5 Legendary Actors Who Never Starred In Westerns

There isn’t another film genre more alluring to directors, writers, and actors than the Western, particularly in the U.S. And because there are so many ways to approach the genre, it’s accessible to artists of all creative temperaments. You can go classical, revisionist, spaghetti, acid, zapata, parody, modern, or a hybrid combining some of these sub-genres. You can even set a Western in space à la Peter Hyams’ “Outland.” The possibilities are endless.

So, it’s hardly surprising that it’s hard to name directors who haven’t tackled a Western (Martin Scorsese made his with “Killers of the Flower Moon,” and Steven Spielberg says his next movie will be a “kick-ass” oater). That said, it’s even more difficult to name a major film star who’s never saddled up in some manner or another. Scan through names of legendary actors who seem un-Western like, and they’ve almost certainly got one in their filmography. Jack Lemmon was in Delmer Daves’ “Cowboy” opposite Glenn Ford. Fred Astaire teamed up with Walter Brennan for 1970’s “The Over-the-Hill Gang Rides Again.” And since I count “Killers of the Flower Moon” as a Western, that eliminates Robert De Niro.

There is one all-time great movie star who semi-famously never made a Western, but aside from him, you’ve got to do some digging to find other legends who’ve never dabbled in the genre. Two of the five actors below still have time to giddy up, but the others are, sadly, no longer with us. Please note that I do not count guest appearances on Western TV shows. I’ll count a made-for-TV movie or miniseries, but popping up on an episode of “Gunsmoke” near the end of your career doesn’t qualify. With that out of the way, here are five superstars who never made a Western!

We typically associate George Clooney with suavity, but he has amply proven that he can play rugged (if a little bit clownish) types. His Ulysses Everett McGill in “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” could easily be transplanted from the U.S. South to the West as a hapless, frequently jailed bandit who’s desperate to slip the noose. Judging from his list of 100 favorite movies from 1964 to 1976, Clooney definitely appreciates the genre (films like “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” “Blazing Saddles,” and “High Plains Drifter” are included), but the closest he’s come to heading west is when he was attached to Barry Levinson’s disastrous “Wild Wild West.” Clooney wisely dropped out when he realized Will Smith was getting all the good jokes.

At the age of 65, I could see the Kentucky-born star playing an aging rancher or lawman in a throwback Western. I’d love to see him settle into a character burdened by regret — someone who’s seeking a shred of redemption but maybe knows they haven’t earned it. He can also play a stone-cold killer, as evidenced by his stellar performance in Anton Corbijn’s “The American.” Here’s hoping the right piece of material comes along, and he’s no longer on this list. (Though, after the serious head injury he sustained on the set of “Syriana” and his 2018 motorcycle injury, you probably won’t see Clooney on an actual horse anytime soon.)

Diane Keaton could do anything. She was one of the greatest comedic actors ever and could go toe-to-toe with dramatic titans like Al Pacino, Jack Nicholson, Warren Beatty, and Albert Finney. It’s a shame Clint Eastwood never put together a Western that had a strong enough female lead for Keaton to play (maybe “Two Mules for Sister Sara”), but for whatever reason, Keaton never found an oater role that suited her over the course of her career.

Perhaps it’s because writers and directors couldn’t shake the image of Keaton as free-spirited Annie Hall, or maybe they just saw her as too urbane. I have no idea how Keaton felt about the genre because, near as I can tell, she never talked about it. Obviously, her film legacy is not diminished by the lack of a Western. We got the best of this incandescently talented performer, and that’s all that matters.

When Al Pacino has discussed his favorite movies, he’s expressed an affinity for subtle, lovingly crafted movies like Ermanno Olmi’s “The Tree of Wooden Clogs.” I’ve never seen him talk much about Westerns, but he has spoken highly of one of the genre’s finest actors. “Gary Cooper was kind of a phenomenon,” he said in a 1979 interview with Playboy. “His ability to take something and elevate it, give it such dignity.”

This is fascinating because the Pacino of the 1970s had live-wire energy, but he could rein in the histrionics and convey subtle menace as the cold-hearted Michael Corleone in “The Godfather” and “The Godfather Part II.” There’s something vaguely Cooper-esque there. This doesn’t necessarily translate to Pacino wanting to make a Western, but at 86, he’s working so frequently (he’s appeared in numerous films over the last three years alone) that he may yet make a Western by mistake! Nowadays, he could probably play a wild rancher in a Western riff on “King Lear” or some kind of Prospero in a gunslinging “The Tempest.”

In a brilliant career that spanned close to 60 years, Bette Davis made films in every genre save for one: the Western. This was not for a lack of pleading. In 1959, John Huston approached Davis about co-starring in “The Unforgiven” (no relation to Clint Eastwood’s Academy Award-winning classic). His pitch didn’t go well. “I sweetly asked what my part would be,” Davis recalled. “[John Huston] cleared his throat and said, ‘Burt Lancaster’s mother.’ And I cackled and laughed until tears came to my eyes. I was a mere five years older than Burt. Thanks, but no thanks!”

Later in the 1960s, as Davis found herself scrambling for work, she appeared on Western television shows like “Gunsmoke” and “Wagon Train.” When Bruce Dern came on set for that “Gunsmoke” episode, he broke out in tears because he couldn’t believe an Oscar-winning legend of Davis’ caliber was slumming it on a formula television show. Davis shrugged it off: “Who’s gonna pay for my cigarettes?” Davis could’ve made plenty of Westerns, but Hollywood loved her in melodramas and acerbic masterpieces like “All About Eve.” She was too good for Westerns until she wasn’t. So many missed opportunities.

Cary Grant was and remains the GOAT. Whenever I’ve mentioned him to other stars, they typically cite him as the LeBron James of acting. Screwball, romantic comedies, Hitchcockian thrillers, grand adventures (the man maintained his dignity acting alongside an obstreperous elephant in “Gunga Din”), Grant was always at ease on the big screen. Apparently, he was also a skilled horse rider. So, why did this man never make a Western?

His best friend in the industry, Randolph Scott, was a genre giant and made a superb string of oaters with Budd Boetticher called “The Ranown Cycle.” But Scott was earnest, whereas Grant always carried an air of mischief. Horses for courses, as they say. Maybe Grant would’ve been right for something frivolous like “Destry Rides Again,” but “Gunga Din” is probably the closest we got to Grant engaging in Western-like exploits. We can wonder “what if,” and you can be certain Grant did, too. No one was more mindful of their big screen image (which is why Grant retired instead of segueing to grandfather roles), so it’s best to trust the star’s instincts here.