows how to operate a boat

-can fight and protect

-sings!! very well actually!!! he can sing upbeat and happy, to slow and sultry, to, well, anything really!!

-knows how to treat a woman right

-can dance, normal upbeat dancing, or tango-like slow dancing

-btw did you see that "walls have ears" scene?? look down. good lord it isn't big it's huge (good for bedroom time ;) )

-pretty good with kids. he can tolerate them at least. if they listen well

-a bit protective actually

-love love love the shirts and pants he wears. and that hat. oh god i love him so much

OVERALL QUALITIES

-pretty smart

-hot n sexy af!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! good lord!!!!!!

-have jobs

-great fashion sense

-pretty good with kids

-outstanding in the bedroom

-can sing and/or play guitar

-unique in their own way

-all have their own imperfections but still try their best (lookin at you jess /lh)

-overall pretty loveable and husband material

-blue eyes and long eyelashes (yes this gets its own point. i like eyes. esp blue or brown eyes. and they twinkle at the right spot, oh yes im on my knees. love your eyes sm honey)

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perfectpresley · 2 years ago

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Elvis behind the scenes of Charro! (1969)

#elviswithabeard #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis fans #elvis film #elvis history #elvis presley #elvis songs #elvis the king #elvis 2022 #elvis music #elvis pictures #60s elvis #70s elvis #handsomeeeee #charro!#cowboy

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starboybutler · 1 year ago

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Poor Boy ( CH. 1 )

summary: Jess Wade finds an injured boy on his property one day.

word count: 3060

warnings: violence, kidnapping, anxiety

notes: decided to start posting my multichapter clint/jess fic to tumblr and not just on a03! i hardly post over here so this should be a treat for my three followers here (also bc i wanna use these cute cowboy dividers i found). i'm already three chapters deep into this story, and currently working on the fourth- so i'll upload the rest of the chapters sometime this week to space em out a lil. in the meantime, please enjoy chapter one!

chapter 1 (you are here)

chapter 2

chapter 3 (coming soon)

jess wade was fifteen years old when he first saw his name on a wanted poster.

his mom was devastated beyond belief. she nocouldn't even begin to think that her little boy was running around with a group of troublemakers, looting and vandalizing and stealing- but that wanted poster stuck out in their small town like a sore thumb.

the people were outraged that a delinquent was in their town, ruining their reputation and committing petty crimes like it was a fun after school hobby. they never liked jess much, even before they knew he was stealing, honestly. he always heard the town gossiping to his momma about how she should take him to a doctor because 'something wasn't right’ with him.

jess never paid them any mind, all he needed was his momma.

but when that wanted poster showed up, he lost her too. she yelled at him, which she had never done before- and jess felt his heart shatter into pieces.

that's the last time he remembers crying.

the town shooed him out, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a horse to get around. at least they were nice enough for that.

but he wasn't completely alone, even then. he still had vince, who he'd committed the petty crimes with. vince didn't have his mom or dad either. he ran away a long while ago, and began his side gig of stealing from small towns wherever he could find them. when he found jess’s town, he saw jess sitting on the porch and scrubbing away at his only good pair of shoes, trying to get the dirt out of them.

vince approached him and said he needed help getting something back. said a kid in this town stole his money and he wouldn't give it up, so he had to go take it by force.

he chose jess because he was mean looking- tough. he was an outsider, even in his small hometown, and that was just fine with him.

jess knew he was stealing, but he went along with it anyway. to this day, he doesn't know what possessed him to join that lanky ginger kid.

eventually he cut vince off, but that damn vince hackett still knows how to get under jess’s skin like a goddamn bug.

after the messiness of getting out of the bond he had with vince, jess decided that he was better off alone. he didn't need anyone. all he needed was his horse- and even then he could replace that. he just needed to stay on the outskirts of any town, far away from anyone and anything.

jess hummed to himself quietly as he poured grain into his horse’s feeder, gently petting his nose as he leaned down to eat. his horse truly was the only thing he cared about anymore.

jess set down the grain and wiped at his forehead, exhaling as he turned on his heel towards the exit of the barn. just as he stepped into the sun, the familiar sound of a gunshot echoed loudly in his ears.

he'd heard gunshots more times than he could count. he would hear them at any time of day, but for them to be this close to his cabin was unusual. had vince found him again?

jess reached for the gun on his hip, placing his hand on it as he stalked out of the stables and into the hot sun, observing his surroundings carefully. nothing looked out of place. no suspicious figures on the horizon, no horses, no nothing. just the land, like it always is.

jess moved his hand away from his gun and hummed lowly, rolling his shoulders back. wherever it came from, it wasn't his problem. nothing ever was anymore.

he began to walk towards his cabin, but something in his gut told him to turn around. he glanced behind his shoulder, and saw an unusual lump on the ground a little ways in the distance.

a person.

jess spun around and quickly made his way over to the body, standing over it and staring at it, dumbfounded.

it was a boy.

he looked to be a teen, maybe eighteen or nineteen maybe. his hair was blonde, but dirty and matted with dried blood and dirt, and his skin was pale. save for the fading flush on his cheeks from the blistering heat. his clothes were ripped and stained, and jess could faintly see scratch marks and ripping on his clothes from a struggle. jess knelt down and gently pressed his fingers on the boy’s neck, feeling for a pulse.

it was there, but it was awfully faint. jess furrowed his brow in thought, looking over the boy once more.

he was in bad shape. there was a chance that even if jess took him to get help, he’d die before he could even begin to recover. on the other hand, it never hurt to try, just a little. it never hurt to have a little hope.

without a second thought, jess gently took the blonde boy into his arms bridal style, trying not to jostle his head too much as he headed towards his secluded cabin. he had some supplies laying around in his room for emergencies, maybe he could patch him up well enough for a few days or so.

jess kicked his door open and sat the unconscious boy on his shoddily made couch, jogging to get his supplies from under his bed. he set everything down on his coffee table and exhaled through his

nose, grabbing some gauze and pressing it to the wound on his head gently, sopping up any blood that was still dribbling out.

the boy twitched weakly, and jess cursed to himself as he swabbed up any blood. this wasn't going to be perfect, but jess wasn't a doctor- it didn't need to be perfect. this boy just needed to survive.

jess grabbed the bandages and wrapped the wound tightly, cutting it short with his teeth and tucking it under the others so it stayed in place. he began dabbing the other wounds and wrapping them in the same fashion, holding his breath as he prayed that this boy didn't die on his couch.

as jess wrapped up the last wound on his arm, he looked over the boy once more.

he was barely breathing, but he looked a little less pale. he was sweating bullets, shaking and twitching from the shock of whatever happened to him. his eyes were screwed shut, tears running down his cheek every once in a while.

jess sighed softly, reaching to the side of him and pulling a blanket over the boy as he twitched and trembled in his sleep. jess decided that trying to wake him up now wouldn't be the smartest thing to do. he’d probably scare the boy out of his mind and send him into shock again. the kid just needed to rest, they could talk when he woke up.

as for jess, he needed to freshen up after handling this boy’s beaten up body. his clothes were stained and dirtied now.

jess lifted his chin, gently dragging the razor across his neck carefully. he let his facial hair get a little out of hand lately.

the seasons were changing, so he didn't have to go into town as often as he used to. the heat was dying down ever so slightly- so his crops weren't dying as often. he could survive for a few months without having to go visit the sheriff for some goods. the sweets his wife made were good for storing up when he needed it, but the ride was draining.

he set the razor down and washed the remaining shaving cream off of his face, dabbing his face dry with an old towel as he sighed deeply. the boy had yet to move on the couch, but his breathing had evened out, and he had stopped shaking. he seemed to just be in a deep sleep now.

hopefully he woke up soon. jess had a lot of questions about his whole ordeal.

jess turned and placed his hat back on his head, freezing in his steps as he saw the boy sitting up on the couch. he looked dazed, his eyes fixed on his dirty hands and tattered clothes. the poor thing seemed like he was still in shock.

jess carefully took a step forward, and the blonde’s head snapped up towards him. his eyes were big and blue, glassy with unshed tears. jess held up a hand in front of him, setting his jaw.

“i know you're confused,” he starts slowly, his voice firm. “but i ain't the one that hurt ya.”

the blonde blinked, looking away from him and staring at his filthy hands once more. he seemed so out of it- almost like he wasn't even sure he was real or not. it was creepy.

“i shot him,” the boy spoke hoarsely, before breaking into a harsh coughing fit. the poor thing probably hasn't had a drink for god knows how long. jess rushed to the sink and filled a glass with water, pressing the cool glass into the blonde's trembling hands.

“drink something,” jess muttered, guiding the drink to his lips.

the boy obeyed almost mindlessly. when he got that first taste of water, he was gulping it down quickly like it was the last time he’d ever get to drink anything.

the boy exhaled loudly as he finished the water, reaching to messily wipe at his mouth, smearing dirt on his face. jess would have reached and wiped it off, but he didn't want to startle him even more. the boy’s hands were bandaged. were those bandages there when he found him?

“better?” jess asked, setting the glass to the side and raising an eyebrow.

the boy nodded ever so slightly. he sat and stared at the ground, before large tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his dirty cheeks, wetting his shirt. his body shook as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, palming at them desperately to stop the tears.

jess had never been good at dealing with emotions. his own, or others. he found them to be too complicated, and he rid himself of any feelings long ago, when he was young. the people in his town called him heartless when he shed no tears at funerals, or when he didn't smile at the get-togethers. that's just who he was. life was easier that way- and no one understood but him.

“i dunno what i did wrong,” the boy started, his body trembling as he sat up, trying to compose himself. “i-i was jus’ doin’ chores for ma, in the fields, and then,”

his eyes darken, and he clutches at his head like he's in agony.

“th-they snatched me up- t-took me away an’...they tried to….and i shot ‘em.” the blonde hiccuped frantically, tugging at the matted hair on his head.

jess quickly grabbed his wrist, pulling it away from his head as gently as he could manage. the boy’s hands twitched in his grasp, and he weakly tried to pull away before he gave in, his body much too weak to put up any fight.

“don't be yankin’ and pullin’ at your head like that,” jess scolds softly, letting his wrist go. “you're gonna hurt yourself more. it's a miracle you're even alive.” he said bluntly.

the boy looked away, his eyes still dark as his hand balled into his pants, tears threatening to spill from his eyes again.

“why'd you save me?”

jess set his jaw. hell, he didn't even know why he saved this boy. a near-dead body was a common sight where he lived, in the middle of nowhere. it was common for people to dump and leave bodies for dead around here, and jess would ride and walk past them like they were nothing but another rock in the sand.

but when he saw this blonde boy on the verge of death, something gripped at his heart and he couldn't walk away from him. he didn't know what that feeling was when he saw him. maybe jess did it because he genuinely felt bad.

“i don't know.” jess admitted, adjusting his hat. “but i just knew i couldn't leave you to die out here. especially not on my property,”

the boy swallowed and just nodded, just looking absolutely defeated. it wasn't fair, someone so young having to go through something like this. jess knew that feeling.

he crouched next to the boy, finding his eyes under the bangs of his messy locks. “let's get you some clean clothes.”

“okay,”

jess wandered to his room and opened his drawer. he didn't have many clothes, as it was just him, and he didn't really go anywhere. he did still have some old clothes that didn't really fit him anymore, back when he was in his early twenties…but the boy obviously didn't want to get dressed in a whole get up right now.

he eventually settled on an oversized sleep dress he had laying around. it was a little faded, but other than that it didn't have any tears or holes in it.

he walked back into the living area and tossed the sleep dress onto the couch. the boy picked it up and observed it, before muttering out a small ‘thanks’.

“need help getting dressed?”

“no,” the boy said quickly, clutching the fabric to his chest. “get out.”

“alrighty,” jess hummed, confused by the sudden hostility. maybe he was just self conscious. jess could sympathize somewhat, he didn't like people seeing him shirtless much either. he was almost always wearing about three layers of clothes.

he shut his bedroom door behind him to let the boy get dressed, but not even a second later he heard a loud cry from the living area.

he opened the door and saw the boy clutching his side, his face screwed up in pain as he laid on his side, the sleep dress sprawled on the floor. jess slowly approached him, his hand held out.

“you sure you don't-”

“i’m fine, damn it.” the boy hissed, obviously embarrassed, sitting up slowly. “i just…ugh-”

“i’m not gonna do nothin’ to hurt you.” jess states firmly, looking the boy in the eyes. “i’ll help you get dressed, and then i’ll leave you alone if you want.”

the blonde stared at him, as if searching for an ounce of proof that he was lying, before muttering in agreement. “fine,”

jess gently grabbed the boy and sat him up with ease, slowly beginning to unbutton his tattered shirt. he slid it off of his arms and put it to the side, moving to undo the button of his pants.

the boy squirmed, and jess looked up at him. his face was pink, and he was looking off to the side as jess slid his pants off slowly, as to not hurt him. he suddenly reached down, swatting jess’s hands away and fumbling with his pants.

“i can do this part,” he mutters, kicking his pants off.

jess shrugs and grabs the sleep dress, rolling it up as he stands. “arms up, if you can.”

the blonde lifts his arms as much as he can, groaning as he feels the wound on his side shift. jess presses a hand to his shoulder to stop him, moving to slip the garment over his head and arms the best he can.

it was a bit of a struggle, but he eventually maneuvered it to get over his head.

while the boy wiggles into the sleep gown, jess’s eyes rake over his body curiously. he's covered in bruises, which wouldn't be concerning, considering the state he found him in, if they weren't old bruises. some of them were small, purple blotches, others were deep purple or even greenish-, mostly along his legs. his chest was untouched, pale and smooth. they were obviously caused by someone hitting him- but the question was who-. maybe they were caused by the struggle earlier, with whoever he supposedly shot. the gown dropped suddenly and jess looked up at the boy, who was droopy eyed.

“i…thanks.” he mutters, curling himself into a ball, pulling his knees to his chest, looking away. “i, uh…’m real sorry for everything. i’m just not right in the head right now,”

“i know,” jess says. “you've been through some stuff.” he mutters. “i won't make you talk about it until you're ready.”

“i appreciate that,” he mutters, his cheeks flushing slightly.

the kid was well mannered when he wasn't freaking out. jess appreciated that.

jess’s lip curled up slightly, and he tilted his head. “what's your name, kid?”

the boy set his jaw, fidgeting nervously as he answered quietly. “clinton. clinton reno.” he answers softly, his eyes darting up to jess. “you can call me clint,”

“clint,” jess says, standing and gestures to the kitchen. “hungry? i can whip something up.”

the boy- clint- shakes his head, grabbing the blanket tightly and laying back on his side with heavy eyes. “no, i’m…i'm really tired.”

“alright,” jess hums, adjusting his hat. “you get some rest. i’ll be here in the morning.”

clint nods and shuts his eyes, falling asleep almost immediately afterward. jess blows out the candle and heads towards his room, shutting the door quietly.

he sat on his bed, sighing heavily. this might be a lot more than he bargained for. if this reno boy had really shot someone, there wasn't no way the constable wasn't gonna come looking for him. he suspected he'd get a visit from sheriff ramsey soon, but he could lie to him easily enough. he hated to do it, but if he had to, he would.

he laid back and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes falling shut as his mind began to run. what was he going to to with this boy once he was healed up? that wouldn't be for a while. it was already come fall time, and he would probably be a wanted man in a few days, so it's not like he could send him off on his lonesome- but jess only had living space for one person.

jess fell asleep with an image of clint crying fresh on his mind.

#austin!elvis x y/n #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #clint reno #jess wade #charro!#love me tender #elvis cinematic universe

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vintagepresley · 1 year ago

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Love, Betrayal, and Vengeance

Annie Brooks gets involved with an ex outlaw named Jess Wade, the two fall in love and soon Annie learns of Jess Wade's true nature. He betrays her and sells her off to one of the biggest outlaws in the west for a large sum of money. Jess soon regrets that decision when he realizes he's actually fallen in love with Annie. But it's too late when he goes back for her. Her mind and her heart are set on getting vengeance to every man that harmed her while she was with Billy Roy and Jess Wade is at the top of her list.

#elvis presley #jess wade #oc reader #charro!#I'M SCREAMING AT HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS #thank you to my love of Quentin Tarantino and his love of spaghetti westerns for this inspo #please give me your feedback on this!

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99point9percentwhump · 1 year ago

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AMOW 2023 day 11 - Branding

#amow winter whumperland 2023 #day 11 #branding #cauterization #pain #vintage whump #charro!

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hooked-on-elvis · 2 months ago

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i just have a few things to say. late 1968, right... you go see elvis home and patiently yet anxiously waits for him at his gates like it's any other day...*yeah, right pff* ... but it's been a while since you last saw him in person. suddenly he comes out looking like this:

look at this! this is pure '68 comeback special with a bonus!

one look at him looking like that and i swear... either i would pass out right then and there or i would runaway for dear life because i would totally forget how to breath!

oh elvis... there's only so much a woman can stand.

my conclusion is: Charro! was a movie, doesn't matter the story or anything else, worth multiple visits to the theater.

#elvis with a beard is a whole different era #how can a girl seriously not feel wobbly legs at seeing elvis presley with a beard?#such a sight to behold #too much sir... too much. no one gave you the right.#i wanna scream so bad #like 🫠🫠🫠#elvis presley #elvis history #elvis movies #charro!#elvis #60s elvis #elvis the king

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mad-over-elvis · 2 years ago

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Don't go...

#i like this kinda super vintage edit #elvis presley #elvis aaron presley #elvis 60s #elvis 2022 #charro #charro 1969 #charro!#elvis fans #elvisaaronpresley #elvis films #elvis movies #cowboy elvis #elvis gifs #mad over elvis #gifs

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thatbanditqueen · 9 months ago

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An Ode to Ina

I actually don't know if I think Ina is a good actress. I watched From the Terrace about 20 years ago when I went through my Paul Newman phase and she was kinda of forgettable, but then, the whole movie was, imho. I definitely feel she got a bum deal landing parts with great costars in films that have fallen to the wayside of our popular culture bin. Remember The Comancheros? Yeah, like From the Terrace, neither do I.

But lately I have been going through a Charro! phase as one does and I find myself memorized by her. She has one of those faces with features that seem oddly large and more pronounced than is normal, which makes her look weird and yet alluring at the same time. She strikes me as a women with similar facial features to Sophia Loren, an actress who she actually starred with in The Black Orchid, another film with amazing costars that yeah, no one ever talks about.....

Anyway, life has been a trainwreck rollercoaster for me the last month but thank god it is the weekend and I finally feel like I can breath. And as I stare at Ina's publicity shots with Elvis and imagine I am her, there, with his scruffy beard rubbing against my chin, and then find myself falling into Google holes searching for an easy history lesson on who she was and what was in her soul, I thought I would share a few of my favorite photos. I don't know enough about her to say this is a comprehensive tribute or even a fair ode to her. Rather this is the beginning of a tribute to her that I thought I should add to the swirling either of tumblr.

#ina balin #1937 - 1990 #midcentury pop culture #charro!#from the terrace!#the black orchid!#i want her eyebrows #and a lesson in winged tips #adding her to my catalog of all the Jewesses Elvis made out with even if only in movies #for science purposes

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deke-rivers-1957 · 3 months ago

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Kung Fu Elvis Part 4

If you're new to this series, the point of this is to find out which Elvis character is the best fighter given an uninterrupted hand to hand combat styled fight. The goal is to rank each individual Elvis character and then within each tier determine who would win against who.

How I plan on determining this will be by finding each character's age, size and general background. How well a character does in on screen fights will also be considered but analyzed on a case by case basis. Sometimes an Elvis character loses a fight simply because it's a comedy, or due to the low quality stage fighting wins because his opponents are laughably weak.

At the end of the day this is all headcanon as these are all fictional characters. If you disagree with how I rank a character I would love to hear your thoughts on where you would put them.

While it isn't specifically stated, Change of Habit takes place in 1969. Sister Irene even being in the same sisterhood and being allowed to share housing with Sisters Michelle and Barbara who are both white is a sign this is after the Civil Rights Act of 1968. That law specifically cracks on discrimination regarding housing meaning it would be against the law to disallow Sister Irene from rooming with her white Sisters. Any issues regarding Sister Irene's race is seen at a de facto level since just because a law is past, doesn't mean everyone's attitudes immediately change to reflect it. Amanda canonically having autism and Dr. Carpenter using a rage reduction therapy also indicates this is 1969 at the earliest. Robert Zaslow's practice of using this therapy doesn't take off on a widespread level until the 1970s, but since no one else seemed to know about the therapy it's safe to assume this was when it was still in its infancy. Despite being a doctor, he's not necessarily comfortably well off because he works in an under privileged neighborhood. Clinics like the one we see didn't exactly get that much money compared to state/federally funded hospitals, so it's very possible for him to have to pay for medical supplies out of his own pocket. While he wouldn't have exactly starved since this town wasn't a food desert, it isn't out of the question to assume he had to keep his meals very simple. And since fitness culture as we know it wouldn't exist for about another decade, there was no need for him to have well defined muscles.

I'm making a revision on John's age. In my tidbit I said that I was making him an even 30 years old to reflect how long medical school takes. After going back and really thinking about the line where he explains why he became a doctor, I need to make a change. John mentions that he became a doctor as a way to pay it forward after his army sergeant saved his life. Since John specifically said this sergeant was killed on the other side of the world, the most likely assumption is that he was killed in a war. My best guess is that based on the amount of time John could be in the army and become a medical doctor, John would've served during the Korean War. Given that Elvis himself was born in 1935, John would actually need to be older than Elvis by at least a few months for this to be possible. Therefore, Dr. John Carpenter is at least 35 years old.

A Blue Hawaii movie poster appearing in the background strongly indicates that this was in 1962. Blue Hawaii came out in November, 1961. Since Christmas is literally never mentioned as being any time soon, you can assume this was after the New Year. No one needing so much as a windbreaker while over open waters indicates it's at least March. In fact, in the scene where Ross and Laurel are staying at the Yung family's house during the night, there's heavy rain. That type of heavy rain in Honolulu typically occurs between October and April with the summer months being relatively dry. The fishing season for tuna in particular takes place between March and August. You even see Ross try to help land a marlin at the beginning and they can be found in Hawaiian waters all year. However, because you only see them trying to catch one once, you get the idea that this is outside of their peak fishing season which is purely during the summer. Ross having the connections that he does with the Stavros family and the Yung family keeps him from being completely on his own. Even if he didn't have their help regarding a job and shelter, he's right by open waters. The native Hawaiians lasted a significantly long period of time fishing on a personal level, so at the very least Ross will not be at a risk of starving. If anything if a lot of Ross' meals contained properly prepared tuna, it would actually be very beneficial to his health. Tuna is one of the best foods a man can consume to not only reduce his risk of heart disease, but is also a great source of protein which promotes muscle growth (which is an important factor to consider when talking about the science behind fighting).

Like I said in my tidbit, I don't really have that many clues about how old Ross would be. We only get an indication of his past through a non-descript account of what happened. We don't know how much time has passed since his mother died, only that it was after he was born. Maternal mortality rates being relatively high in the 1930s doesn't make things easier when determining a specific year. His dad dying while talked about as if it was a recent enough event also doesn't help because nothing is specific. If Ross is able to work in a night club, and has been working for on a fishing boat for a long enough period of time yet not have the savings to buy the boat back himself, he has to be pretty young. Ross has never mentioned being in the military which would make him around the same age as Elvis. When you look at the draft numbers by year, once the Korean War ended, draft rates are pretty low. If the possibility of him being drafted isn't even a consideration, Ross would've had to turn 18 in late 1953 or later. For it to still not be a consideration Ross would have to be older than 25 since that's the Selective Service cutoff. Therefore, Ross is in his mid to late 20s.

My tidbit went into a lot of detail regarding the history of the Southwest and Mexico. One thing I will edit is that we can no longer assume this takes place in Tucson. I've since found signs found on a couple businesses that says the town's name is Rio Seco. Even though there are apartment complexes in Tucson with that name, this town is most likely fictional. What I didn't even consider is the type of guns that the characters use. Assuming the props seen are accurately depicting what is meant to happen, we can use these to determine a range of time. As a reminder the initial range that I used as a starting point is 1867-1910. So for the revolvers used, they were Colt Single Action Army Civilian models. Since it's defined as having a 4.75 inch barrel and .45 cartridge this type of gun would've entered the civilian market in 1874. Most rifles shown are 1892 Winchesters and are described as being a .38-40 caliber, making it an original design. Therefore, we'll just put this movie between the late 1890s and early 1910s. Since a small desert town like that wouldn't have significant changes from year to year, Jess' living conditions that I mentioned in my tidbit wouldn't change. Maybe if he comes back to town as the new sheriff, there's a reduced chance of starving but it still wouldn't be enough to promote adequate muscle growth.

I have no choice but to stick with what I guessed in my tidbit. Unless someone has more information from reading the book, I just don't have the information to make a better guess. I don't have the knowledge on how old you have to be to be sheriff in that time period. Even if I did, it Jess wasn't officially elected so his actual age wouldn't be a factor in that decision. The only confirmation I have to my guess is that the timeline would add up for Jess to have some familiarity to the Emperor's failed campaign in 1867 and still be in his early 30s.

I'm genuinely amazed that when looking up female bullfighters, Dolores was actually ahead of her time. Unless this movie's trying to tell us it really takes place before the Spanish Civil War, Dolores being an extremely famous female bullfighter is fictional. The Spanish Civil War was in the 1930s and many Spanish speaking countries had women banned from the sport. Unless there's a matadora that I'm not aware of Mexico didn't even have a matadora that famous until 2010. I have no idea who Dolores is meant to be a reference to since the only female bullfighters from the same time period as the movie were American. Figuring out where and when the former Duke and Margarita lost their peerage titles wouldn't help either since most abolished monarchies in Europe occurred during the 1940s or well after the movie was made. What is indisputable though is that Mike stays at the Acapulco Hilton Hotel which is still open as the Emporio Acapulco Hotel. This specific hotel opened in 1962 meaning it would have to take place around then as well. Given that trapeze artists still had relative success in the 1960s and need a specific diet, Mike would've had light, protein rich regular meals.

Like I said in my tidbit, we simply don't have enough clues on Mike's age outside of the obvious. Mike not getting a work VISA had nothing to do with his age since you can be as young as 15 and get one. Mike is obviously older than 15. For simplicity's sake the drinking age in all of Mexico is 18. Meaning they will not sell you alcohol if you don't prove you're 18 or older. Since Mike isn't noticeably carded for age verification, we can at the very least assume he's over 18 years old. Mike being part of a family trapeze act and a cliff diver doesn't necessarily help us either since there's no specific age requirement that would break this down any further. Only thing I can say is that for Olympic sport climbers, the average man is about 26 years old. I specified sport climber because it's the closest equivalent to Mike having to climb up the side of a cliff. So if we statistically label 26 years old as around a man's peak, we can assume Mike is around this age.

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John is the oldest Elvis character both based on how he's writing and based on how Change of Habit was his last movie. Being 35 means he would be at a big age disadvantage. Since I'm using MMA standards to determine a man's physical peak, John is well beyond that. Also look at his opponents: he punched an overweight man who looked old enough to be a senior citizen and his lackeys but the way it was portrayed felt very lackluster, and he disarmed Julio which doesn't even count.

I know I put him in C tier but the more I look at him, John is not capable of handling an official fight. He's so skinny that I highly doubt his ability to take a punch against someone a lot stronger than him. Also look at his stamina. Despite being a former military man, John is shown as being winded playing football with children. John might be able to get lucky hits in and can beat old people but he stands no chance against those who are younger than him. He's in D tier simply because he's not even close to being physically capable of beating better opponents.

Ross has little variety in his opponents. Only a severely drunk man and Mr. Johnson who's about John's age. I know it's a matter of what the story dictates but Ross being able to dodge a drunk man's attack indicates that he has at least some reflexes. Being in his mid-late 20s puts him at his peak where he has the right combination of strength and experience. Even though he fought an older man twice, he was able to beat him twice. Fighting the same opponent more than once can be a disadvantage if you're not as skilled because your opponent would've had the ability to counteract any surprises. Ross beating Mr. Johnson twice is a sign that his first win was more than luck. He had to have a genuine amount of skill to win given that Mr. Johnson was outright expecting a fight of some kind.

Ross is a great example of how you can be skilled without having direct training. Working on a boat allowed Ross to build up some muscle in his upper body and walking/running everywhere (especially on uneven terrain) built up his leg muscles as well. One aspect of fighting that really works to Ross' advantage is footwork and balance. Being on a boat in the open waters is as unstable as you can get outside of being in a severe earthquake. If you can handle that without losing your balance or getting sick, a fight on a flat surface should be easy. Easily a B tier fighter since his footwork gives him an advantage against other "common man" opponents.

Jess doesn't have a single fight that would count under my rules. You don't bring weapons to a fist fight and that's what we're determining. Jess slamming Billy Roy's head into the jail cell's bar or punching him after he shot the sheriff doesn't even count as fights since Billy Roy wasn't in any position to fight back on both occasions.

When you consider that he comes from a completely different time period where food was a bit more scarce; he's older than 30 which puts him past his peak; and he doesn't have a single onscreen fist fight win under his belt, Jess would be at a huge disadvantage. I'll have to update Clint's rank in my final list based on my choice to include Does Not Apply since he comes from even earlier in time than Jess. It simply isn't fair to put people from the 1860s in fights against people from ~100 years in the future when society as a whole has changed.

Moreno is his only fight but his physical activity more than makes up for it. There was no cheap shot, one punch knock situation. This was a clean fist fight. He's a trapeze artist and was able to successfully attempt one of the most dangerous cliff dives in the world without ever officially training for it. The upper body strength from being a trapeze artist would give him a big advantage when generating a strong swing.

I know I just said physical activity more than makes up for only having one fight, but that's only in regards to even giving him a rank. You know that he's physically capable of putting an opponent down. I'd say he's about equal to Ross and would put him in B tier. I think between the two, Ross might be slightly younger and has a more well rounded strength that serves him better in in a fist fight.

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To summarize this part:

Ross is in B tier.

Mike W. is in B tier below Ross.

Dr. John Carpenter is in D tier.

Jess simply DNA and will not get an official rank.

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#kung fu elvis #jess wade #dr. carpenter #mike windgren #ross carpenter #charro!#change of habit #fun in acapulco #girls! girls! girls!

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