It's taken a while for this hunk to finally receive his profile in The Underworld, though it's not because we didn't care. There's no set order for what bubbles up to the surface from down here. He just happened to be one of the later subjects to have the spotlight turned on him. In fact, this happens to be one of the scant handful of stars who I have personally met, and it certainly was not a disappointment (restraining order and all... Ha!), but more on that later. For now, let's take a look at one of TV's most attractive (and underrated) leading men, Gregory Harrison.
Born under the same name that would later become famous, he entered the world on May 31st, 1950. His parents lived on Catalina Island, off the coast of southern California and he would remain on that rather idyllic spot until he was eighteen. The middle child of an older sister and a younger brother, his youth consisted of plenty of swimming and fishing. His father was the captain of a glass-bottomed boat and, though his mother (who had studied dance) helped to foster her children's artistic sides. B
oth of Harrison's siblings would become artists. His parents divorced, however, when he was fourteen.
He was drafted into the army in 1969, which was a trying, grueling experience for him. Used to a far freer environment, he grappled with his immediate superiors and was duly punished for it. He was honorably discharged, however, in 1971, after serving as a medic. While in the service, he learned to play the guitar and composed songs. In the early stages of his career, he believed that music and song-writing might be his path, but ultimately it was not, at least not primarily.
After his stint in the service, he kicked around in several jobs, from being a delivery boy to a construction worker to a window washer. He even did time in a then-trendy Elizabethan-style restaurant, where he played a fool of the court and encouraged diners to throw food at him! Sometimes in part of the act as “punishment,” he'd be placed in restraints and forced to let dozens of women come up and kiss him. He sought to break into acting full time and started working in local theatre.
One night, an attendee was none other than Jason Robards, who encouraged Harrison to pursue his craft in Los Angeles. He swiftly made plans to do just that. It was no easy success, though. He won the lead role in a low-budget film called Jim, The World's Greatest, written and directed by two seventeen year-olds, but it was a few years before it saw release (having been picked up after completion by Universal Studios.) It told the story of a teenage boy with an alcoholic father and a brother who is abused by him.
He also landed an uncredited part in the 1973 Tippi Hedren/Don Johnson film The Harrad Experiment
(based on a scorching book about free love on a college campus – written by Robert Rimmer, of all names!), but for his trouble had to strip down to nothing and join in a coed skinny-dipping sequence.
It was 1975 before he worked on camera again. In the memorable TV-movie Trilogy of Terror (a set of horror stories each featuring Karen Black in various roles), he played a college student who may be next in line in a dangerous sexual game played by a sultry teacher. That same year, he appeared unbilled in the pilot movie The New Adventures of Wonder Woman with Lynda Carter and Lyle Waggoner. He played, ironically enough, an army medic! He also guest-starred on the hit series Barnaby Jones and M*A*S*H.
1977 brought what ought to have been a successful film based on the poster alone. Look at this (click to enlarge!) and ask yourself how you could not shell out the dough to see a movie called Fraternity Row when the poster has eight young men in jockey briefs, with their rears facing out, preparing to drop trow for a spanking and another similarly-clad man in the middle being fed a goldfish?!
The period film examined dangerous hazing rituals during the 1950s (a situation that has reared its ugly head over and over again and continues to do so even now!)
This was a student project that eventually was picked up by Paramount Studios for release. The now-obscure film also starred Paul Newman's ill-fated son Scott as a chief antagonizer and Nancy Morgan (the wife of John Ritter for almost two decades and the mother of three of his children.) In what would become a motif of Harrison's, he is shown shirtless in a key scene, in this film, a harrowing one.
His next project was far more heavily viewed and served as a sterling example of the television movie for many years. The Gathering was a bittersweet holiday story of a man (Ed Asner) estranged from his children, but wanting to spend one last Christmas together before he dies from an illness. Harrison joined a very solid cast that included Maureen Stapleton, Lawrence Pressman, Gail Strickland, Bruce Davison and, as Greg's wife, Stephanie Zimbalist. Zimbalist would reappear with Harrison in several more projects as the years went by.
Harrison was given quite a break in 1977 when he was chosen to star in his own TV show, a program based on the 1976 sci-fi film Logan's Run. I loved that movie as a kid, but the television version was a low-budget, pale re-imagining with stars
(Harrison, The Sound of Music's Heather Menzies and Randy Powell) in no way, physically or emotively, resembling their big screen counterparts Michael York, Jenny Agutter and Richard Jordon. An android character played by Donald Moffat was also added to the regular cast.
The departure from the character types of the parent movie might not have been as big an issue had the series not dumbed down the overall concept and stripped it of adult components such as romance between the leads. Ultimately, it wound up as a weekly chase show with Harrison and Menzies trying to keep ahead of Powell, who relentlessly sought them to punish them for escaping the domed city. At least one episode reunited Menzies with her Music sister Angela Cartwright, which had to be sort of neat for fans. In any case, only 14 episodes were filmed. Now, it's just cheesy fun to look back on this pre-Star Wars bit of science-fiction.
A far more notable and prestigious assignment came his way next. He was cast in a pivotal role in the epic miniseries Centennial. You know, I have to laugh when I see four-hour TV-movies being presented as “miniseries.” In the 1970s, a miniseries was just that, a lengthy, installment-based, star-filled event, usually with plenty of drama, sweep and scope to it. Centennial collected a galaxy of performers and put them to work settling the western half of The United States, primarily near a fictional town called Centennial. The miniseries was 21 hours long without commercials!
Harrison played an Amish boy who is accused of an assault he didn't commit and is shunned as a result. He marries a grown orphan girl (Stephanie Zimbalist) and the two set out to create a new home out west. They trudge their covered wagon through the open country, encountering all sorts of hardships before finally stopping to settle. He and Zimbalist fostered significant chemistry together, making their segment one of the best in the series. For this program, he was aged significantly as his character grew older and older (which eventually turned a bit preposterous given that he was only twenty-seven in real life!) Still, it was a mammoth project and one he could be proud of.
He and Zimbalist worked together again in 1979 in the telefilm The Best Place to Be. Oh to be able to watch this one. Just look at the cast: Donna Reed, Efrem Zimbalist Jr (Stephanie's father), Leon Ames, Rick Jason, Madlyn Rhue, John Phillip Law, Timothy Hutton, Lloyd Bochner, Mildred Dunnock, Gloria Stuart and Betty White! It, like countless other TV-movies, is lost out there in Limboland somewhere.
A terrific opportunity came Harrison's way in 1979 and that was another shot at a series. It not only was a success, running for more than 7 years, but made him a household name. Trapper John, M.D. was actually a spin-off/sequel of M*A*S*H,
the title character having been played by Wayne Rogers in that series (set, of course, during The Korean War.) He was offered the role again in this update, but turned it down. The connection between the two shows was vague at best, with Trapper eventually coming into its own. In any case, the producers of M*A*S*H wanted to claim royalties from the show, so a court ended up ruling that the series was a spin-off from the original film M*A*S*H, thus preventing such a thing from occurring. Pernell Roberts (previously of Bonanza fame) took on the role of a caring, but sometimes prickly doctor.
Like countless shows before it, a young upstart was cast opposite the established physician in order to provide contrast and, at times, conflict. This is where Harrison came in as Dr. George Alonzo Gates, better known as “Gonzo” Gates. While Roberts was a secure and reliable presence at the hospital, Harrison was, at least at first, a free-wheeling nonconformist who lived on the parking lot in a ramshackle RV nicknamed The Titanic. He could sometimes be found sunbathing on top of it, always a welcome sight.

What really put Harrison on the map in my household (and surely many others!) was his appearance during the opening credits. Taken from the very first episode, from the moment when the lead characters have their first face-to-face discussion, Harrison was depicted emerging from a shower stall. Roberts (referring to a just prior surgery) tells him he's got “great hands” and Harrison shoves the stall door open, revealing everything else to Roberts, and says, “Thanks! The rest of me's kind of cute, too.” Just ask any gay man of a certain age
what he remembers about the show Trapper John, M.D. and see if this image isn't one of the first things he mentions! I all but licked the TV during the credits sequence (and this being long before the days of the VCR, you'd better be damned sure you had the TV on at the right time and could commit the image to memory because it was going to be at least another week before the chance to see it rolled around again.) It was, quite simply, one of the greatest opportunities to see prime beefcake, ever so fleetingly, on TV at that time.
Of course, he was rarely called upon to be semi-nude thereafter, but he still developed a cute, caring, at times passionate character who was a pleasure to watch. How many of you out there recognize the other regular cast member shown with Harrison in this shot? He was in every single episode of the show for the length of its 151 episode run, but is far better known now for his work on the Broadway stage. Billed as Brian Mitchell, he is more familiarly known as Brian Stokes Mitchell now, star of Ragtime and a Tony winner for Kiss Me Kate.
During Harrison's time on Trapper John,
he worked on several other projects. One was the TV-movie The Women's Room, a feminist drama based on a popular book. In it, he played the young lover of Lee Remick, a woman returning to graduate school and whose friends in the story are played by some powerhouses such as Colleen Dewhurst, Patty Duke, Tovah Feldshuh and Tyne Daly. He also appeared in Enola Gay: The Men, the Mission, the Atomic Bomb, all about the decision to use a nuclear bomb during WWII.
In 1980, he formed his own production company along with a friend of his (who handled much of the business end of things) called Catalina Production Company. This led to the creation of many stage projects and television movies, many starring Harrison. The first one was a wild success, not only scoring a ratings hit, but eventually becoming a home video blockbuster for reasons which should be readily apparent. For Ladies Only concerned a fledgling, unsuccessful actor who finds that he can make a ton of money by working as a male stripper. Before long, he's become king of a Chippendales-like night club where he shucks off his clothes and parades around in skimpy briefs.

His costars in this were Marc Singer (as a fellow dancer and drug addict), Viveca Lindfors, Dinah Manoff, Louise Lasser, Lee Grant and, as his girlfriend, Patti Davis (better known as the daughter of Ronald Reagan and Nancy Davis Reagan!) Not solely an excursion into seminudity, the piece did attempt to shed a little light on its subject and present some moral lessons as well. Coinciding with the airing of the movie was a white-hot poster of Harrison in his Z (for Zorro) briefs. At this moment, he was quite possibly the hunkiest person I had ever witnessed in my life (I was fourteen!) I still think he looked damned amazing.
Also produced by Catalina Productions, but with an eye towards a higher plain of respectability was 1983's The Hasty Heart, based on a play that had previously been made into a 1949 movie starring Ronald Reagan, Patricia Neal and Richard Todd. In this version, a filmed rendition of the play, actually, presented on Showtime, Harrison was joined by Cheryl Ladd and Perry King. As a wounded soldier aching to go home, but who may never get there, Harrison demonstrated acting talent that some of his other projects didn't allow him to show off.

Another TV film that same year, produced by his company, was The Fighter. This one concerned a Vietnam veteran barely making ends meet who discovers that boxing could bring him and his wife (played by Glynnis O'Connor) some much needed income. There is a similarity in theme with this to For Ladies Only in that both men want to pursue a legitimate career, but find that they can get ahead further by exploiting their physicality. This was something Harrison struggled with all along himself. He wanted more than anything to be known for his acting ability, something he worked on incessantly, but seemed to find the greatest success when he peeled off his clothes and showed the world his physique.

Speaking of that, Harrison, as a CBS television star, was frequently called upon to participate in the occasional (legendary) specials called Battle of the Network Stars. These programs were astonishingly popular in the late '70s/early '80s not only because they pitted celebrities from the big three networks competing against one another for prize money and bragging rights, but also because three of the events required the men to don tiny, snug Speedo swimsuits! As an athletic, in-shape young man, Harrison was a valuable member of his team.

In 1980, while competing on one of the specials, he was spotted by rival contestant Randi Oakes, of NBC and the series CHiPs. A former model-turned-actress, she fell for him on the spot and before long, the two were an item. (No weak, demure flower herself, on one episode of BOTNS, she actually picked Harrison up and carried him to the dunk tank!) In December of 1980, they married and have remained so to this day. They have three daughters. Oakes gave up acting altogether in 1985 to become a stay-at-home mom and wife.
A rare feature film came along in 1984. Razorback was an Australian-made thriller about a wild boar who is killing people, women and children included, leading Harrison to head out after it. His wife, a wildlife documentary filmmaker, is one of the victims, which spurs him into action.
The little-known film was another mild hit on home video and has been noted for its creative visuals and cinematography.
Around this same time, Harrison was addicted to cocaine. Though he'd previously dated Maureen McCormick (whose habit with the drug reached an almost preposterous level and even cost her her relationship with him) and saw firsthand the damages of the stuff, he somehow got involved with it himself. He was on a never-ending track of working on Trapper John, developing projects with Catalina, working in his off-time on TV movies and plays and generally working at a frantic pace. Jason Robards sage advice to him back in the early days was to “keep your nose clean,” but he hadn't.

He departed Trapper John (which was cancelled less than ten episodes later) in 1986. In the time since the show had begun, he had morphed from a cute, curly-haired guy into a sleek, chiseled man. He kept busy with various projects including Oceans of Fire, an oil rig movie in which he wore shorts throughout, and a filmed presentation of the play Picnic (again for the Showtime network), in which he played the drifter Hal and was shown shirtless for an extended time (Jennifer Jason Leigh had the Kim Novak part while Michael Learned essayed Rosalind Russell's role.)
This continued trend towards showing off his chest reached a (humorous) fever pitch the same year when he costarred in Fresno, the first (and only?) comic miniseries. This being 1986, when the glitzy prime-time soaps were in their heyday, Fresno was a lengthy spoof with elements of Dynasty, Falcon Crest and others. Carol Burnett, Dabney Coleman, Charles Grodin and Teri Garr (pictured with Harrison here) headed the cast. At no time in the 360 minute series did Harrison ever put on a shirt! Costume changes consisted of picking out a different shirt to sling over his shoulder.
In 1987, Harrison's production company put forth North Shore, in which he played a supporting role. The movie concerned a young art student who spends his summer surfing in Hawaii, coming into contact with a guru (Harrison) who instructs him in the art of surfing with his soul rather than for personal gain. Harrison was a real-life surfing nut and claims to have surfed at every viable beach available on any continent. The movie has since become a cult favorite among surfing enthusiasts.
The next year he appeared in the TV remake of a classic John Wayne/Montgomery Clift film. Red River put Bruce Boxleitner in Clift's shoes while James Arness attempted to fill The Duke's. Harrison took on John Ireland's old role. No one felt that it was better than the original, but it did give work to some good ol'
cowboys who hadn't been put to much use lately such as Guy Madison, Robert Horton and Ty Hardin.
Harrison's drug problem was solved when he realized that one of his young daughters was afraid to climb onto his lap when he was under the influence. He looked into his soul and realized that if something wasn't done, he could die. He drove himself to The Betty Ford Center and sought help, determined to move past his addiction and regain his life. He remarked to the press how surprised and grateful he was that he didn't lose his wife Randi during the years of his drug abuse. Afterwards, he appeared periodically before various groups in order to provide insight into the situation and try to help others kick their habit.
Having spoofed prime-time soaps with Fresno, he found himself cast in one in 1989. Falcon Crest was on close to its last legs by then and was taking a far darker turn in its storylines. Harrison was cast as a ruthless businessman named Michael Sharpe. Series matriarch Jane Wyman was in serious health decline during the bulk of his time on the show and the emphasis switched from her machinations to more criminal (and sexual) activities, with the opening credits reflecting this as well. The show was finally cancelled and Wyman defied doctors' orders to come and film the final three episodes.
The real reason Harrison worked on Falcon Crest (in a part he didn't particularly want)
was in order to secure the company who produced it, Lorimar, to develop a series for him. The show, The Family Man, was a sitcom that had him playing a widowed fire chief trying to raise four youngsters with the help of his father-in-law, Al Molinaro. The show barely lasted a season, being cancelled after 22 episodes in 1991. The next year, he reunited with Stephanie Zimbalist one final time in the TV movie Breaking the Silence, playing a rich lawyer who is temporarily working with one who works for free (Zimbalist.) During the course of his involvement in the case, he discovers he was sexually abused as a child.
Harrison had moved his family from Los Angeles to Oregon, interested in raising his daughters outside the smog-filled air and away from the obvious temptations of La-La Land. Thus, he wasn't seen as often as he had been, taking on the occasional TV movie. In 1995, he tried something entirely new. He got back in touch with his musical side and traveled to New York City in order to star Steel Pier on Broadway. Though it was given several Tony nominations, it didn't run for all that long.
In 2001, he returned to Broadway in Stephen Sondheim's Follies, appearing with Blythe Danner, Treat Williams, Judith Ivey and a variety of veteran stars including Polly Bergen and Betty Garrett.
His most enduring stage persona was that of Billy Flynn in Chicago, for not only did he play the part as a replacement on Broadway, but he toured extensively throughout America with the part. And that, dear reader, is what finally allowed me to meet the man. He happened to be starring in Chicago at the same time I was appearing in a stage version of Steven King's Misery. His production was in the massive main stage theatre while mine was in the smaller black box one, but his dressing room was right near the backstage entrance to where my play was.
I was bound and determined not to let the opportunity pass by for me to meet one of my earliest childhood crushes. Remembering that I had an old magazine at home with his face on the cover, I decided that that would be my entree to starting a conversation with him.
One day, about 45 minutes prior to curtain, I went by his dressing room just as he'd entered from across the hall. I slithered in and offered him a welcoming handshake to the city and to the theatre itself. I explained who I was and that seemed to pique his interest (that there was, in fact, a stage version of Misery.) I was dressed in the suit and tie that my character wore at the onset of the play, but lifted the legs of my trousers to reveal the beaten, bruised, broken, metal-bracket ridden limbs that would later be shown to a shocked audience once my character had been injured in a car accident and “nursed” by the crazed Annie Wilkes.
He was agog at the sight of this and was disappointed that he couldn't see the actual show. We spoke about the magazine I brought and he reminisced about some of the other celebrities in it. He couldn't have been nicer or more accommodating to me, a complete interloper. As I looked into his fifty-four year-old face, I could see nothing but a fit, trim, deliriously handsome man who looked about half that. There is no way to aptly describe his eyes.
They were almost translucent in their pale grey-greenness. As I continued to natter on about anything and everything, he looked me deep in the eyes and stood up, unbuttoning his shirt and coming towards me. I began to back towards the door while he continued forward, getting closer and closer and less and less covered up (I still recall his trimmed chest hair, maybe ¼ of an inch long, dusting his solid chest...) I was so enraptured by this whole turn of events that I felt like I was in some surreal hallucination. As we both got to the door, he smiled and said very politely, “I'm sorry, but I have to get ready!” Ha ha! I had blathered on and on as the time for curtain (for both our shows!) had crept closer and closer upon us.
I admit that I felt rather foolish later when I realized that Billy Flynn doesn't appear on stage for quite a while after curtain, but maybe he needed to go through a few preparations beforehand. The production of Misery lived up to its name in many ways, but there is nothing that could ever make me regret doing it because I got to spend that bit of quality time with one of the men who helped form my taste in the male species!
Already by this time, he'd played gay man on film, though not flamboyantly, but in a refreshingly understated and non-stereotypical way. He portrayed the ex-lover of Eric Roberts in the 1997 movie It's My Party. The director Randall Kleiser had cast Greg long ago in The Gathering and no doubt called upon him to help round out what mostly was a cast of his friends and former associates such as Grease's Olivia Newton-John and The Blue Lagoon's Christopher Atkins among others.
There was another attempt at a series in 1999 called Safe Harbor, which recalled his boyhood days on Catalina Island. He played another widower, this time a sheriff with three children and his mother on hand. Mom was played by a post-Golden Girls Rue McClanahan. Still, like The Family Man, this concept didn't catch on and Harbor sank without a trace after ten episodes.
Over the last decade or so, Harrison has continued to be an active presence on television. He appeared in recurring parts on Ed, Judging Amy, Strong Medicine, Joey and One Tree Hill. He recently did an episode of Hot in Cleveland. “Cursed” with a gorgeous face and body that is still very much in evidence, he didn't become the acclaimed actor he might have hoped for when he started out decades ago, but it's safe to say that he's made many fans happy nevertheless. I know he was and is a favorite of mine!
Fans of tan, hairy, in-shape chests, this is your day. This is the day when The Underworld is going to celebrate one of the all-time great examples of a “chest-o-death” (and the face was nothing to be disappointed about either!) Konrad Falkowski entered this world in 1929 and would become one of the most furtively objectified hunks of young gay male TV viewers of the 1960s and beyond (what, you say? You don’t know Mr. Falkowski? Then, in that case, I give you Mr. Robert Conrad!)
Even at age 17, he was a rugged, rough ‘n tumble
sort of young man with much drive. He ran off with the daughter of an attorney who had been living in a religious boarding school. Using the name Robert Conrad, to avoid being found out, he lied about his age to obtain a job as a Chicago dockworker and proceeded to impregnate the young lady. Now feeling there was no way his marriage could be dissolved by disapproving, interfering parents, he alerted his family to his whereabouts and proceeded to have four more children with his wife as the years went on.
In 1954, he was fired from his job over a union dispute and worked as a milkman and even as a
band singer. Eventually he found himself in sunny California. Discovered and put under contract to Warner Brothers, he became one of their stable of young, good-looking contractees, indentured to work on the countless movies and TV programs being produced in the late 50s and early 60s. Initially reed-thin, but always with a tight washboard of flawless abs, he appeared in tiny film roles and in guest stars on such shows as Bat Masterson, Maverick and Sea Hunt. Publicity photos sometimes paired him with other up and comers such as the beauteous Van Williams seen to the left.
In 1959, he was placed on his own series (costarring with Anthony Eisley and featuring Connie Stevens and Poncie Ponce) called Hawaiian Eye. The extremely popular detective show ran for four years and he made occasional guest appearances on the similar (critics would say
cookie-cutter) series 77 Sunset Strip.
During these earliest years of his acting career, he also boxed professionally as Bob Conrad (oh no! the face!) and went undefeated during this stint. He was a lean, mean fightin’ machine who (at an alleged 5’8”) wasn’t going to let his comparatively diminutive height stand in the way of proving himself to be a macho, very athletic and unquestionably strong man.
Also, as Warners had a record division and he could make money for them this way as well, he released
a single or two. One of them has become a source of amusement over the years due to the title “Ballin’ the Jack,” though the song was written around 1914 and was a standard. In order to emphasize the strength of his singing voice, the sleeve of the record featured a close-up of his gorgeous face and a shot of his shirtless body! Ha ha! I’m betting a lot of those sleeves ended up pressed in scrapbooks or were otherwise treasured long after the single had either been worn out or tossed out!
The series ended in 1963 and that
same year he graduated briefly to the big screen in the colorful (and silly) Palm Springs Weekend. Here he was paired once again with Connie Stevens, whose hair is an example of why convertibles were so popular during that era! No normal car could house all that unless the seat was reclined.
Conrad finally worked with a fellow actor named Nick Adams who was one inch shorter than he. The two had met back in Indiana at James Dean's gravesite of all places, and Adams had encouraged Conrad to give acting a try in California. In Young Dillinger, Adams played the title character, Mary Ann Mobley was his moll, John Ashley was Baby Face Nelson and Conrad rounded out the compact cast as Pretty Boy Floyd. Conrad’s billing was below Adams though he would soon emerge the bigger star. The desperately driven Adams would later be the subject of one of Hollywood's unsolved mysteries.
In 1965, Conrad was placed in the series that would
forever assure him a spot in the pop culture arena. The Wild Wild West was a spy series set during the post-Civil War era. The fanciful show cast Conrad as Jim West and the one decade older Ross Martin as his partner Artemus Gordon. Together, they would work on special missions on behalf of President Ulysses S. Grant, often finding themselves in hot water, affording Conrad the opportunity to show off his by now jaw-dropping physique.
When Conrad wasn’t stripped to
the waist being hoisted, flogged, beaten or some such, he wore a series of impossibly snug, anachronistically tailored and manufactured suits (mostly) in the colors tan, grey, blue and brown. The jackets of the suits stopped at his waist, ensuring a clear view of what is considered by many people to be the ultimate ass in television history! The ridiculously clingy and revealing trousers could not possibly have been more inappropriate for the character’s occupation, but it was the mid-60s and no one seemed to mind or even notice. (Or if they noticed, they sure as hell weren’t going to complain about it!)
Martin spent a lot of his time in disguise on the show, developing about 100 different sub-characters of every type. Conrad was the action star of the show and
always performed his own stunts. Once, he fell many feet to a concrete floor, landing on his head and receiving a concussion, and shooting was halted for several weeks! Conrad, a major leaguer when it came to anything physical, took a weekly beating and loved it. Then, of course, there’s the episode in which he was battling it out with some villains and his pants ripped open down the front! For quite a few seconds, his leg was exposed, along with the crotch of his tighty-whitey briefs!! Of course, when the fight was over, his pants had miraculously repaired themselves and now had a new tear on the outside of the other leg… (Annie Wilkes: “It’s not fair. He didn’t get out of the cock-a-doodie car!”) Amazingly, this was left in the episode and can now be seen any time it’s on or viewed on DVD.
Conrad had the deepest tan,
the bluest eyes, the most sun-kissed hair and a chest that defied all description in its musculature and hair placement. Quite simply, he was a GOD on this series and he gained many a lifelong fan from his work on it. The first season was in black and white. The remaining three seasons were in color, allowing the world to see him in all his true glory.
The series would have continued even longer had there not been a hubbub and backlash against violence on TV at the time it was pulled in 1969.
Ratings were still respectable. The action-heavy show was cited as one of the culprits when it came to gratuitous violence and off it went. Incidentally, around this same time (in 1968) a TV-broadcast of Young Dillinger was planned, but was pulled due to its content as well. Nick Adams, who was a producer of the film, was disheartened by its cancellation and, while that may not have caused his death by overdose shortly after, it surely didn’t help to lift his spirits. Conrad, who was by then one of Adams’ best friends, has always declared the death accidental, though it remains an unsolved case (accidental, murder, suicide?) When the film finally aired on TV, the billing was switched to have Conrad, not the title character (!) come first.
Once The Wild Wild West was cancelled, Conrad began appearing in a lot of TV movies, this being
the time of wondrously watchable ninety-minute gems with twisty concepts or empty-headed, but thoroughly entertaining, pulpy plotlines. One legendary one, Weekend of Terror, had Bob and Lee Majors as dangerous kidnappers holed up with nuns Lois Nettleton, Jane Wyatt and (as a liberated one in mini-skirt and go-go boots!) Carol Lynley. An almost instant camp classic, it's not easy to find now. Another had him as one of only two men on an island with Five Desperate Women (two of whom were Stefanie Powers and Joan Hackett) where death claimed at least one of the title gals.
After attempting to gain a new
foothold in series television with The D.A. and Adventures of Nick Carter, he finally landed a spy show called Assignment Vienna, but it only lasted eight episodes. He worked on the popular series Columbo as a health club owner investigated for murder. Once again, the ol’ bod was out there for public consumption and he was still looking great. Still a boxing enthusiast, he appeared on Mission: Impossible as “Bobby,” a boxing trainer in one two-part episode.
A by now infrequent feature film role came his way in 1975 when he and Don Stroud were cast in Murph the Surph (later changed to Live a Little, Steal a Lot, thank goodness!) Based on a real life thief and taking place in a beach setting, he and Stroud
made for some beefy, hunky eye candy in their clingy cutoff shorts, though the film made no substantial impact.
He and Stroud reunited a couple of years later, this time as adversaries, in the low-budget, very-violent Sudden Death. One of those martial-arts extravaganzas in which every blow to the chest sounds like a whip cracking, it was destined to attract a cult following. Conrad’s old Dillinger costar John Ashley appeared in it as well, along with Conrad’s now-grown daughter Nancy. (She had been given a role in Murph, too, and would later pop up on Baa Baa Black Sheep.)
When WWII flyer Pappy Boyington’s
story became the basis for a TV series, Conrad portrayed him on Baa Baa Black Sheep. (This unfortunate title was later changed to Black Sheep Squadron.) Here Conrad was placed in charge of a bunch of wet behind the ears pilots stationed in the Pacific. Among them was a skinny John Larroquette and Dirk Blocker, son of Bonanza’s Hoss Cartwright Dan Blocker.
Conrad was mature now and had lost a little bit of the prettiness he’d possessed earlier, but was still in amazing shape and projected handsome virility.
As ever, he never missed an opportunity to go shirtless, spending half of one episode in just green fatigue shorts! (This ep featured Star Trek's George Takei.) All of the flyers wore khaki zip-up jumpsuits. While most everyone’s was somewhat oversized and baggy, Conrad’s was tailored closely to allow his front and rear to give maximum impact! He also barely bothered to zip it up and wore no t-shirt underneath.
The series didn’t last particularly long, maybe a season and a half,
but its subject matter attracted airplane aficionados and it has enjoyed frequent airplay on The History Channel over the years. When the show returned after one season, a set of nurses was added to the cast, though this did nothing to improve ratings. Note the incredible verisimilitude of the hair and costume of this lady. She has all the 1940s ambiance of, say, a 1978 actress hopeful. Never one to have acting awards thrown his way, he did cop a Golden Globe nomination and a People’s Choice Award for his work on the series.
While he was starring on Black Sheep, the famous Battle of the Network Stars specials began airing twice a year, in which teams of stars from each of the big three networks (NBC, CBS and ABC) competed in athletic matches to vie for prize money and, more importantly, glory amongst their peers. These shows are fondly
remembered for forcing loads of defenseless male TV actors into the tiniest and flimsiest of Speedo swimsuits for events that took place in the Olympic size pool at Pepperdine University.
Bob was team the NBC captain the first year and a few times afterward and, to say the least, heartily threw himself into the competition. Never shy about bopping around in his little suit, he doggedly drove his team to the breaking point. He also made a complete ass of himself when he disputed a ruling during the relay race and argued fiercely about it with Gabe Kaplan, who was captain of the opposing ABC team. Coercing Kaplan into a footrace he felt sure he’d win with ease, he was humiliated when Kaplan beat him with room to spare.
The 70s brought on a whole new
era of macho attitude in men and Conrad was right in the swing of things, promoting Eveready batteries with a campaign that dared viewers to knock one of the batteries off his shoulder. He played cocky, jerky, sometimes hard-drinking types in various TV movies and miniseries including Breaking Up is Hard to Do. Depending on whom you ask, these roles didn’t require a tremendous stretch from him. In 1977, he left his wife of twenty-five years, with whom he’d had five children, and married a woman thirty-one years his junior (with whom he had three more children!)
In 1979, he and Ross Martin re-teamed
for The Wild Wild West Revisited. The reunion movie, which tended to eschew the drama for more lighthearted antics, was popular enough to warrant a follow up in 1980 called More Wild Wild West. Interest in the characters was enough to justify plans for a prospective new version of the series, but unfortunately Martin, whose health had been sketchy for a few years (he’d had a heart attack in 1968) died before it could materialize. Publicity photos for the reunion movies unintentionally played up how much the men had “matured” since the original.
Also in 1979, he headlined the major,
very-lengthy miniseries Centennial, playing a French-Canadian trapper whose offspring play a part in the settling of Colorado. He and Richard Chamberlain kicked off the epic story, though Conrad’s character was in the project for a bit less time overall than Chamberlain’s. Interestingly, that same year, he was cast in the film The Lady in Red as John Dillinger, this time he was in support of Pamela Sue Martin, of all people, as the title character.
Conrad began taking on uncharacteristic parts that offered more of an acting challenge, such as
portraying a wheelchair-bound athletic director in Coach of the Year and, particularly, playing the title character in Will: The Autobiography of G. Gordon Liddy, for which he wore brown contacts and underplayed his beefcake attributes in order to lend authenticity to the part. A short-lived series, A Man Called Sloane (again, he was cast as a spy), aired in 1979 with his old costar from Hawaiian Eye Anthony Eisley appearing in one episode.
Now moving into a sort of hunky daddy phase,
he continued to headline TV movies while occasionally winning supporting roles in big screen fare. Wrong is Right had him working with Sean Connery. The TV flick Two Fathers’ Justice had him up against George Hamilton and the men played ex-soldiers who have to take the law into their own hands when their married children are murdered in a case of mistaken identity.
This middling project was
deemed popular enough to warrant a sequel nine years later, Two Fathers: Justice for the Innocent. Here it was his turn to look the more aged one in the comparison photos next to the otherworldly smooth, slick and tan (and tall!) George Hamilton. Another series attempt, High Mountain Rangers, based on his own experiences as a part time ranger, went nowhere. Later, High Sierra Search and Rescue also failed after about eight episodes. He also made the TV-movie Anything to Survive with a young Matt LeBlanc.
Still, Conrad worked rather steadily in TV-movie fare, often in rugged projects or ones that at least had a high quotient of action in them.
An occasional film came along, such as Samurai Cowboy, that put him as a lightly grizzled hand who assists a Japanese businessman who buys a ranch and is swiftly targeted by a competitor who wants it. Catherine Mary Stuart played a cowgirl opposite him.
When the big screen film Wild Wild West was released, featuring Will Smith in his old role, Conrad was pointedly dismissive of the changes made to the concept and publicly lambasted the movie. He wasn’t alone as the movie won five Golden Raspberry “Razzie” Awards and even Smith later apologized to Conrad for having been a part of the celluloid turd.
In recent years, some very unfortunate incidents have punctuated Mr. Conrad’s life. In 2003, he caused a very serious auto accident while intoxicated that
left him with paralysis in his right hand and arm. He was placed on house arrest, followed by probation and the suspension of his license. The other driver was heavily injured in the accident and died two years later at the age of just 28, possibly due to his ongoing condition following the accident.
Even as a golden oldie, Conrad stressed the importance of fitness in his life and still sported rock hard abs even as a senior citizen. However, the inclusion of alcohol in his regimen, even now, makes for an uneasy combination. He currently hosts a weekly radio program called The PM Show with Robert Conrad and youtube.com clips from the recording display him swilling glasses of red wine during breaks. Now a balding, elderly man with thick glasses, it can’t be easy to look back at how things once were.
I prefer to think of Mr. C. when he
was in his prime, a bronzed, beautiful, buff babe whose mere presence onscreen or in a photograph was enough to elicit a gasp from whoever saw him. There have been very few men who possessed the combination of elements that made him one of the dreamiest hunks every to come out of H-town. Fortunately, there is an endless supply of photographs and film to document his existence!