The Billion Dollar Hobo (1977)

Thanks to his small-screen success with McHale’s Navy (1962-1966) and The Carol Burnett Show (1967-1978), funnyman Tim Conway earned a shot at big-screen starring roles in the mid-’70s. With his impressive ability to play even the stupidest scenarios straight, Conway was ideally suited to ensemble work or to functioning as part of a comedy duo—hence his G-rated buddy movies with Don Knotts—but, inevitably, Conway wanted to topline his own pictures. And that brings us to The Billion Dollar Hobo, one of the most depressingly unfunny comedies ever made. Part of a two-picture deal Conway made with an indie outfit called the International Picture Show Company (the other picture being the equally awful 1978 romp They Went That-A-Way & That-A-Way), this misfire borrows narrative elements from Frank Capra and Preston Sturges, and then delivers its storyline by way of shtick so moronic it would embarrass Benny Hill. Conway stars as Vernon Praiseworthy, a well-meaning nincompoop who discovers he is heir to a railroad tycoon’s fortune. There’s a catch, of course, so Vernon is tasked with traveling the country as a hobo to learn life lessons before he’ll be granted his inheritance. How dumb is The Billion Dollar Hobo? Well, let’s see. In the first scene, Vernon gets hired as a short-order cook and left alone to run a kitchen after less than a minute of training, at which point Vernon fails to accomplish even the simplest kitchen functions, eventually blowing up the diner. Need more? How about the fact that the tycoon (Will Geer) assigns as Vernon’s traveling companion a dog whom the tycoon correctly believes is smarter than Vernon, and will keep Vernon out of trouble? And then there’s the whole business of Vernon stumbling into a criminal plot to kidnap a shar pei dog named “Lee Ching Win.” Can we stop now? Or must we dwell on scenes of Conway walking into doors and/or standing with his mouth open and his shoulders slumped, giving the impression that he’s just been lobotomized? Save yourself a few brain cells by giving The Billion Dollar Hobo a wide berth.

The Billion Dollar Hobo: SQUARE

Executive Action (1973)

          To say that Executive Action has credibility problems is an understatement, because the picture offers a possible “explanation” for the assassination of President John F. Kennedy that refutes the “lone gunman” hypothesis of the Warren Commission. (The movie is based on a book by inveterate conspiracy theorists Donald Freed and Mark Lane.) While there’s a chance the scenario outlined in Executive Action is something like the truth, history has yet to offer definitive validation of the picture’s guesswork. Compounding the credibility issue, the film’s storytelling is unusual, because instead of unfolding as a straightforward dramatic narrative, the picture features a combination of historical re-enactments, newsreel footage, and very long dialogue scenes, during which conspirators debate the pros and cons of killing Kennedy. Yet even though Executive Action is a bumpy ride, it’s fascinating.

          The movie focuses on the dynamic between Texas millionaires Foster (Robert Ryan), the prime mover behind the assassination plot, and Ferguson (Will Geer), a skeptical would-be financial backer. With the aid of covert-ops guy Farrington (Burt Lancaster), Foster tries to persuade Ferguson that taking out JFK will advance an insidious right-wing agenda. Foster describes a future in which JFK’s humanistic policies will thaw the Cold War and expand the rights of minorities and the working class, resulting in a world that power-mongers like Foster and Ferguson cannot control. Meanwhile, Farrington explains the mechanics he’ll use if the plan is authorized—he will frame Lee Harvey Oswald as a patsy and set up triangulated gunfire ensuring that JFK is killed.

          Even for viewers who don’t buy into the film’s most outlandish notions, it’s disturbing to watch men plan a murder like it’s just another item on their corporate agenda; the conspirators’ calmness is chilling. Amid the few snippets of action that break up the dialogue scenes, the most riveting sequence is probably an extended vignette set at a remote training facility. Gunmen led by an icy ex-military shooter (Ed Lauter) create a mock-up of Dealey Plaza and run a remote-controlled limo through a crossfire pattern to practice their assassination techniques. Executive Action springs to life during this sequence because of how vividly the film imagines what might have happened.

          Interestingly, the film’s director, David Miller, began his career making documentaries, and it’s easy to see traces of nonfiction storytelling in the methodical quality of Executive Action. Plus, beyond its historical status as one of the first films to question the official story about JFK’s death, Executive Actionis noteworthy as the second and last project involving both Miller and legendary screenwriter Dalton Trumbo; they previously worked on the great modern-day Western Lonely Are the Brave (1962).

Executive Action: GROOVY