I agree that Bernard’s death is ridiculously anticlimactic, especially following the wonderful build up as Billy Jack approaches the bed and he fires the gun over and over again. I tend to think it should not have been put on screen, but left to the imagination. It seems like the intention was to heighten and generate sympathy for the main character, which is why the murder of Bernard Posner is soft-pedaled and justified in the film. Although Laughlin talks endlessly in commentaries about the “two sides” to people, you never get to see a really dark side of Billy Jack. It would seem to me that a good exercise for Laughlin in making that film would have been to watch the original CAPE FEAR two, no three times through.

Still, the Up Yours scene and the ice cream scene remain for me moments of iconic screen villainy. I don’t agree with the earlier poster who says that David Roya was the first of those smarmy screen villains–his Bernard Posner reminds me of some of those equally aristocratic villains on Dark Shadows, or Alan Arkin’s slimy Mr. Roat in WAIT UNTIL DARK, not to mention the sort of thing that Roddy McDowall used to do extremely well (and was doing in a very celebrated performance as Mordred in CAMELOT). But the performance does reframe those particular villains on a much more human scale.

The politics of the industry are unfortunate, but always there. And I find the descriptions of physical scenes ungoverned by choreography all in the name of the so-called “Method” extremely outrageous. I had to do a short run of a show with an actress who had to slap me onstage and was more or less totally incapable of selling choreography–and I had to give her the green light to slap me for real. And she hit hard. So I know how it feels. Needless to say, I’ve never attempted to work with that director, company, or actress again.

It’s somewhat comforting, I suppose, to learn that the same shenanigans goes on at a much higher level–although no stunt doubles, no SAG contracts? Kind of exactly the reputation that has been hurting indie film for years….

I absolutely Hated Bernard Posner!

I had already been studying Shotokan karate for a number of years and was a Huge Billy Jack fan.
(I didn’t know until much later that Bong Soo Han was the one doing the fight scenes)

As a matter of fact, it was my sensei who introduced me to Master Han, years later.

Mr Roya, it has been a ‘double edged sword’ for the both of us over the years .. My hate for Bernard Posner and Your being responsible for that hate .. Simply because you were/are .. One Hell of a fine actor!! lol

And yes, thanks to David Roya, Bernard Posner was the character who fascinated me most. Sam Tweedle sums up his appeal perfectly. He’s a vicious prick, but given a father like his, who alternately spoils and abuses him, who wouldn’t be? One can picture Bernard’s childhood all too easily: He’s just given up the winning run in the Babe Ruth League playoffs and is yearning to be comforted. His father calls him a pansy, and storms off to shoot mustangs or raise money for Goldwater. Tragedy in the making.

But it’s to Roya’s credit that the character isn’t too sympathetic. Bernard may not like his father, but it’s obvious he likes being his father’s son. If he hasn’t become a hippie, it’s not out of principle, but because he simply can’t imagine life without a Corvette, willing flunkies like Dinosaur, and (had things gone differently) his tuition to ASU paid in full. When Billy Jack deals him a fatal knife-hand to the larynx, we feel bad, but we get over it. It’s not like the sunbelt really needed another cocky real estate baron.

Bernard Posner may not have achieved the iconic status of, say, a Darth Vader, but I would argue he’s influenced American cinema far more than he’s given credit for. He has served as the prototype for an especially loathsome stock figure: the obnoxious rich kid. Before Billy Jack hit theaters, you never saw them; ever since, they’ve been driving their sports cars and dirt bikes out of the woodwork. Johnny Lawrence, the Karate Kid’s leg-sweeping nemesis; the Ted McGinley character in Revenge of the Nerds; the James Spader character in Pretty in Pink; Lorraine Bracco’s would-be rapist in Goodfellas; even Bill Lumbergh in Office Space — all these are Bernard Posner’s progeny. And a fine, vile brood they make.

Like David Roya, I was intrigued that the character had such a Jewish-sounding name. Roya doesn’t say it quite so explicitly, but that’s what he means; being Jewish myself, I savvy the lingo. A Mormon friend swears that most of the town rowdies would have been Mormon, while a Catholic friend has the character of O.K. Corrales, one of Billy Jack’s colleagues at the Freedom School, pegged as a former Jesuit seminarian. (In fact, when Jean Roberts, Billy’s love interest, watches enrapt as Billy experiences mystical communion with a rattlesnake, he points and groans, “That’s it. That’s Vatican-freaking-Two right there!”) By choosing to make the villains Chosen, was Tom Laughlin making some sort of subtle anti-Semitic statement? One hopes not, but if so, Lorne Greene and Michael Landon, two other Jewish boys who looked good scowling over virgin desert, should have dealt him a klop in tuchas.

Anyway, I was very sorry to read that Roya mourns his chances for stardom, but it seems a little premature to give up hope. Comebacks happen — Mickey Rourke managed to claw his way back to the top of the pyramid, and this after wrecking his face and brain in the boxing ring. Lindsay Lohan’s career isn’t dead yet, even though — given the life she’s led — she should be. A bad reputation is bad news, but as Bernard Posner himself might have said, it’s not an insurmountable problem.