In the 1939 film “Jesse James” directed by Henry King, Tyrone Power as Jesse and Henry Fonda as Frank, along with their stand-ins, perform a daring stunt where they gallop their horses off a cliff, falling about 70 feet into Lake of the Ozarks. Regrettably, one horse perished in this scene, while another was hurt.
The American Humane Society strongly criticized an inhumane act as “the worst brutality” and promptly visited the Hays office to urge the film industry to establish stringent guidelines for animal welfare. From now on, no horse’s life will be put at such unnecessary and cruel risk.
The stunt men? They were okay, not that anybody asked.
The event provides a clear indication of the comparative worth of equine meat and less-credited personnel in classical Hollywood cinema. Despite stunt performers sacrificing their abilities, bones, and occasionally their lives for the sake of film entertainment, the efforts of the daredevils, risk-takers, and fortune-seekers often went uncredited and underappreciated.
It wasn’t until the 1970s that the title “stunt coordinator” started to show up frequently in film credits. In 2028, during the Academy Awards ceremony, there will be some amends made by awarding an Oscar for exceptional stunt design – a long-overdue recognition that has been missing since the awards’ inception. This is one of the reasons why The Hollywood Reporter is showcasing the greatest movie stunts ever, filling a nearly century-long void in Oscar recognition.
Similar to many roles in Hollywood, being a stunt performer involves a blend of artistic finesse and technical precision, combining elegant ballet-like movements with meticulous engineering principles (while courage is an essential aspect, it alone isn’t enough). As any experienced stunt coordinator or careful director will confirm, the secret lies in making the stunt appear risky yet remain safe.
As the chaotic methods of the nickelodeon era transitioned into the structured studio system with mechanical equipment, stunt performers began viewing their profession as a serious and professional endeavor, rather than just a daring feat. During the making of “Passage to Marseille” (1944), Harvey Parry from Warner Bros. referred to his team of 22 stuntmen as “safety engineers,” explaining that performing dangerous acts now required science and planning over sheer bravery. Although the job title didn’t stick, the mindset certainly did. Safety became paramount, but sometimes the balance between risk and intelligence was not perfectly maintained.
The role of stunt performers appears to have originated organically from the high-risk action scenes required by the chaotic and adventurous silent films – such as Don Lockwood in Singin’ in the Rain (1952) taking a leap of faith for his debut, risking injury for the chance to perform before the camera. In 1914, an Italian daredevil named Eddie Polo, who had already gained fame in circuses and variety shows, elevated the stuntman to leading roles and taught audiences about the intricacies of the craft. Billed as “the greatest stuntman in films, the man who has thrilled more millions with my daring feats than any other actor in pictures,” Polo starred primarily in two-reelers and serials, performing feats like riding horses off cliffs, jumping from great heights into water, and crashing cars into ravines. It is said that he spent “as much time in hospitals as before the camera.” Retiring from his daredevilry career in 1930, he passed away in 1961 at the age of 86.
Reading through the newspapers from Hollywood’s Golden Age often reveals an alarmingly large number of incidents such as “Stunt Performers Injured” or even “Stunt Performers Lost.” The legends of early cinema are filled with stories of narrow escapes and unfortunate accidents involving horses, cars, and aircraft.
Considering the death-defying feats enacted during the early silent films, it’s astonishing that more people didn’t meet their end. In 1922, John Stevenson tragically lost his life while standing in for Pearl White, a star of the The Perils of Pauline series. When a stunt woman refused to perform a dangerous stunt for less than $500, Stevenson bravely stepped up. He was supposed to leap from the roof of a northbound Fifth Avenue bus and grab a girder at the 72nd Street Station of the Columbus Avenue L elevated line. As the bus raced beneath the station, Stevenson, wearing White’s costume and a blonde wig, attempted the leap. Unfortunately, he missed and fell to the ground below.
In the star system, Stevenson wasn’t the sole casualty. During his stand-in role for silent film icon William Desmond, stuntman Jean Perkins lost his life while leaping from a moving train to snatch a rope ladder dropped by an aircraft diving overhead. He successfully caught the ladder, but the plane lost control and he perished in the ensuing crash. Unfortunately, William Desmond seemed to bring misfortune wherever he went: another stuntman, Max Marks, also met his end while doubling for him in the 1925 film “Strings of Steel“. During a fight scene, a rope snapped and Marks plummeted from a balcony. “The deity of the silver screen is a Moloch demanding human lives!” lamented the fan magazine Screenland.
The thrilling aerial feats took a significant cost in lives and equipment. Following their service during World War I, veteran pilots, still craving the adrenaline surge from airborne battles, recreated their heroics for film in fragile biplanes that appeared to be constructed from thread and cardboard. The compensation was contingent on the danger involved – a flaming plane plummeting to the ground fetched $15, while a similar crash into the sea brought a payday of $40, and so forth. As reported by Film Weekly in 1931, “A high-end parachute jump with a delayed release costs the producer $40.” If the stuntman postponed too long, the money went to his surviving spouse.
In the 1927 movie “Wings”, veteran Lafayette Escadrille pilot William Wellman established a pattern for portraying aerial combat, offering plenty of excitement without any on-screen deaths. However, not all filmmakers were as considerate with their aviator characters’ lives, which is why Virgil “Dick” Grace, a renowned stunt flier, titled his 1931 memoir “I Am Still Alive”. (Grace was known for his death-defying skill of transitioning between planes mid-flight; surprisingly, he passed away from natural causes in 1965.) Unfortunately, Roy Wilson, who had participated in over 65 aerial sequences, didn’t share the same fate. He met his end during the filming of “War Correspondent” by Columbia Pictures in 1932. His plane spiraled out of control at an altitude of 2000 feet and crashed to the ground, taking Wilson’s life.
Interestingly, Wilson had previously lived through what is considered the most perilous stunt assignment in film history – the aerial maneuvers for the movie ‘Hell’s Angels’ (1930), a pet project of the eccentric Howard Hughes. The marketing team capitalized on the number of stuntmen involved in the stunts (“4 Million Dollars and 4 Lives at Stake!”) as a promotional strategy. ‘_Photoplay’_ praised the film for its “heart-pounding romantic tale of how Howard Hughes gambled fortunes and lives to create ‘Hell’s Angels.'” The stuntmen were not recognized in the movie’s credits.
In 1937, the safety and wages of stunt performers significantly improved when they were brought under the protection of the Screen Actors Guild (SAG). Initially, studio executives viewed stunt people as mere props rather than skilled performers. However, SAG argued that stunt men should be considered as extras, with an exception for when they performed special stunts. As a result, horsemen saw their pay rise from $5 a day (for both rider and horse) to SAG rates of $11 a day; trick riders earned $35 a day. Stunt men reciprocated this change in status by standing up for SAG when the Chicago mob attempted to infiltrate the guild. The SAG president, Robert Montgomery, resisted their advances despite threats from the gangsters to disfigure his face with acid. Fortunately, stunt men who acted as Montgomery’s bodyguards provided protection free of charge.
Absolutely, Yakima Canutt is widely regarded as the top-tier figure in the stunt industry, much like how Chuck Yeager is revered among jet pilots. A skilled rodeo rider with a world championship title, Canutt made his way to Hollywood in 1924 and initially found success as a leading man in western films. However, the advent of talking pictures (as his voice didn’t suit his image) led him to focus solely on stunt work. As Charlton Heston, whom he trained for chariot racing in Ben Hur (1959), put it, “Canutt was simply the best there ever was at what he did.” Additionally, Canutt demonstrated remarkable skill not only in performing stunts but also in designing them vertically.
In his role as second-unit director on the 1968 film “Where Eagles Dare”, he carefully planned the climb of a group of agile mountain climbers and stuntmen, along with a shaky cable car that ventured into the skies of the Austrian Alps. From a safer vantage point near sea level, lead actor Clint Eastwood quipped that the movie should have been titled “Where Stunt Doubles Dare”. Canutt’s essential guideline for aspiring stunt artists: “Always keep breathing”, a piece of advice he followed until his death in 1986 at the age of 90.
During World War II, there was a significant lull in stunt work production. It might be that the perilous feats shown in newsreels fulfilled the public’s craving for excitement. Also, maybe the sight of healthy men being put at risk on movie sets when they were needed elsewhere created an image of unnecessary squandering — even though many stunt performers were unable to serve in the military due to injuries sustained during their civilian jobs.
In the 1950s, there was an increase in opportunities with large-scale productions featuring battles and sword fights on grand screens, aerial shots using helicopters for stunts, and regular demands for cowboy stunts in television westerns. A notable example is Cliff Booth, the “pretty boy” stuntman from Quentin Tarantino’s film Bounty Law called Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Notably, one of the advantages of the TV boom was for stuntmen like Jock Mahoney, who transitioned into acting. His advice to aspiring stunt performers was straightforward: “Understand your limits and resist the temptation to do a stunt just one more time,” which was less mysterious than Yakima Canutt’s guidance.
As a die-hard movie enthusiast, I can’t help but marvel at the groundbreaking car chase scene in Peter Yates’s “Bullitt” (1968). This game-changing stunt was orchestrated by Bud Ekins and Loren Janes, who skillfully navigated Steve McQueen’s Ford Mustang GT through the thrilling landscapes of San Francisco’s winding streets. The nail-biting precision of that 11-minute sequence ignited a wave of high-speed pursuits, with films like “The French Connection” (1971), “Vanishing Point” (1971), “Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry” (1974), “Smokey and the Bandit” (1977), and “Cannonball Run” (1981) following suit. Notably, these latter two were directed by stuntman turned director Hal Needham. It was during this era (particularly in 1973-1974) that the title of “stunt coordinator” began to appear regularly in Hollywood action films’ credits. For instance, Bud Ekins wasn’t credited for his work in “Bullitt”, but he did receive recognition for his stunts in William Friedkin’s “Sorcerer” [1977].
The 1970s are renowned as the golden era for high-speed car chases and collisions on screen. Unlike more recent “Fast and Furious” series, cars in these movies were bound by the principles of physics and filmmakers generally opted for continuity editing, extended shots, and adherence to the 180-degree rule.
The tragic accident during the filming of Twilight Zone: The Movie (1982), which resulted in the deaths of actor Vic Morrow and two child actors, serves as a chilling reminder of the dangers of negligence and inexperience. Remarkably, this fatal incident was not categorized as a stunt because professional stunt performers were not involved, but it left an indelible mark on the industry. Subsequently, safety regulations became stricter (particularly for scenes involving aircraft, which required filing detailed flight plans with the Federal Aviation Administration), and the event continues to be a powerful reminder in the collective memory of the profession. Stunt performers who joined the field after 1982 were mentored by those who had experienced the tragedy firsthand, emphasizing that their work is not to be taken lightly.
Back in the day, I found out the hard way that danger was just part of the job: the legendary airshow pilot Art Scholl met his end during the filming of Top Gun (1986), and Dar Robinson, known as Hollywood’s top stuntman, perished while performing a motorcycle stunt for Million Dollar Mystery (1987). Both movies paid tribute to their fallen comrades in a dedication, a gesture of respect that has since become the norm.
Today, apart from the constant threats to safety, stunt performers encounter a fresh professional hurdle due to digital technology. As ‘seeing isn’t always believing’, physical actors performing in the real world can now be replaced with digital images and green screens. In the past, authenticity in cinema was often demonstrated through the single-take, clear shot that clearly showed it was Steve McQueen on a stolen Nazi motorcycle, with his stunt double Ekins crashing into barbed wire in The Great Escape (1963). In simpler terms, nowadays, the use of digital technology allows filmmakers to create the illusion that something dangerous is happening, even when it might not be.
Initially, when I witnessed Tom Cruise dangling from the Burj Khalifa in “Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol” (2011), I thought the scene was created using excellent special effects because no insurance company would cover such a risky act and no actor would be reckless enough to take such chances, even with supposedly secure rigging. Similarly, when I watched “The Fall Guy” (2024), a movie about a stuntman performing incredible stunts directed by former stuntman David Leitch, I also assumed the actual risks were handled by software until the post-credit scene revealed that real-world stunt work was indeed involved.
More and more, it seems that advance promotions and glimpses into the making of a project will serve as a mark of authenticity, confirming that the stunt is the genuine article – just as an earned Oscar from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences will do.
The full list: The Best Stunts of All Time, Over Nearly 100 Years of the Oscars
Read More
2025-06-14 16:25