You’ve probably seen some weird movie pairings in your time, but nothing quite prepares you for the sight of a baby-faced, 26-year-old Clint Eastwood playing the "goo-goo eyed" love interest to a boisterous Carol Channing.
It actually happened.
The movie is called The First Traveling Saleslady, and if you haven’t heard of it, there is a very good reason. Released in 1956, it wasn’t just a box office flop; it was one of the final nails in the coffin for RKO Pictures, a studio that was basically running on fumes by the mid-fifties.
Honestly, the backstory of this film is way more interesting than the movie itself. We're talking about a project originally meant for Mae West, a production that literally took place in a dying studio, and a plot that tries to make selling barbed wire look like a feminist revolution.
The Bizarre Plot of The First Traveling Saleslady
So, here’s the setup. Ginger Rogers stars as Rose Gillray, a corset designer in 1897 New York who is a vocal supporter of women's suffrage. When her corset business goes south—partly because a stage show featuring her designs gets raided by the police for being too risqué—she finds herself deep in debt.
The man she owes money to is Jim Carter, a steel magnate played by David Brian. Instead of just suing her, he suggests marriage. Rose, being a "liberated woman," says no thanks.
Instead, she cuts a deal to sell his inventory of barbed wire out west.
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Why Barbed Wire?
At the time, barbed wire was actually a pretty controversial product. Cattle ranchers hated it because it injured their livestock, and the salesmen who tried to hawk it were often run out of town or worse. Rose figures that as a woman, she won’t get lynched, so she grabs her friend Molly (Carol Channing) and heads for Texas.
The movie then turns into a weird "jalopy western."
You've got horse-drawn carriages competing with "horseless carriages," a young James Arness (just starting his Gunsmoke fame) playing a skeptical rancher, and a lot of very 1950s-style humor that hasn't exactly aged like fine wine.
Behind the Scenes at a Dying Studio
Making The First Traveling Saleslady was, by all accounts, a depressing experience. RKO Radio Pictures was a mess. Howard Hughes had basically gutted the company before selling it to General Teleradio, and by 1956, the studio was a ghost town.
Carol Channing once famously said that this was "the picture that killed RKO."
That might be a bit of hyperbole, but not by much. While they were filming, departments were closing down around them. You’d finish a scene, walk outside, and find that the costume department or the prop shop had been shuttered overnight.
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The Casting Carousel
It’s wild to think about who was supposed to be in this.
- Mae West: The role of Rose was originally written for her, which makes sense given the sassy, corset-heavy premise.
- Betty Grable: She was officially set to star in late 1955 but eventually dropped out.
- Ginger Rogers: She stepped in as a favor or perhaps just to fulfill a contract. She was 43 at the time and later called it a "very cute story," but you can tell her heart wasn't entirely in it.
Then there’s Clint Eastwood.
This was one of his first credited roles. He plays Lt. Jack Rice, a Rough Rider who spends most of the movie smiling—a lot—and being pursued by Channing's character. It is the least "Clint Eastwood" performance in history. No squinting. No gravelly voice. Just a pretty boy in a uniform.
Does it Rank as a Feminist Landmark?
Sorta. It tries.
The film definitely has a "girl power" vibe that was unusual for the mid-fifties. Rose is independent, she refuses to marry for money, and she eventually proves her point by showing that cattle are smart enough to avoid the wire.
But it’s also a product of its time. The "suffragette" themes are often played for laughs, and the resolution of the plot involves a gang of Texas townswomen "liberating" a warehouse of barbed wire to fence in the town.
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It’s silly. Really silly.
Technically, the film is beautiful to look at. Since RKO was closing, the production designers basically threw every remaining high-end prop and piece of overstuffed furniture onto the sets. It looks more expensive than it actually was.
Why You Should (or Shouldn’t) Watch It
If you’re a film historian or a die-hard Clint Eastwood fan, you basically have to see it just for the "what were they thinking?" factor.
But if you’re looking for a gripping Western? Look elsewhere.
The First Traveling Saleslady is a curiosity. It’s a snapshot of a Hollywood era that was ending and a group of stars who were either on their way out (Rogers) or just getting started (Eastwood, Arness).
How to Find it Today
Actually finding a copy is a bit of a chore. It’s not exactly a staple on streaming services like Netflix or Max. You can occasionally find it on TCM (Turner Classic Movies) or on "manufactured on demand" DVDs. Just make sure you check the region code if you’re buying a physical copy, as many of the available ones are PAL format for Europe.
Actionable Insights for Film Buffs
- Watch for the Clint Eastwood Kiss: If you want to see the most awkward onscreen kiss of the 1950s, skip to the scenes between Clint and Carol Channing. It's a rare glimpse of the "Man with No Name" before he found his persona.
- Check the Poster: Trivia hunters, look for the original theatrical posters. Some versions actually misspelled the title as "The First Travelling Saleslady" (with two Ls), which was the British spelling, even on U.S. promotional materials.
- Compare with "Traveling Saleslady" (1935): Don't confuse this movie with the 1935 Joan Blondell film of a similar name. That one is a snappy pre-code-style comedy about selling "cocktail flavored toothpaste" and is arguably a much better movie.
- Context Matters: View the film through the lens of RKO's collapse. Knowing the studio was literally dying while the cameras were rolling makes the "cheery" musical numbers feel incredibly surreal.