#is that johnny and brackett are more similar than different

[topaz-eyes]

I wrote Johnny/Brackett for Yuletide, so I got to ponder how a potential romantic relationship between them might work. I agree with Johnny's and Brackett's character similarities for sure. I think that Brackett sees a lot of himself in Johnny too, some of which rubs him the wrong way--which might account for some of Brackett's initial dislike of Johnny at the beginning of the show.

Though I would also say Johnny/Brackett is imho not a ship that can sail successfully until a few things happen. Luckily, most of those are covered in the episodes.

Like, Brackett successfully overcomes his initial "paramedics are inferior" attitude, and he comes to genuinely like and respect his paramedics, especially Roy and Johnny. Brackett is very empathetic and supportive of Roy when he thinks of leaving the program early on, and he always seriously considers Johnny's suggestions on improving the program.

Johnny's arc in the show is how he matures and starts becoming more comfortable with himself. Which is admittedly a work in progress right to the end of the series. Imho it's important to point out that along with the gaps in income, lifestyle, and education, there's a good 12-15 year age gap between Johnny and Brackett too. (It shows in episodes like "Virus" where they share a room and Brackett has to put up with Johnny's audience of adoring nurses.) I think that any successful relationship between Johnny and Brackett would have to be as equal as possible. I can't really see Johnny/Brackett together believably while Johnny's still a paramedic, because I think both men would be mindful of the inherent power imbalance of sleeping with one's boss. Being together when they're fire captain and doctor, however, equalizes those power dynamics. (Though it might cause other issues.)

Not to say those power dynamics shouldn't be explored because there are lots of fascinating fics to be writ there! Messy, dysfunctional ships are great too.

Brackett respects and values confidence and competence. He respects and needs people to stand up to him: people who know what they want, and who can hold their own against him, like Dixie, Joe Early, or Mike Morton. We know Johnny is also well capable of standing up to Brackett; he does that in a few episodes. But Woobie!Johnny, Indecisive!Johnny, Endless!Disaster!Johnny, or Constantly!Insecure!Johnny won't cut it for long without pushback. Not to say that Johnny can't be emotionally vulnerable with Brackett, or seek comfort and advice from him! Except Brackett's not someone who tolerates wishy-washy angsty bullshit either.

I personally don't believe Johnny would care about the optics of Brackett as an influential doctor. Dating or otherwise, if Brackett's wrong about something, Johnny would point that out regardless of how it looks. I kind of think they hold similar standards in people too; they value honesty, sincerity, forthrightness. Johnny's power and influence is limited relative to Brackett's, sure, but I think that Johnny's influence on Brackett would get things done when it's the right thing to do (even though Johnny might chafe at not being able to do it himself). And I don't think Johnny would be overly envious about lifestyle differences; yes he's displeased about paramedics' low salaries and knows they're underpaid, but he doesn't blame Brackett for that.

Either way, their arguments would be loud and legion (and so would the make-up sex). These are two very passionate, driven, and caring men.

For me, "Loose Ends" is the turning point episode where Johnny/Brackett becomes feasible. It feels like the first time Brackett actually sees Johnny as the competent, confident, and caring professional and person he is; not just the goofy, nurse-chasing hose jockey at the ER desk after rescues. I mean, after 5.5 seasons, Brackett's worked with Johnny long enough to know all that on an intellectual level. Yet having Johnny treat him as a patient on the accident scene, while he's injured and emotionally fragile, is very different. That hand clasp and look between them in the treatment room is everything and it's fascinating how long they hold it.

For sure, Brackett's insistence on buying picnic tickets from Johnny so Johnny can win the Vegas trip (though Johnny doesn't want it!) definitely shows how much further they have to go to make a relationship work. But imho the Johnny/Brackett basics are set by this episode.

Non-canon ship/crackship ask game: Johnny Gage and Kel Brackett.

Oh lordy.

Potentially a disaster, definitely interesting and vastly underrated; I've read fic about that before, but it was always just PWP, which doesn't live up to the ship's full potential if you ask me.

Anyway.

Johnny and Brackett are pretty similar in a lot of ways (frequently a bit abrasive towards people they don't like or trust, insanely dedicated, clever, prone to getting emotionally involved when they shouldn't, idealistic), but from vastly different backgrounds - and I think Johnny's gonna be a lot more aware of that than Kel.

So there's the obvious - the difference in power and influence and just sheer standard of living that's probably going to be a massively sore spot for Johnny, and Brackett's gonna put his foot in it. Repeatedly. Badly.

Badly enough to sustain several slow-burn will-they-or-won't-they fics if someone feels like it.

Beyond that, I feel like they'd either take great joy in mercilessly ribbing each other, particularly for things they themselves also do (it's the hypocrisy that makes it fun - and makes Dix and Joe roll their eyes so hard it's a wonder they haven't sprained anything yet), or there'd be ample quiet, comforting moments, commiserating about patients and the stupidity of the general public, and the injustice of who lives and dies and the senselessness of it all. Probably both, in turn.

Probably a lot of severely awkward dates, too, as they kind of adjust to each other's standards. Lots of angst on Johnny's side about how do you date a very influential doctor without screwing it up, even before potentially getting into the whole, yknow, 1970's gay ship aspect of it all (especially since I love to ignore THAT whole mess), and Brackett really not seeing the problem or understanding the fuss.

Get them both onto the same page about something though, and it suddenly becomes very clear why they're dating.

[dweemeister]

El Dorado (1966)

Pulp science fiction writer Leigh Brackett was an anomaly in the genre. Not only was she a woman, but she also crossed over into Hollywood sporadically. Alongside her novellas and serialized stories, her film credits are enviable: The Big Sleep (1946; okay, this film’s story never made sense, but its romantic dialogue is legendary), Rio Bravo (1959), and, posthumously, The Empire Strikes Back (1980). To Brackett, she deemed her script to 1966’s El Dorado, a loose adaptation of Harry Brown’s novel The Stars in Their Courses, as “the best script [she] had done in [her] life.” High praise for oneself, especially as one could easily interpret El Dorado as a lighter, slightly more comic version of Rio Bravo. El Dorado was Brackett’s fourth of five collaborations with director Howard Hawks (1938’s Bringing Up Baby; the four other Brackett-Hawks collaborations include The Big Sleep, 1948’s Red River, Rio Bravo, and 1970’s Rio Lobo). Brackett’s inventiveness and spiky dialogue makes even the more clichéd elements of the story more entertaining than they should be. Other than Hawks and the ensemble cast, it is Brackett who is most responsible for the film’s success.

Somewhere in the American West, cowboy Cole Thornton (John Wayne) rides into the town of El Dorado for a job offer from local landowner Bart Jason (Ed Asner). His longtime friend, Sheriff J.P. Harrah (Robert Mitchum) meets with him, quickly deduces the reason for Cole’s presence in town, and effortlessly persuades his friend to turn down the job (the mutual respect for each other – between the characters and between Mitchum and Wayne – is apparent from the moment they meet). Jason’s job for to Thornton included coercing, gently or otherwise, the MacDonald family to abandon their land and water rights. The MacDonalds are an honest family, Harrah says, and they have been the target of regular harassment from Bart Jason and his men. Over the rest of the film, Harrah, Thornton, elderly deputy Bull Harris (Arthur Hunnicutt), a youthful gunslinger named Mississippi (James Caan), and Dr. Miller (Paul Fix) find themselves further embroiled in Jason’s repeated attempts to violently force the MacDonalds out.

El Dorado’s large supporting cast also includes saloon owner Maudie (Charlene Holt, whose character has a hankering for Thornton); R.G. Armstrong, Christopher George, Johnny Crawford, and Adam Roarke as the MacDonald boys; and Michele Carey as the hot-tempered Josephine “Joey” MacDonald (Carey and Holt play two of the final examples of the “Hawksian woman”).

Comparisons to Rio Bravo are all but inevitable to cinephiles and fans of American Westerns. Where Rio Bravo is more of a movie where friends revel in each other’s’ vibes, El Dorado is squarely a story of aging cowboys whose foibles – Harrah’s alcoholism to drown his self-pity, Thornton’s first act spinal injury and free-roaming ways – may spell the difference between local tragedy and justice. Despite what she might say, Brackett’s script to Rio Bravo (co-written by Jules Furthman) is far tighter than El Dorado’s, which employs a momentum-killing six-month time skip just as its dramatic interest begins to pique (editor John Woodcock does not provide any assistance here). It takes just a tad too much time for El Dorado, which uses the time skip to introduce Mississippi and sideline Harrah due to his heavy drinking, to regain the dramatic interest it established in the opening third of the movie.

Both casts of Rio Bravo and El Dorado have advantages over the other. Rio Bravo boasts Walter Brennan and Ward Bond in supporting roles (yet I’ve never been too fond of Dean Martin’s performance). El Dorado has Mitchum (whose dynamic with Wayne is fantastic), Caan (miles better than a Ricky Nelson sticking out like a rock 'n' roll kid from the 1950s), and not enough Asner. The two films, to me, are similar in quality, and I vacillate between which is “better” (but, on a rewatch, I think I might prefer El Dorado)*.

The interplay between John Wayne and Robert Mitchum lies at the heart of El Dorado. In 2024, it remains fashionable to lambaste Wayne for not being able to act and “playing himself” – an accusation that has been around for decades. With more lightly comedic material than usual (I would not consider El Dorado a comedy, but there are good-hearted ribbings and wry situational observances that prevent this from being a pure dramatic Western), Wayne revives some of the comic timing from The Quiet Man (1952) to decent effect here, especially around Mitchum and Caan. But most compellingly, Howard Hawks directs Wayne in a way that acknowledges and plays against his on-screen persona as the accomplished Western hero. Thornton’s spinal injury in the film’s opening act sees him reckon with his mortality – in jest and in seriousness. Wayne’s delivery and his physical acting is striking to longtime viewers such as yours truly, as it is one of the first films in which Wayne must come to terms with aging and his growing fallibility, as well as his reputation for outgunning and outthinking his opponents. The seeds of what would be Wayne’s late career signature performances in The Cowboys (1972) and The Shootist (1976) begin to show themselves here.

Mitchum, perpetually sleepy-eyed and always my first choice to play a slovenly protagonist good with a revolver, is wonderful here as a sheriff with the romantic maturity of a teenager who unaccustomed to rejection. The duality of Mitchum’s Sheriff Harrah here – the fastest gun for miles around determined to uphold the law and the inebriated slob who retains a sense of humor that makes self-pitying and self-deprecation indistinguishable – is difficult to pull off, but Mitchum does exactly that. Mitchum and Wayne’s historical on-screen personas are not polar opposites, but there is nevertheless little overlap between the two aside for their marksmanship. In their only screen appearance together (the two both co-starred on 1962’s The Longest Day, but their scenes were filmed separately), it seems the two have known each other for ages. The subtle glances, the knowing facial expressions, and gentlemanly warmth in conversation bely the fact that this is their first film together. But for El Dorado, their rapport benefits the film magnificently.

Like his good friend Ernest Hemingway, Howard Hawks admired masculine competence, professionalism, and self-reliance. El Dorado rambles a little bit about duty, honor, and loyalty, but all of this surrounds the central tenants of male friendship found here and in Rio Bravo. It is the development of that friendship and simultaneous professional excellence, rather than any plot details, that concerns Hawks – and this is the frame through which he wants viewers to see this film. By his own self admission, Hawks stated that he was, “much more interested in the story of a friendship between two men” than anything else in El Dorado (including fidelity to the original novel). The range war between Jason and the MacDonald family lacks as much exposition as some might expect. Hawks and Brackett refuse to fully explain how the dispute started, as well as what the conflict has wrought during the film’s time skip.

Those who are not as competent or professional – in this film’s case, James Caan’s character of Mississippi – are simply comic relief until they can prove otherwise. For those aware of Hawks’ aversion to Fred Zinnemann’s High Noon (1952) – in which Gary Cooper’s Sheriff Will Kane spends almost ninety minutes going around town asking for help when he learns a few recently-released convicts are coming to murder him (Hawks, to my consternation, considered this cowardly and a disgrace to the Western genre) – El Dorado is yet another reaction against it.

Unlike Hemingway, Hawks (who was by no means a feminist) rejects Hemingway’s reductionist portrayals of women as “Dark” (submissive lovers) or “Light” (castrating man-killers). The female protagonists in Hawks’ films, too, demonstrate tremendous ability. The saloon keeper, Maudie, is perhaps the most keenly observant individual in the entire picture, and can pick out the psychology of a person whether she has known them for ages (such as our leads) or if they have just stumbled in for a drink. She may be the smartest person in town. Her fellow Hawksian Woman is the wild-haired Joey MacDonald (her hair feels at times like an anachronism airlifted from the 1960s, rather than a likelihood of the Old West), quick on a gun and with a quicker temper. There is not nearly enough attention on either character as previous Hawksian Women (nevertheless, we need to recall what Hawks wanted to concentrate on most here, and that’s male friendship), but what there is still improves El Dorado’s watchability aside from our two leads.

A worthy score from composer Nelson Riddle (1960’s Ocean’s 11, 1962’s Lolita) dials back the main theme more than one might expect from a midcentury Western, but it is still effective music for this film. Riddle is best known as an arranger and orchestrator for the likes of Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, and Linda Ronstadt, not a composer. Nevertheless, arrangers and orchestrators can learn composition through osmosis if they have not already been trained in music composition. Riddle’s liberal use of harmonica perfectly captures the setting, although his use of electric guitar/bass and discernible lack of harmonic identity (especially in the strings) feels too much like television scoring from this era – Riddle was the principal composer for the 1960s Batman television series starring Adam West. Instead, the score highlights revolve around uses of the main title song and its variations.

And what about that title song? Sung by George Alexander and the Mellomen, with lyrics by John Gabriel (Dr. Seneca Beaulac on ABC’s soap opera Ryan’s Hope), “El Dorado” fits the film perfectly, and Alexander’s rich baritone musically exemplifies the masculine themes of El Dorado. Strings double underneath the vocals, with the occasional woodwind and brass section and peaking out from the melodic doubling (again, one wishes for more harmonic interest here aside from doubling the melody). A snippet of the song’s lyrics reference to Edgar Allan Poe’s poem “Eldorado”; the poem itself is recited by Mississippi. “El Dorado” is nothing but an earworm, and I just wish it (and its variations) made more appearances in the film itself.

Though Rio Bravo had elements of a changing of the guard, El Dorado cannot help but feel, by its conclusion, as a generational marker, a near-last hurrah – intentionally or otherwise. This is not, like The Wild Bunch (1969) or Unforgiven (1992), a eulogy of the Old American West. In 1966, El Dorado came at a time when the great figures of Old Hollywood and the height of the American Western’s popularity (Wayne and Mitchum) were no longer the dominant forces in American cinema. The film’s title song even opens with oil paintings from Western artist Olaf Weighorst, of evocatively overcast vistas of the West, as if in reflection.

El Dorado would be Leigh Brackett and Howard Hawks’ penultimate collaboration and penultimate Western, with Rio Lobo a few years away. Their professional partnership, so unlikely given Hawks’ status in Hollywood and Brackett’s supposedly disreputable day job as a pulp science fiction writer, is maybe one of the most underrated and undermentioned in Old Hollywood history – one that spanned the height of Golden Age Hollywood to its final years. For El Dorado, Brackett, despite a few structural missteps, once again shows her gifts for dialogue and a keen understanding of Hawks’ directorial intentions. Hawks arguably improves upon his depiction of male camaraderie from Rio Bravo, allowing our protagonists to intuit their aging (some might say obsolescence). This is a sterling Western, if slightly out of time.

My rating: 8.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog. Half-points are always rounded down.

* As of this write-up’s publication, I have not seen Rio Lobo (1970), which forms an unofficial trilogy of Westerns with Rio Bravo and El Dorado.

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

[johnnys-green-pen]

for the ship asks, gonna give you a fun, kinda tough one. johnny and morton.

ayyyy

Y'know what? Actually probably not that tough. I would maybe ship that if I could see Morton as anything else but "married to the job".

So, Johnny and Morton. They have a really nice selection of differences and similarities.

First off, as with Brackett, you get that... hmm, I'd call it Rivals To Lovers in this case, given that Morton has neither the inclination nor the means to qualify as an enemy - but yeah, that kinda dynamic.

They're two hard-headed, opinionated people clashing - but notably also two hard-headed, opinionated people who mean well and are damned good at what they do, which is, in itself a really fun dynamic.

I'm sure they'd find stuff to bond over - both of them hinted at a kinda rough childhood, both of them probably took an interesting path to where they are, both of them have something to say about society.

Both of them are the youngest of their respective work peers, interestingly enough - more stuff to bond about.

They have the potential to make each other better people.

Morton really figures out how to show empathy and engage with people on an emotional level over the course of the show, and while I think that's largely Brackett's influence, I wouldn't be surprised if Morton learns a thing or two about bedside manner and why it's important from Johnny, too.

On the other hand, unlike a certain paramedic, Morton doesn't seem nearly as concerned with social conventions - you won't see him chasing girls just so he can tick off "have a partner" on his list of life goals. Sure, he has to make some effort to seem palatable to ~society~, but generally speaking he seems happy enough as long as people respect him as a competent doctor, and that’s a lesson that Johnny sorely needs to learn.

The potential for heartfelt conversations and emotional discovery, my folks!!

Morton seems to have a soft spot for good live music, and I would love to read a fic where Morton gets Johnny into that as well.

Also, Johnny somehow weaseling his way through Morton's hard-nosed façade is an excellent fic hook as well.

Morton + "oh shit, feelings" = fuck yeah

tl;dr, as per usual all of this would work just fine in friendship fics too, but I'm never averse to a good ship - and it would be a fascinating ship because it's way more about character development than even Johnny/Roy is.

(I do maybe ship that a little)

[johnnys-green-pen]

Random E! Thoughts: S5E04 - Equipment

I will never get enough of Johnny going down that firepole one-handed, turnouts billowing around him. 

I know it should be cool as heck, but something about how fluffy he looks and how big those turnouts seem on him in this scene just makes me go “d’awww”

Also, this is the same station he was at in the pilot movie, different number aside

(It’s 10′s in the pilot, Station 8 here - but the double episode version of the pilot movie has his original station as 8′s as well, so my headcanon is that they just reorganized some shit and the number changed)

Point is, this somehow makes Johnny going straight for the fridge and raiding it even funnier

also, the backstory behind Johnny borrowing time off. What for? more than his allotted share of sick leave? a date? 

The way he sneaks up on Stoney

that entire scene is just so stupidly adorable

there’s something in the way he asks Stoney if he misses being a paramedic, though, some kind of testing the waters for his own potential plans, maybe

Johnny hears that they won’t get a Squad on that rescue and instantly starts scanning the environment for something, anything, they can use - and that’s why he’s so damned good at what he does. Part of the reason, anyway.

Doctor Brackett grasping the severity of the situation and keeping his tone perfectly level - just to start hitting the equipment as soon as he’s off the phone

It’s really fun how Johnny just takes over the rescue - he doesn’t give a shit that he’s technically not doing overtime as a paramedic, he just goes “I’m going to use your equipment” at them, and that’s that. 

Situations just like that, where they could have saved him but just did not have the resources, are exactly why Johnny became a paramedic in the first place - going through that again much have hurt like hell. I mean, we know it did, that’s the point of the episode, but just putting that before the backdrop of the several years since the pilot movie...oof.

That scene where Johnny and Roy talk is interesting.

Roy not even saying anything after he realized that Johnny’s not doing alright, he just leans in a bit and stays quiet and waits for Johnny to start talking.

Johnny just visibly struggling so much

Roy being much more happy to go “well, that’s how it is sometimes” and move on

That call they’re on right after - and Chet standing next to Cap, with Cap being almost a full head taller. Cap is infuriatingly tall. 

Johnny oscillating between snarking at Chet and being really genuinely concerned

Dix giving him shit for it

Johnny’s look when Brackett confirms that the vic flatlined the other day

The dishwashing scene, and Johnny’s interaction with Cap

Cap nearly flooding the rec room with his very intent dishwashing

Johnny having the same “poking the bear” expression he has whenever he’s snarking at Dix

his utter delight when Cap orders him to help and he’s literally saved by the bell

what an adorable lil’ shit

Johnny yeeting himself from underneath the Squad while working on it because he’s got AN IDEA!!!

and then running off to GO ORDER A CAKE!! leaving Roy to finish what he’s doing alone

Roy sure does end up in Rampart quite a bit - except when he does it he’s usually mostly fine, when Johnny does it, there’s usually at least some broken bones involved.

Also, Cap sure seemed just as woozy as Roy directly after the explosion, but I’m pretty sure I heard an “I’m fine” from him as he was still struggling not to keel over

He and Johnny really do tend to be similar, huh

Johnny showing up to visit Roy at Rampart with all the enthusiasm in the world and a wrong cake text

Roy letting Johnny unbox the thing

Johnny very happily unboxing the thing

Roy being distinctly unimpressed

[johnnys-green-pen]

Non-canon ship/crackship ask game: Johnny Gage and Kel Brackett.

Oh lordy.

Potentially a disaster, definitely interesting and vastly underrated; I've read fic about that before, but it was always just PWP, which doesn't live up to the ship's full potential if you ask me.

Anyway.

Johnny and Brackett are pretty similar in a lot of ways (frequently a bit abrasive towards people they don't like or trust, insanely dedicated, clever, prone to getting emotionally involved when they shouldn't, idealistic), but from vastly different backgrounds - and I think Johnny's gonna be a lot more aware of that than Kel.

So there's the obvious - the difference in power and influence and just sheer standard of living that's probably going to be a massively sore spot for Johnny, and Brackett's gonna put his foot in it. Repeatedly. Badly.

Badly enough to sustain several slow-burn will-they-or-won't-they fics if someone feels like it.

Beyond that, I feel like they'd either take great joy in mercilessly ribbing each other, particularly for things they themselves also do (it's the hypocrisy that makes it fun - and makes Dix and Joe roll their eyes so hard it's a wonder they haven't sprained anything yet), or there'd be ample quiet, comforting moments, commiserating about patients and the stupidity of the general public, and the injustice of who lives and dies and the senselessness of it all. Probably both, in turn.

Probably a lot of severely awkward dates, too, as they kind of adjust to each other's standards. Lots of angst on Johnny's side about how do you date a very influential doctor without screwing it up, even before potentially getting into the whole, yknow, 1970's gay ship aspect of it all (especially since I love to ignore THAT whole mess), and Brackett really not seeing the problem or understanding the fuss.

Get them both onto the same page about something though, and it suddenly becomes very clear why they're dating.