Television wasn't always a place for prestige. Before 1976, if you wanted a sweeping, multi-generational epic, you went to the cinema or you picked up a thick paperback. Then ABC took a massive gamble on Irwin Shaw’s sprawling novel. They cast a group of actors who, at the time, weren't exactly household names in every living room across America. It worked. Honestly, it did more than just work; it basically invented the "miniseries" format that paved the way for everything from Shogun to modern Netflix binges.
When people talk about the cast of Rich Man Poor Man TV series, they usually start and end with Nick Nolte. It’s understandable. He was electric. But looking back fifty years later, the sheer depth of that ensemble is staggering. You had seasoned veterans like Ed Asner playing a bitter, abusive patriarch and Dorothy McGuire as the long-suffering mother, alongside young lions who were about to become the biggest stars in the world.
The story followed the Jordache brothers. Rudy was the "rich man," the ambitious one who played by the rules to climb the political and social ladder. Tom was the "poor man," the rebel, the boxer, the guy who couldn't catch a break if it was handed to him on a silver platter. It was a simple hook, but the execution was gritty. It didn't feel like the polished, safe sitcoms of the era. It felt like real, messy life.
The Breakout Brilliance of Nick Nolte and Peter Strauss
The chemistry—or rather, the friction—between Peter Strauss and Nick Nolte was the engine of the show. Strauss played Rudy Jordache with this controlled, almost stiff intensity. He was the "golden boy," but Strauss played him with enough internal conflict that you didn't just hate him for his success. He carried the burden of the family’s expectations. Peter Strauss became the king of the miniseries after this, later starring in Masada and Kane & Abel. He had that classic, leading-man gravity that the 70s absolutely loved.
Then there was Nick Nolte.
If you want to see the exact moment a star is born, watch Nolte as Tom Jordache. He was raw. He was dangerous. He had this gravelly voice and a physical presence that made you feel like he might actually punch the camera. Before this, Nolte was doing bit parts and modeling. After this? He was a heavyweight. He famously got the role after a grueling audition process where he convinced producers he could handle the character's descent from a teenage delinquent to a hardened man of the world. It’s a performance that still holds up because it isn't "theatrical." It’s visceral.
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The dynamic between them wasn't just about sibling rivalry. It represented the two halves of the American Dream. One brother tried to buy his way into it; the other was chewed up and spat out by it.
Susan Blakely: More Than Just a Love Interest
We have to talk about Susan Blakely. In many ways, her character, Julie Prescott, had the hardest job in the script. She had to be the bridge between the two brothers, the woman they both loved in different ways, and a character who faced her own downward spiral into alcoholism and disillusionment.
Blakely was phenomenal. She won a Golden Globe for the role, and it's easy to see why. She didn't play Julie as a victim. Even when the character was at her lowest, Blakely gave her a spark of defiance. In an era where female characters were often relegated to being "the wife" or "the girlfriend," Julie Prescott felt like a fully realized person with her own agency and her own tragedies.
The Villains and the Veterans: Falconetti and Axel Jordache
You can't discuss the cast of Rich Man Poor Man TV series without mentioning the man everyone loved to hate: William Smith. He played Anthony Falconetti.
Falconetti wasn't just a "bad guy." He was a nightmare. William Smith, a real-life powerhouse who was a champion bodybuilder and a polyglot who spoke multiple languages, brought a terrifying physicality to the role. The feud between Tom Jordache and Falconetti is the stuff of TV legend. It culminated in one of the most brutal endings in television history. Seriously, the tension Smith brought to the screen was so high that people used to stop him in the street just to tell him how much they despised him. That’s the mark of a great actor.
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And then there’s Ed Asner.
Most people know him as the lovable Lou Grant from The Mary Tyler Moore Show. In Rich Man, Poor Man, he was the exact opposite. As Axel Jordache, the German-immigrant father, he was cold, violent, and deeply unhappy. It was a transformative performance. Asner proved he wasn't just a comedic foil; he was an actor of immense range. He won an Emmy for it, and frankly, he deserved it. He set the tone for the entire series in the first few episodes, establishing the trauma that would drive Rudy and Tom for the rest of their lives.
Why the Ensemble Worked Where Others Failed
The show was packed with cameos and supporting roles that would make a modern casting director weep with envy.
- Ray Milland as Duncan Calderwood, the wealthy power broker.
- Robert Reed (yes, Mike Brady himself) playing against type in a much more serious role.
- Bill Bixby as Willie Abbott.
- Talia Shire appeared as Teresa Santoro.
- Fionnula Flanagan was haunting as Clothilde.
The reason this massive cast worked was that the producers didn't treat the "small" roles as small. Every character felt like they had a life before the camera started rolling and a life after the scene ended. This wasn't "guest star of the week" fluff. It was an ensemble where every gear turned the next one.
The Legacy of the 1976 Phenomenon
When the finale aired, it was estimated that nearly 50 million people were watching. That’s a number modern showrunners can only dream of. It changed the business model of television. Network executives realized that if you gave people high-quality, serialized drama with film-caliber acting, they wouldn't just watch—they would become obsessed.
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It also sparked a sequel, Rich Man, Poor Man Book II, though it never quite captured the magic of the original. Without the source material of Irwin Shaw to guide it, the sequel drifted more into soap opera territory. But the original twelve-hour limited series? That remains a masterclass in casting.
Lessons from the Jordache Saga
If you’re a fan of modern television, you owe it to yourself to go back and watch what these actors did. They weren't working with the massive budgets or CGI we have now. They had scripts, lighting, and their own talent.
How to Appreciate the Series Today
- Watch the nuance in Peter Strauss's performance. It’s easy to overlook him because Nolte is so "loud" and charismatic, but watch how Strauss shows Rudy’s soul slowly hardening. It's subtle work.
- Look for the technical limitations. Notice how they used close-ups to convey emotion because they couldn't rely on big action set pieces. It forced the actors to use their eyes.
- Research the historical context. The show covers the post-WWII era through the 1960s. The cast had to age decades over the course of the series, which was a huge challenge for the makeup departments of the time.
Honestly, the cast of Rich Man Poor Man TV series didn't just play characters; they defined a generation of American storytelling. They took a "trashy" medium and made it art. Whether it's the menacing presence of Falconetti or the tragic beauty of Julie Prescott, the performances remain a benchmark for what's possible when the right actors meet the right material at exactly the right time.
If you want to understand where the "Golden Age of TV" actually started, stop looking at the 2000s. Go back to 1976. Look at the faces of the Jordache family. That’s where the blueprint was written.
To dive deeper into the world of 70s television, start by tracking down the original 1976 DVD sets or checking streaming archives like Tubi or Amazon, which occasionally rotate these classic miniseries. Pay close attention to the pilot episode—specifically the scenes between Ed Asner and Nick Nolte—to see how a family's history is established through silence and tension rather than just dialogue.