Behind the Scenes: Hard Times (Hill, 1975) with Charles Bronson and James Coburn

Fantastic behind the scenes
10 followers
7 Video Views·Aug 30, 2026
This audio-visual film commentary has been extensively edited, dubbed and transformed by Serious Feather in an original and thoughtful manner for historical, cultural and educational purposes.
AI Generated·May contain errors
Video Summary
AI GeneratedThis retrospective discussion explores the production of the film *Hard Times*, detailing the transition of its director from writer to filmmaker. The speakers examine the challenges of casting Charles Bronson, the influence of Raoul Walsh's visceral storytelling, and the technical logistics of filming in New Orleans on a tight budget, while highlighting a lifelong partnership between the producer and director.
Now, tell me, how'd you make money?
I knock people down.
You mean like a prize fighter?
No, they're pick-up fights.
The money's made on bets.
What does it feel like to knock somebody down?
It makes me feel a hell of a lot better than it does him.
1933. America had hit the skids.
People were out of work and out of luck.
Third refill costs a nickel.
Life was as tough as a cheap steak.
Suppose you've been down the long, hard road.
It hasn't.
It was hard times.
I got a husband in jail.
No job and no prospects.
I don't look past the next bend in the road.
A man had to live by his wits.
Well, my man's just starting out.
It's good, but I have to get long odds.
What kind of odds you talking about?
Five to one.
Three to one.
D!
Or by his fists.
Columbia Pictures presents Hard Times.
Starring Charles Bronson as Cheney.
A drifter.
When I get enough change in my pocket, I'm gone.
A loner.
Are you gonna stay the night?
Not this time.
A man who spoke soft.
I barely know you.
Yeah, but would you like to?
And hit hard.
James Coburn as Speed.
A born con man.
50-50 on all scratch bets and expenses.
All side bets, I keep 75%. That's how it works.
Who can make a fortune in a day.
I propose a toast to the best man I know.
Me.
And lose it in a minute.
I'm flat broke. I need some money fast.
What the hell are you doing?
You don't want no trouble.
Just you pay your debts.
Speed was the hustler.
It was too damned easy.
There ain't no rules about that, except who wins.
Cheney was the hitter.
You ever get scared when you do your work?
I don't think about it.
Together, they just couldn't be beat.
You give us our damn money now.
If you want that money, take it.
Use it.
You want to see another?
Charles Bronson, James Coburn, Jill Ireland, and Strother Martin.
They're a knockout.
In hard times.
I had started a young director named John Milius.
Gave him his first directing job on a movie called Dillinger.
He was a big screenwriter.
He would work for the small writer's deal that we were able to offer at American International Pictures.
To get a chance to direct, he cut his screenplay price.
I did it very successfully with him.
Decided I would try with another big screenwriter, and that was Walter Hill.
I had bought a script from two young writers called Street Fighter.
It was not a very good script, but it was a good idea.
That became the idea for Hard Times.
Walter had written The Getaway, a famous Steve McQueen movie, for Sam Peckinpah.
I was writing The Drowning Pool for Paul Newman.
He had a very good reputation as a nice, solid citizen.
I called him in, told him what I wanted to do, and he said okay.
I had a three-year deal at Columbia, overall deal.
This was one of the first projects that I bought under my deal.
That's how it ended up at Columbia.
They had the first shot at anything that I wanted to do.
This was a project I presented to them that they liked.
Well, Columbia was on its ass.
The stock was way down.
It had a new head of the studio, David Degelman, who made the deal to bring me over from AIP.
They were desperate for movies, thank God.
I had a deal to make low-budget movies.
We were thinking about making this with an actor named Joe Don Baker,
who had been in a movie called Walking Tall, successfully a low-budget movie.
We were thinking in terms of Joe Don.
Then we got the idea, what about Charlie Bronson?
Charlie Bronson, he doesn't have a movie right now.
He's the biggest star in the world.
When I went over to pitch this to David Degelman to tell him and his staff we were going to go after Charlie Bronson,
everybody laughed.
They said, you'll never get Charlie Bronson to work with a first-time director.
It's never going to happen.
If you want to waste your time, go ahead.
I said, we want to waste our time.
Yeah, we want to try it.
He had an agent, a very highly respected agent,
and we sent the script to him.
He liked it and gave it to Charles to read.
To our surprise, amazement and shock,
Colin said that Mr. Bronson would meet with us and discuss the project,
which the Columbia executives could not believe we'd gotten that far.
It was a tense meeting because Charlie made you tense.
Charlie had his persona and all of his movie parts at that time was toughest guy alive.
He had that face that made you say, this is one tough guy.
One of the first things he said was, what makes you think I can play this part?
I'm not that big.
He wasn't like a big man.
He wasn't much taller than I am, but very ripped.
He was very muscular.
But the face is what made you think Charlie Bronson could do what he did.
And his kind of iconic style, to the point about everything.
The rapport became better as we went along.
It started out a little rough, but once it went along,
I think Charlie knew he was making a good movie.
And he hadn't been thrilled with the movies he'd been making,
even though they paid him a lot of money.
And he knew he was doing great work and that we were doing good work.
And so the relationship got better.
He was a difficult man to work with.
Very difficult actor for us.
And put us through our paces on a daily basis.
You know, letting us know that we didn't know that much, and he did.
Very impatient, wants to shoot all of that.
Didn't like waiting at all.
And you could hear him in the background.
He was very private, go sit by himself.
Take his chair and go over and sit by himself.
I'd talk to anybody, read the paper.
Smoke a cigarette, sit over it.
But you'd hear him go, shoot! Shoot!
In other words, I'm ready, let's go.
What are you waiting for? Shoot!
So, you know, we rolled with the punches and got it done.
He was a great guy to work with.
A lot of fun.
Wonderful character.
And did a great job in the movie.
We had one meeting with him where he was playing the gong.
He used to play a gong in his house.
He was a very laid-back guy, to say the least.
And we went in to see him.
He was playing the gong in his living room.
And robes.
It was quite something.
They worked together on maybe more than one movie.
Yeah, they did Magnificent Seven.
They did The Great Escape.
Yeah, so they knew each other quite well.
But the roles were kind of reversed.
When they worked together,
Coburn was probably a bigger star than Charlie.
And now Coburn was coming in as a second banana.
So there was a little bit of payback in Charlie.
He couldn't resist.
Struthers is one of the great character actors of all time.
And what a privilege to work with him.
Cool Hand Luke and all the stuff that he's done.
He was sensational to work with.
He'll give you anything you want.
That's when Charlie wanted to play his girlfriend.
And we didn't have the strength to say no.
Being beginners, we were lucky.
I think if you wanted him, he made it clear
that she would be, as he said, perfect for the role.
And we agreed.
Well, it was written for New Orleans.
And I think Walter had some locations in his mind.
But we had good people, location managers,
people showing us around.
And we had no problem finding a great location.
Which was great for me because I went to Tulane University
and this was my homecoming.
And on a daily basis, I had all kinds of visitors
and friends I went to school with and close friends.
And it was fantastic.
I loved the city and knew the city very well.
We ended up, the last scene was shot in a oyster warehouse
where they shuck oysters.
That big warehouse where they'd be last fight.
Phil Lathrop, wonderful, fantastic person.
And he was a choice of Walter's.
And I certainly agreed with it.
Father, son, teacher, student.
He was just a sensational guy.
Terrific, great cinematographer.
We had a wonderful stunt gaffer named Max Clevin.
A very experienced stunt gaffer.
Walter chose him.
He and Walter were the stuntmen that we used.
And to a lesser degree me, I was there.
But they choreographed the fights.
And it's very difficult when you're choreographing fights
that involve the biggest star in the world.
Because he has his ideas and, you know,
some of them are not so good.
But I thought Walter did a great job
of working out the fights with Max
and filled it with a cinematographer.
And Roger Spottiswood, our editor,
became part of the team
that makes sure we get the right coverage for the fights
and so forth.
And, you know, it worked out great.
Walter knew what he wanted to do.
He worked on the script at night
and worked on the storyboards
and knew what he was going to shoot to a degree.
And pretty much knew what he wanted it to look like.
And he got what he wanted.
We shot for 42 days.
It was very short.
And we only went over, I think we ended up at 43 days.
And the budget paying Charlie $3 million
was the highest paid actor in the world at that time.
I think the movie was about,
it was under $4 million, I think.
I think we only made the movie like a million dollars
or something like that.
I'm not sure what the budget was,
but it wasn't very much.
Most of it was Charlie's salary.
Walter and I used to laugh about it
because I would say, Walter,
if I brought you the script today,
now that you're a big shot director,
you'd be laughing at me.
But we did what we had to do.
It was how many days we could get them to give us.
And so we made it work.
We had a couple of issues in post-production,
but we worked through them.
And we liked the movie very much.
We were very pleased with it.
And we really thought and still think
it's the best movie Charlie ever made.
But he didn't like it when he first saw it.
It wanted all kinds of cuts.
Things changed.
And he was very upset.
We cut quite a bit of Jill Allen
out of the movie,
and he didn't like that,
among other things.
And so we stuck to our guns,
and the studio didn't make us cut anything.
They liked the movie.
At this point, they thought it was great.
And so we basically got the movie
that we wanted to make,
and Walter shot.
I think secretly,
he sat down.
He knew it was really a good movie for him.
A great role.
And people liked it.
They had a very good reaction.
You know, in those days,
it wasn't like it is now.
You're opening 5,000 theaters,
and the whole world goes crazy.
The movie had to build and grow,
and Charlie had too many movies out.
And it was kind of like
a little Bronson fatigue at that point.
But we did it quite well.
The studio ended up making money.
We made some profits on it.
And it's a favor to people.
People walk in my office,
they see the one sheet,
and they always say,
oh my God, I love that movie.
Walter and I have made seven films
as producer and director,
and we've never had a real argument
to speak of,
and that's kind of unusual.
We're still friends,
and that's great.
And I love his writing.
His writing is always sensational.
And a wonderful director,
and just a good friend
and a great collaborator.
Walter is a very,
extremely well-read individual,
and just a very deep thinker.
And he's a very considerate,
kind man,
and a gentle man.
I used to say,
and I still say,
if I could have made
all my movies with Walter,
I'd probably live about
another 25 years longer.
He's the ideal collaborator
in this business of people
who don't like to collaborate
sometimes.
And I never saw him
mistreat anybody.
Seven movies,
a lot of movies to work together.
A lot.
And I never saw him misbehave.
I never saw him
mistreat any crew.
The great thing,
he never mistreated anybody
above the line or below the line.
Crews loved him.
Because he was crew.
He was an AD.
He was a PA and an AD.
So he loved the crew,
and the crew loved him.
And that was a great experience.
I haven't had it too many times
in my 50 years of doing this stuff.
And every time I got to work
with Walter,
it didn't really matter
whether the movie worked or not.
It didn't really matter.
It was going to be a good experience.
And I was going to be
with an old friend
and getting along
with an old friend.
And we disagreed on things,
but it was never contentious.
It was never nasty.
It was always people
who respect each other
disagreeing.
And somebody giving in.
But it was never,
you know, I'm the director,
you're the producer,
you're the new guy,
I'm the big producer.
It was never anything like that.
It was always I did my job,
he did his.
And it turned out pretty well.
We got some pretty good movies
that we're proud of
and stand the test of time.
Well, Larry was an executive
at AIP,
and I was a young screenwriter.
By a mutual friend.
And we went to lunch,
we talked.
We talked about the kind of things
that maybe we'd like to do.
He knew I wanted to direct,
and he knew I wanted to be
an action director
and what they used to call
an action director,
do action films.
And he wanted to be,
he was already
a very successful executive,
but he really wanted to produce.
He wanted to
see himself as
one of the regular suits
that run studios and things.
He's always been
back and forth a little bit
ambivalent about that,
but he wanted to produce.
So he made a deal
soon thereafter at Columbia Pictures
he was to make
low budget action movies.
And he called me,
called me up.
It was the
I want you to write the script
for absolute minimum,
and we'll pay you
absolute minimum to direct,
but I'll let you direct.
And he said,
at least that way
I'll get a good script
and hopefully.
And he said,
you know,
you can't be any worse a director
than most of them I've been
working with.
That was Milius accepted.
He had had a success
with John
on Dillinger.
He wanted to,
it was off the strength
and bounce of Dillinger
that he made his deal
with Columbia.
And they wanted to repeat
those kind of successes.
I came into directing
having directed nothing.
I mean, nobody was less qualified.
I had not directed
a play,
a commercial,
a television show.
I had directed
absolutely nothing.
I had never worked
creatively with actors.
I had been,
as an assistant,
I'd been on sets.
I'd worked
and made a living as a writer
for
just a few years,
but
I knew how to,
I knew how to talk
to directors.
I wasn't,
but I knew actors,
you know,
it wasn't like they were
total strangers to me
or something like that.
I think the biggest thing
that being an assistant
helped was
I was not intimidated
when I went to the set.
I think a lot of
first-time directors,
you know,
what's a gaffer?
What's a grip?
What's a,
like, you know,
what are these,
what do all these people do?
How do they do it?
How do I fit in
in the,
you know,
how do I take charge
without
offending everybody?
And,
you know,
it's the old,
how do I get my way,
whether it's quietly
or
otherwise?
I think I understood
the protocols
of working on set.
And I think that
had to do with me
having been
an assistant
on several movies
and
I think that was
very helpful.
The most,
the most fun
I ever had
talking about directing,
I had an afternoon
with Raoul Walsh.
That was,
that was a good time.
Interesting.
Peckinpah,
certainly,
he and I
would discuss
directing,
but he,
he was rather enigmatic
in his,
and cautionary
in his advice
and,
you know,
you sure you want
to get into this?
And,
kind of approach.
Well, Raoul Walsh
was
a great director
and he was a particularly,
I think,
great American director
in that
his films
embody
so many of
what seems to me
to be the,
the virtues
of the American cinema.
A kind of clean
and
visceral
storytelling.
He had an artistic
principle,
I don't,
don't know he ever
expressed it,
but
one that I've always
admired,
I've never been able
to live up to it,
but that every shot
progresses the story,
progresses the narrative.
There's no wasted
there's nothing wasted
in Raoul Walsh.
And I think this is
really fundamental
to the American
approach to making films
and I think he did it,
you know,
much better than,
than most of his
peers and
contemporaries.
They're no-nonsense
movies and I actually
think
I probably
came closer
to the
Walshian
ideal.
I,
again,
don't want to throw
myself in the
side of the gods,
I fell
considerably
short,
but I probably
came closer
to
the Walsh
principles in
hard times than I
think I ever did
after that.
I thought
a simple
and direct
style,
but one that
was
not overstated
in any
way
would serve
the,
would serve
it best.
And so I used
very laconic
actors,
obviously,
who were very
comfortable
within that style.
Charlie was,
I don't want to
take too much
credit for
Charlie being
in the movie
because the truth
is I resisted
the idea at first.
Although he was,
he was a gift
and I would be
less than
honest
if I didn't
say that
out of his
performance
and what
he gave the
film,
in the long run
I think it gave
me a career.
You know,
the movie
was a success.
It did
pretty well
financially.
And for
an action
movie and
for a
Bronson movie
it was very
well received.
But I
just thought
he was too
old for
the part.
I mean,
it wasn't,
I admired
Bronson.
I thought
particularly
in the
Leone
film,
but
I
had seen
Charlie do
any number
of things
when I was
a young
fella.
And he
certainly had
a style of
acting that
I thought
if used
properly
was very
effective.
I love
actors that
can throw
a look
and command
a moment
just off
a look.
And I
always thought
that he,
above all,
had that
quality.
And I
really
appreciated,
this sounds
like a
joke,
I really
appreciated
the kind
of flat
line readings
because I
thought it
was very
real.
I thought
it was
a kind
of
non-theatrical
approach.
I don't
think Charlie
always thought
so.
And I
don't think
he would
appreciate
my
description
of it.
But the
kind of
flat,
laconic
style of
delivery,
I thought
could be
very
effective
in certain
places.
And it's
counterpoint
to what
you usually
expect.
Well,
street fighting
was illegal.
It was
during the
depression.
These were,
I think,
the hard
times was
really kind
of based
on, I'm
not talking
about the
origins of
the script
now.
It had
gone through
many phases
before I
got in
the picture.
But stories
that I heard
from my
grandfather and
my father
about things
that would
happen back
in the
30s,
the kind
of desperate
times that
people had
and the
things that
they would
do for
money.
If you look
over on the
wall over
there, you'll
see a
wonderful
picture taken
of my
grandfather
in the
1920s
on a
drilling
rig in,
I believe
it's in
Taft,
California.
He was
very fond
of telling
the story.
They had
a guy in
the oil
fields who
was their
big tough
guy.
My
grandfather was
rather an
athlete.
He had
been
something of
a tramp
athlete in
his school
days and
had boxed
a little.
But they
had a guy
in the
oil fields
that was
their local
champion who
would fight
for money
against the
champions of
other drilling
outfits or
other oil
fields down
the road,
that kind of
thing, other
oil patches.
And there
was some
guy that
showed up,
Hobo, who
was looking
for some
food and
he said,
happened to
see the
fight or
something,
said, you
know, you
guys feed me
for a while
and I'll
take care of
the other
guys.
I'll fight and
I'll take care
of them.
You guys will
win your
bets.
And he
said, you
know, the
son of a
bitch.
It was
true.
He won
two or
three fights.
They won
money.
And they
woke up one
morning and
he was
gone.
And that
was it.
He had
jumped on a
train or
something like
that.
My grandfather
never, you
know, he
never got tired
of telling
this.
They had
absolutely no
idea what
ever happened
to this
guy, young
guy.
You know,
the ghost.
Jimmy really
didn't particularly
want to be in
the movie.
He didn't
want to play
second lead.
He had
been a
lead in
many things.
He found
out that I
had written
the part for
Warren Oates.
I don't think
Jimmy thought
that he should
be taking
parts that
were designed
for Warren
Oates, shall
we say.
He didn't
particularly want
to be in
Charlie Bronson
movie either.
Not that he
had contempt
or anything
for Charlie,
but he had
been in a
lot of
Bronson
movies while
they were
young actors
coming up
the character
parts together.
I think two
or three times
they had
worked together.
And
suddenly,
he who
had been
his peer
was now
number one
on the
call sheet
and Jimmy
was no longer
number one.
He didn't
particularly want
to do the
movie, but
he needed
money.
I always
thought the
character, there
was a couple
of problems.
I always thought
the character
was a lot
seedier than
Jimmy.
Jimmy always
looked good.
I mean, it
was just
something about
you could
put him
in crappy
clothes and
all that.
He just
looked good.
He was
very slim.
He had
a natural
elegance
about him.
And
especially
when you
stood him
up next to
Charlie,
who was a
much shorter
and
compact.
Jimmy had
that smile.
so he
kind of
could make
any moment
rather elegant.
so
I was
terribly worried
that he was
a little too
elevated for
the thing.
Because the
man was meant
to be a
desperate man.
And
it worked
out fine.
I mean,
it was,
you know,
director
paranoia.
you know,
happens every
film, doesn't
it?
Brother
Martin,
wonderful
performance.
I had
written the
part just
the way it
is in
the film,
and we
couldn't
find anybody
to play
the part.
We read
actor after
actor.
It just
sounded so
phony and
so hollow
and so
pretentious.
And
we just
couldn't
just
couldn't
cast it.
And
finally we
went to
New Orleans
and we
were starting
the movie.
And
we still
were stuck.
I said,
I remember
saying to
Larry,
I said,
maybe I
should just
rewrite the
part and
make it
kind of a
more normal
guy or
something like
that.
And Larry
comes into
the trailer
about an
hour later
between
shots and
says,
would you
go with
Brother
Martin?
Brother
Martin
read it,
wants to
play the
part.
And I
went,
Brother
Martin,
yeah.
Great.
Put him
on the
plane.
And he
arrives the
next day.
He walks
in and
he's Brother
Martin.
I'd never met
him before.
And he
says,
well,
I really
admire the
script.
I'd like
to play
it like
I was
Tennessee
Williams.
I said,
great.
He said,
do you want
me to
rehearse a
little?
I said,
no.
I think I
know what
you mean.
Let's get
you going
in costume
and all
that.
So we
got him
a little
Tennessee
Williams.
And then
we had a
little tiff
towards the
end of the
movie.
He had
gotten a
little angry
at my
direction,
I think.
And he
kind of
jumped at
me and
he said,
oh,
you always
just say
the same
thing.
Do it
less.
Cut it
in half.
You always
say the
same thing.
Don't
worry
about it.
And I
never had
a harsh
word with
him.
So I
think I was
kind of
bruised.
And he
then came
to me the
next day.
It was the
last day.
And he
thanked me
and he
gave me,
I've got it
over there
in the
bookcase,
he gave
me a
book of
Whitman's
poems with
a beautiful
description
that he
wrote.
And he
said he
was sorry
that he
just,
and we
got along
great.
We saw
each other
a couple
of times.
We never
got a
chance to
work together
again.
And he
got pretty
sick not
too long
after the
movie.
But,
again,
I was a
very lucky
fellow to
be able
to be
associated
with him
and what
he,
you know,
what these
people give
you sometimes
is so
extraordinary.
And I
can honestly
say this,
that I
cannot,
and I
think it's
the best
thing you
can almost
always say
about an
actor,
I can't
imagine
anybody else
playing the
part.
Phil Lather
probably,
you know,
I'm now
an old
director.
At that
time,
I was very,
I don't
think I
ever really
learned more
about being
a director
from any
one person
than Phil
Lather.
And Phil,
I did
my first
two movies
with Phil.
He was
a very
calm and
gentle and
gentlemanly
person.
He was
a real
master of
low-key
color lighting.
And I
had hired
him because
I liked his
work on
Point Blank
so much.
He,
I remember
a rather
nice moment
that I had
with Phil.
It was,
he came
by to
say hello
when we
were getting
the equipment
together and
you know,
packing up
the trucks
to go to
Louisiana and
all that.
And he was
supervising the
camera equipment
and he
stuck his
head in
the office
to see me
and he
kind of
caught me
in a mood
and he
said,
you seem
a little
down.
And I
said,
well,
yeah,
I think
somehow the
enormity of
this is
kind of
catching up
with me.
And he
said,
well,
what are
you worried
about?
And I
said,
well,
I'm not
sure that
it's going
to turn
out all
right.
Is it
going to
cut together
and will
I make
the right
kind of
decisions?
And he
said,
look,
stop.
He said,
this movie
is going
to look
fine.
He said,
I'll make
sure of
that.
He said,
this movie
is going
to look
fine and
it's going
to cut
together.
He said,
I don't
shoot movies
that don't
cut together.
And he
said,
if we
shoot
something
and the
editor can't
cut it,
I'll
come down
to the
editor and
I'll cut
it for him.
He said,
so you
don't have to
worry about
is this
movie going
to look
good and
you don't
have to
worry
that it
cut
together.
And he
said,
it's not
my
department,
but as
far as I
can see,
we have
a very
good story
here,
a very
good script
and we
have a
good cast.
He said,
the hard
thing about
being a
director is
making
everybody get
along and
you get
your way,
is making
sure that
everybody is
working on
the same
movie and
everybody,
and he
was absolutely
100% right,
that most
of what is
technically
perceived to
be so
difficult about
movies, you
have a lot
of people
helping you,
but the
real critical
thing is
getting
everybody to,
the hardest
thing is
directing
yourself and
the next
hardest thing
is making
sure that
everybody is
on the
same page
as you
and doing
what you
need them
to do to
get there,
to get
your ideas
across.
And Phil
was absolutely
right about
that.
He taught me
the best
lesson I
think that,
I think maybe
intuitively I
knew it,
but hearing it
made me feel so
much better.
Also I loved
hearing,
don't worry,
it's going to
cut together
and it's
going to
look good,
so.
That's
So if you
have any
