Chuck Roberson and his horse Cocaine starred in hundreds of feature films, mostly Westerns, but you may not have seen their names on the credit roll. They were a stunt rider and stunt horse, who made a specialty of TWISTING IN AIR as they mocked a fall to the ground, right in front of the camera.
 
Carol Bradley follows the life and times of this dynamic duo. First, we have to understand how demand came about for this kind of stunt, and the history of Western filmmaking. Nor was the Western the only one; Ben Hur and The Charge of the Light Brigade feature, not in a good way. No early film studio seems to have been in any way respectful of horses and riders, so I’ll gloss over the numbers harmed (but the author does not). Some of the accounts would be unthinkable now. This book is not for the tender, but it will be read with great dawning of understanding by media students and horse lovers everywhere.
 
Protests and campaigns of letter writing by the fledgling American Humane Association and moviegoers brought about change. Tripwires were banned and horses were no longer seen as disposable. A horse that could consistently perform a stunt fall when asked, get up unharmed and mosey on back to the barn with his stuntman, became valuable. Cocaine, named for his lively attitude as a result of being half-Thoroughbred, was a tall chestnut with a white blaze and white socks. He occasionally was dyed to order and stood in for many horses, which performed other tricks or worked on the flat for long stints. Chuck Roberson, who bought the four-year-old and trained him, kept this horse working happily for many years, a testimony to their partnership. But first, they had to overcome a serious barn injury, which might have paid to Cocaine’s career at an early stage.
 
As a child, I read a library book about horses on the silver screen, so I knew Flicka lay in barbed wire which was actually made of rubber and cork, and a cowboy’s horse jumping through a saloon window only broke a pane of clear candy. Now I see this book was probably produced as good propaganda, reassuring audiences of the care shown to the animals. The damage had been done to an earlier generation of horses and actors, not mentioned in the children’s book. Tom Mix and Tony were part of the earlier generation, showing that a few individual horses were valued. But by the time John Wayne walked on set, the AHA had to be present, and if a horse would be asked to fall, the ground was raked for stones, and rubber stirrups were fitted. John Wayne and John Ford, director, made a powerful combination and before long they wanted Chuck Roberson, with Cocaine, on the set of every film they made.
 
Illustrations show the great and good, and the inglorious too. Film history needed this book. I learnt a lot of interesting points, for instance, an actor had to be paid extra if a set was more than 30 miles outside town, so ranches within 30 miles of towns were bought up for film production. As many as three Westerns were turned out each week in one studio, but later, the choicest locations such as Monument Valley had millions of dollars spent on bringing the filming to the place.
 
TWISTING IN AIR by Carol Bradley is a thoroughly researched look at the progress of health and safety at work in film production, during the twentieth century. I am sure we all regret it didn’t progress faster.