10 Overlooked 1970s Westerns That Flopped but Are Worth Watching

Westerns have often been reliable box office business. Studios would not have spent so much of the mid-20th century producing cowboy dramas if the genre had not repeatedly delivered substantial profits. Still, commercial success has never been guaranteed. Modern Western misfires such as “A Million Ways to Die in the West” and “The Lone Ranger” are easy examples, but some films that now stand as undisputed classics also struggled badly during their original theatrical runs.

That disconnect was particularly evident in the 1970s. The decade produced its share of successful Westerns, yet traditional frontier stories were increasingly competing with the new kinds of genre filmmaking drawing audiences to theaters. As Westerns lost some of their commercial footing, filmmakers gained room to rethink the genre’s conventions. These five 1970s Western box office flops, all well worth revisiting, reflect both the financial decline and the creative resurgence of cowboy cinema in the era of “Star Wars” and “Jaws.”

There is no single explanation for why these five movies failed to find an audience at the time, just as there is no one reason they later became so admired. Together, though, they illustrate a defining truth of this changing period in American film: artistic achievement did not always translate into ticket sales.

Starring in a blockbuster does not ensure that a performer’s next leading role will become a hit. Margot Robbie’s enormous success with “Barbie,” for example, did not turn 2025’s “A Big Bold Beautiful Journey” into a moneymaker. Likewise, Chris Hemsworth’s memorable turn in “Avengers: Endgame” could not keep “Men in Black: International” from underperforming at the box office. Decades earlier, Peter Fonda discovered just how unpredictable moviegoing audiences could be after the 1969 cultural phenomenon “Easy Rider.”

“Easy Rider” had captivated the public, but that did not mean audiences would automatically show up for every Peter Fonda project, even one he directed himself. That became clear with 1971’s “The Hired Hand,” starring Fonda as Harry Collings, a man whose effort to reclaim the life he left behind after years away goes badly wrong. The film was a box office failure upon release. The 1990 book “Box Office Champs: The Most Popular Movies of the Last Fifty Years” noted that other Westerns, including “Little Big Man,” which began its theatrical run in the final nine days of 1970, performed well.

Though “The Hired Hand” was not what 1971 audiences were looking for, it has endured because of its haunting visual style and other considerable strengths. Martin Scorsese has called it a masterpiece. In the end, Fonda did find a measure of post-“Easy Rider” success—just not immediately at the box office.

More films ought to put the word “ballad” in their titles. It is inherently lyrical, promising viewers something more distinctive than an ordinary story. Unfortunately, the disappointing box office performance of “The Ballad of Cable Hogue” was unlikely to convince Hollywood to follow its lead. Sam Peckinpah directed the film in 1970, only a year after his 1969 landmark “The Wild Bunch.” Where that earlier Western startled audiences with its maximalist style, “Cable Hogue” moved fluidly between tones and frequently embraced a more restrained approach.

The result was a Western that never connected commercially. The tonal shifts and complexities of “The Ballad of Cable Hogue” did not provide the kind of experience audiences typically expected from the genre. That set it apart from “The Wild Bunch,” which delivered an exaggerated, blood-soaked version of familiar Western elements. Moviegoers largely passed on “The Ballad of Cable Hogue,” but critics responded warmly, and that praise has lasted. Peckinpah’s inventive take on the Western, paired with the film’s many memorable performances, has secured “Cable Hogue” a sterling reputation.

A remarkable number of the 95 best movies of the ’70s arrived in 1972, a notably strong year for cinema that was especially rich for Westerns. The releases of “Jeremiah Johnson” and “Buck and the Preacher” alone made 1972 a landmark year for the genre. Yet artistic prosperity did not mean every Western released that year generated major profits.

Consider “Ulzana’s Raid,” from acclaimed filmmaker Robert Aldrich. Burt Lancaster stars as McIntosh, one of the men assigned alongside Ke-Ni-Tay (Jorge Luke) and Lt. Garnett DeBuin (Bruce Davison) to pursue and stop an Apache named Ulzana. The film develops into an unflinching examination of the genocidal violence inflicted on Indigenous people by American settlers. Those bleak, forceful qualities make “Ulzana’s Raid” artistically potent, but they also left the film with little chance of competing at the box office against more audience-friendly Westerns.

The same qualities that may have alienated moviegoers in 1972 have led to praise for “Ulzana’s Raid” today, with Lancaster’s performance considered by many to be one of his finest. Tragically, its saga of settlers tormenting indigenous populations is still relevant today. 

In his review of the 1970 feature “Monte Walsh,” Roger Ebert observed that the film was one of several then-recent Westerns to carry a grimmer tone, rooted in the idea that the age of cowboys was coming to an end. This trait certainly permeated the Western at the dawn of this new era, possibly as a result of changing moviegoing tastes. With the New Hollywood movement in full swing and fresh visions of mainstream American cinema dominating theaters, filmmakers were gravitating more towards Westerns that actually confronted the idea of a changing world.

Such a potent, melancholy ambiance wasn’t enough to save “Monte Walsh” from a grim box office fate, with the film failing to break even on its $5 million budget. Though “Monte Walsh” didn’t come close to reaching the financial heights of the most successful Western ever, it did join the rarified pantheon of beloved Westerns that were also box office flops. Today, “Monte Walsh” remains highly lauded, thanks to its contemplative and even quasi-existential tone. A top-tier cast, including an achingly good Lee Marvin in the lead role, certainly hasn’t hurt its artistic standing either.

Though it’s been decades since “Monte Walsh” debuted, people still grapple with encroaching mortality and the concept that the world is passing them by. So long as those emotions fester in people’s souls, this 1970 feature will have no trouble inspiring people to be as passionate about “Monte Walsh” as Roger Ebert.

Box office success wasn’t guaranteed for leading men who took off with late ’60s counterculture hits before trying to headline ’70s Westerns. Warren Beatty’s 1967 breakthrough, “Bonnie and Clyde,” was a sensationally popular project that spoke to the era’s youth culture and their desire to rebel against authority. But his second movie after making film history with “Bonnie and Clyde” was “McCabe & Mrs. Miller,” an unorthodox take on the Western from director Robert Altman.

As author Peter Biskind noted in his book “Easy Riders, Raging Bulls: How the Sex-Drugs-and-Rock ‘N Roll Generation Saved Hollywood,” one of the many ways “McCabe & Mrs. Miller” subverted audience expectations for the Western was in its ending, which covered the marketable Beatty’s dead face in snow. This approach upended the star-driven nature of Westerns up to that point, which were all about wringing every possible dollar out of, say, John Wayne’s craggy countenance. 

Alas, neither those idiosyncratic qualities nor Beatty’s post-“Clyde” reputation saved “McCabe & Mrs. Miller” from falling over at the ticket counter. Though it lost a good chunk of change in its initial theatrical release, those unusual artistic flourishes have kept “McCabe & Mrs. Miller” lingering around as one of Altman’s all-time masterpieces.