OBSCURITIES FROM THE DISNEY VAULT #4OF4: "DAVY CROCKETT AND THE RIVER PIRATES", OR THE BABY YODA OF THE 50S

By Taylor Zaccario 

From the moment Baby Yoda first appeared on TV screens, consumers across the globe went scrambling to get their mitts on any kind of merchandise with the little green guy’s face slapped on it. This was not the first time a Disney connected TV series sent viewers into a buying-frenzy. In the 50s, a similar craze spread across the country (and in the UK). That time it didn’t center around an infant alien, iPhone covers, and Emojis. That time it was all about coonskin caps, bubble gum, and a ballad about a man born on a mountaintop in Tennessee. 

Between December 15, 1954, and February 23, 1955, Walt Disney’s ABC anthology series aired three episodes of a miniseries about real-life folk hero Davy Crockett. Starring Fess Parker as the legendary frontiersman and Buddy Ebsen as his fictional best friend, George Russell, the series unexpectedly set off a shopping craze. 

Kids across the USA wanted Davy Crockett apparel, most iconically the coonskin cap Crockett wore in the series, but also T-shirts, books, and toys. The show’s theme song (a genuine ear worm), “The Ballad of Davy Crockett”, stayed atop the Hit Parade for 16 weeks, and three different covers of the tune charted highly in Billboard magazine. The so-called “Crockett craze” even spread to the UK. It’s reported that Disney made $300 million off the merchandizing alone. (In typical House of Mouse style, Fess Parker was screwed out of the profits). 

The popularity of the three episodes was so unforeseen that Walt regretted killing off his coonskin-capped cash cow at the end of episode 3. Remember the Alamo? Walt certainly did. Ever the pragmatist, Disney devised ways to keep the money-ball rolling. First he produced two prequel episodes of Davy Crockett, airing on November 16, 1955, and December 14, 1955, respectively. Then he had the 5 episodes edited into two separate feature length films. 

The first three episodes formed the basis of Davy Crockett: King of the Wild Frontier, debuting in theaters on May 25, 1955. The prequel episodes were strung together into Davy Crockett and the River Pirates, rowing onto movie screens on July 18, 1956. In those far off days before endless reruns, home video, and streaming, (and because of the Crockett craze’s extraordinary popularity), audiences didn’t mind paying for something they watched at home for free. There was also an added bonus: In the home, Davy Crockett was seen in black-and-white; in the movie theatre, the compilation films were in Technicolor. 

No surprise that the stories in each film vary a great deal from historical fact. And, yes, the reductive treatment of Native Americans and the use of redface for white actors is outdated, unfortunate, and icky. In that way, the films are not so much an accurate depiction of frontier realism as they are a spyglass trained on the insensitive American norms of the 50s. Personally, I believe you can both acknowledge something as inappropriate and problematic, while still finding other elements that are enjoyable. 

Both movies were frequent guests of my VHS player. Though the first film is the better, growing up I always had a soft spot for the more fun prequel, Davy Crockett and the River Pirates. In it, Crockett and Russell are forced into a keelboat race down the Ohio River against another folk hero from American Frontier history/legend, Mike Fink, played by the wonderfully over the top Jeff Yorke. (I distinctly remember being in the 4th grade when we learned about famous American folk heroes and being the only kid who knew Mike Fink — no one else saw Davy Crockett and the River Pirates.) 

Though it lacks King of the Wild Frontier's pathos, River Pirates is less episodic and more unified in its storytelling, creating a straightforward, highly entertaining adventure story. Breathtaking cinematography, filmed on location in Cave-In-Rock, Illinois, and the chance to watch Parker and Ebsen rub shoulders with talents like Yorke and the inimitable Walter Catlett, make this a more than enjoyable (and quick, only 92 minutes) watch. I also challenge anyone to not come away humming a song called “Yaller Gold.”

So the next time you feel stupid for buying those Baby Yoda undies, just remember that someone once purchased a fake dead raccoon to wear on their head.