The natural tendency is to quote well-known lines, such as "failure to communicate," but there's much good stuff that goes unquoted, like "Yeah, them poor old bosses need all the help they can get," or "Get at them beans!"

This movie just does something to me. Lalo Schifrin's melancholy musical score fixes the film in its time period of the late 1960s. There were lots of films made in the late 60s/early 70s with similar musical scores. There's a real loneliness to this film, like life wasting away. Those sun-baked roadsides and that music highlight the unseen in this film; the world going on outside of this chain gang that all the imprisoned men are missing.

As with some other films, I have to watch Cool Hand Luke whenever it airs, even though I've seen it countless times.

George Kennedy's Dragline is, to me, a character equal in stature to Newman's Cool Hand Luke. I can't imagine any other actor in either of those roles.


"Hey, Lord? Whatever I done, don't strike me blind for another couple of minutes!"

The dirt out of the ditch and off of the grass is one of my favorite lines. And shaking the bush. One of my favorite movies of all time. I always hate how Dragline turns out to be kind of a wuss.

Come on safety pin. Pop!

Luke’s final escape in the dump truck where Dragline hops in was similar to Paul Muni’s escape in the 1932 film “I am a fugitive from a Georgia chain gang”. His pal Bomber hops in at the last second. The dump bed raising, falling tools and shots at the fleeing pair are virtually identical. CHL is one of my favorites too. First saw it in a theater in October ‘68 on my last date as a civilian.

Joy Harmon. Aka “Lucille”. If she wasn’t appropriately named..

I just watched this 17 minute documentary on Joy Harmon. The Cool Hand Luke scene is discussed at length. Don’t watch if you only want to retain the image of Harmon washing the car. She owns a bakery in Burbank and is apparently quite successful at it.

Cheesecake to Cheesecake; the Joy Harmon Story

I’ll add, Strother Martin as the warden was unforgettable. The enigmatic guard with the mirrored sunglasses; more than a character, almost a force of nature.

Any person interesting in the craft of acting should watch the scene between Newman and Jo Van Fleet as the mother, Arletta. Though Van Fleet's name has not been lost to time, she's far less recognized today than many of her contemporaries. This is unfortunate, because she was truly a fine actress. Aside from Cool Hand Luke, most members of this forum would likely recognize her in one of two roles, both with the name of "Kate". In East of Eden, she portrayed the mother-turned-madam. No wonder James Dean's character in the film was so screwed up. In Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, she played yet another prostitute- the girlfriend of Doc Holliday.

The scene in the film, when Luke spends time with his mother, is different than the same scene in the book. The screenwriters of the film used this scene to offer up exposition so subtlely, viewers may not even be aware of the purpose. In the scene, we learn of Luke's relationship to his mother, since he calls her by her name, which is unusal for a parent/child relationship, at least in Western culture. Luke does call her "ma" once in the scene, which, I suppose, was inserted to make sure the less perceptive viewers understood the relationship. Calling his mother by her name tells you something, but the scene reveals more. We learn that Luke's mother favored him over his brother, and we learn of the pain she feels because of Luke's failed potential in life.

"You know, sometimes, I wished people was like dogs, Luke. Comes a time, a day like, when the bitch just don't recognize the pups no more, so she don't have no hopes nor love to give her pain. She just don't give a damn."

Superb writing, and this line, as with all of this conversation, is not in the book. though, since Author Donn Pearce helped write the screenplay, these could still be his words.

We learn from this scene in the film that Arletta is dying, and since she chain smokes and coughs throughout the scene, she is dying from lung cancer or perhaps emphysema.



The same scene from Donn Pearce's novel. We learn that Luke is also called "Lloyd"

Luke ate the lunch his mother had brought along in a basket but he ate very slowly and with a sense of decorum. His young nephew sat beside his father twisting and craning his neck to see all he could of the guns and the stripes and the fences. Turning his head he looked directly into the eyes of Boss Godfrey who sat just behind them. Abruptly the boy turned his head back to the family.
Luke’s brother tried to be cheerful, telling stories of the neighbors back home and telling a couple of the latest jokes he had picked up. Then he snuffled his nose and picked at his teeth with his thumb nail.

I saw Helen the other day.

Luke looked down at his plate, took a strong bite out of the piece of chicken he was holding and said nothing.

She’s got a fine lookin‘ young’un. A boy.

Luke said nothing. His brother said nothing. Struggling to find another subject he turned his head to look around. Then he saw Boss Godfrey sitting behind them, his old black hat pulled down low over his forehead, his eyes covered with the mirrored sunglasses, a cigar in his mouth, his arms folded motionlessly over the back of the chair.
His brother looked back at Luke, at his mother and then down at the ground.

She says to say, Howdy.

Again Luke took a bite out of his chicken.
Luke’s brother was wearing a suit, a white shirt and a tie. His hair was shiny with vaseline and plastered down smooth over his head. And even from the porch I could see that he was a farmer, as clearly as if he had been wearing overalls, brogans and a ragged old hat. You could see it in his hands, the weather-beaten complexion of his face, the awkward movements of his body. Jackson’s people were mountain people from that extreme northeast corner of Alabama which lies adjacent to Tennessee and Georgia, at the very end of the Appalachian Range. They were coal miners, timber cutters and livestock raisers who had always struggled without much luck to make a living out of a hard, tough country.
And I could see from there that Luke’s mother was the strong, enduring breed of woman that you find in those mountains. She was getting old and she was tired but she still had that expression of determination, of suffering long ago accepted without question.
Steve told us about it a few days later when Luke wasn’t around. Mrs. Jackson had been quiet, making sure that Luke got enough to eat but otherwise not saying much, just looking at him, ignoring the prison sights and sounds around her, ignoring Boss Godfrey’s eavesdropping and the pistol guard sitting nearby.

It’s been a long time, Lloyd.

Yes maw, said Luke.

About three years now, ain’t it? Since the war was all done with?

I reckon it is.

Still drinkin‘ like you were?

Aw, come on now, maw, interrupted Luke’s brother. You know Lloyd ain’t allowed no liquor in—while —he’s got to stay here.

I don’t mean that. He knows what I mean.

Yes maw. I know what you mean.

Have you been gettin‘ any religion? I asked you once. Before you went into the army. Please Lloyd. Wherever you are and whatever you’re doin’, take a little time out once in a while for the Lord. Give him just a few minutes of your time.

Luke said nothing. He reached for a piece of huckleberry pie and picked up a fork. But he stopped himself.

Maw. You know—maw—

They just looked at each other. Then Luke turned his eyes away.

Lloyd. I know how you feel. But I do wish you could forget about your paw. That was a long time ago. You were only a little boy.

Luke didn’t answer.

He couldn’t help what he done. If I can find it in my heart to forgive him, why can’t you?

Luke turned his head to the other side.

Lloyd. He couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t? He was a preacher, wasn’t he?

Yes. But he was flesh and blood too.

He was, huh? But didn’t he decide to call himself a man of the cloth? Didn’t he teach the Good Word? Folks ain’t supposed to steal? Ain’t supposed to kill and lie and sin? Gotta work real hard and go to church and have lots of faith? Can’t even drink or dance or play music? Just off. That’s all. I guess he’s still spreadin‘ the Faith somewhere’s ain’t he? Among the poor innocent heathen, most likely.

Lloyd. Please.

I’m sorry, maw. I wish you hadn’t mentioned it. You know I always get riled up.

The rest of the time was spent in idle talk. Some of the visitors in the park had nothing more to say at all. Curly played with his kids. The Greek just fidgeted, his parents holding hands and staring off to nowhere. Steve was anxious to get away and come back inside so he could peddle some of the groceries his mother brought him and get into the poker game. Boss Godfrey stood up and looked at his watch. Without his saying anything, everyone knew. It was already time, the two hours were over. Last minute greetings and assurances and instructions and questions were exchanged. People kissed each other, kids were called, men shook hands uddenly Luke’s brother called his son and rushed over to the pickup truck, returning with a cardboard box full of Mason jars of preserved fruit and vegetables. The boy followed behind his father, grinning, holding out in his arms an old, scarred, scratched and beat-up banjo. Luke took it from him, holding it out at arm’s length to examine it with smiling wonder.
There were the farewells, the last kisses and tears. The convicts gathered in front of the gate, clutching their parcels and sacks with one arm and waving with the other; short, embarrassed gestures, crippled by shyness and regret and pain. On the other side of the lawn the visitors began to get into their cars, turning to wave and blow kisses, the kids screaming out their goodbyes.
Boss Godfrey walked over and opened the gate. The men came inside the yard and stood on the porch as the cars drove off down the clay road in single file, a horn blowing, arms sticking out of every window and waving. One or two of the convicts made unconvincing waves, knowing they could no longer be recognized in the crowd of men standing on the porch dressed in the same gray prison clothes. Then they turned and went inside the Building to go to their bunks and inspect their packages. The rest of us stayed outside, trying hard to swallow down the lumps in our throats while pretending to be thinking of nothing at all.



Also an invention by the screenwriters is the best known of lines from the film, the "failure to communicate" line, which is now ingrained in pop culture so thoroughly, it is quoted by people who don't have a clue where it originated.

The actor who portrayed the sunglasses wearing guard was Morgan Woodward. He was a prolific actor who was in pretty much anything popular on TV, including Gunsmoke and Dallas.

Morgan Woodward, yeah, I just saw him in an episode of Gunsmoke- The Hanging. According to IMDB, he was in 18 episodes of Gunsmoke, from 1957 to 1974.

Cool Hand Luke; one of the few of my all-time favorites that I don't have on VCR or DVD. One of these days. I'm due for a re-visit.

quote:

Originally posted by parabellum:
Morgan Woodward, yeah, I just saw him in an episode of Gunsmoke- The Hanging. According to IMDB, he was in 18 episodes of Gunsmoke, from 1957 to 1974.

He was also in Star Trek: TOS in S1, Ep 9: The Dagger of the Mind.

So, can someone eat 50 hard boiled eggs in an hour????

Great movie, watched it the other night too.

quote:

Originally posted by parabellum:
As with some other films, I have to watch Cool Hand Luke whenever it airs, even though I've seen it countless times.

It's just as true today as when I wrote this.

Airing tonight at 8 PM Eastern on TCM. I'll be there.

quote:

Originally posted by xaircav:
Luke’s final escape in the dump truck where Dragline hops in was similar to Paul Muni’s escape in the 1932 film “I am a fugitive from a Georgia chain gang”. His pal Bomber hops in at the last second. The dump bed raising, falling tools and shots at the fleeing pair are virtually identical.

Yes, true, and I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang is airing on TCM at 7 AM tomorrow.

The supporting cast was phenomenal. Strother Martin, Wayne Rogers, Dennis Hopper, Richard Davalos, Robert Donner, Harry Dean Stanton, Ralph Waite, etc., in addition to Kennedy and Woodward.

In my Top three movies after 1965.

It has a ton to offer

One of my all-time favorites. Every scene in the movie is good.

It's one those movies where almost every scene has an impact, of one kind of emotion or another.

A well deserved Oscar win for George Kennedy.

One of my (many) favorite scenes is where Luke has escaped and is running from the dogs. He gets two boys to help him remove his legs irons.
Luke's interactions with the kids is done very well. The one kid's feelings gets hurt, and Luke takes the time to make him feel better was a nice touch. It all seems very genuine.

quote:

Originally posted by YooperSigs:
The actor who portrayed the sunglasses wearing guard was Morgan Woodward. He was a prolific actor who was in pretty much anything popular on TV, including Gunsmoke and Dallas.

Before all that, he was also in 81 episodes of The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp with Hugh O'Brian playing Shotgun Gibbs.

According to a Y.T. video.
Newman only ate ate 8 eggs total of the many dozens of the hard boiled eggs that were provided.

( If you can believe YouTube)

I was watching this this past Tuesday night as, like Para, I have to watch it no matter how many times I’ve seen it before.

This time however I thought I saw something new. During the boxing match between Luke and Drag early in the film I thought I saw a very young (he would be about 22) Gary Busey. If it is him, he was the the tall, blonde, shirtless prisoner that picked up Luke so he could continue fighting. I thought I saw him later as well. However since he never had any spoken lines he is uncredited. I know there was a very young Joe Don Baker in it as well.

Am I imagining things, or was that Gary Busey? Para, I’ll submit this question to you and your vast knowledge on Classic films.