Vitals

Robert Duvall as George Hansen, mercenary-for-hire

San Francisco, Spring 1975

Film: The Killer Elite
Release Date: December 19, 1975
Director: Sam Peckinpah
Costume Designer: Ray Summers

WARNING! Spoilers ahead!

Background

My post about the late James Caan’s style in The Killer Elite for the film’s 50th anniversary last month received more attention than I expected, as well as requests to cover his co-star Robert Duvall. So, ahead of Duvall’s 95th birthday tomorrow, let’s look at how he dresses as the double-crossing mercenary George Hansen across The Killer Elite‘s second act.

After betraying his partner Mike Locken (Caan) and leaving him with a crippling bullet to the knee, George has been profiting as a freelance mercenary most recently hired to assassinate a Taiwanese politician visiting the United States. Mike had been out of commission for weeks while recovering from his wound, but his old employer ComTeg finally welcomes him back into the fold—hoping he can foil his former partner’s plot.

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What’d He Wear?

The first act established George’s sartorial template for heavy woolen shirt-jackets, open-neck shirts, and day cravats. His wardrobe remains consistent even as his employment status changes, facing off against Mike’s rebuilt ComTeg team in a naval-style watch cap, snap-front shacket, day cravat, selvedge denim, and that mustache—all of which would make him the envy of every mid-2000s barista from Williamsburg to Portland.

George’s black ribbed-knit wool cap is narrowly cuffed around the bottom, where he pulls it down to just over his eyebrows. This simple, classic style is known alternately as a “beanie” in the United States, a “toque” to Canucks, and a “watch cap” in a maritime context.

George wears a brushed wool jacket dyed a deep shade of indigo-blue, following his hat’s naval queues by blending classic “CPO shirt” styling into a ’70s sportswear philosophy with its large-pointed collar, five-snap front, single-snap pointed cuff tabs, and a pair of patch pockets over the chest covered with single-snap scalloped pockets—supplemented by slanted welt hand pockets that firmly establish this as outerwear. Lined in an “emergency orange” nylon, the jacket’s snap-buttons are all matte gunmetal.

Searching for vintage contemporaries, the closest I’ve found was a similarly styled “Golden Fleece” wool jacket from the New York-based I. Spiewak & Sons, which currently specializes in duty outerwear. Outfitters continue to produce similar analogues today, such as the Gustin #10 Navy Wool CPO and even inexpensive cotton alternatives on Amazon.

George sartorially communicates his sense of professionalism with a two-pocket work-shirt crafted from a dressier business shirting, specifically a white-and-slate striped cotton. The shirt has a point collar, front placket, button cuffs, and two chest pockets that each close with a single-button scalloped flap—echoing his jacket. As with his earlier plaid shirt-jacket, George dresses up the shirt’s open neck with a silk day cravat, this one patterned with a dark-blue and white all-over print.

He tucks the shirt into his indigo-dyed denim jeans, a fashion-leaning style consistent with George’s somewhat dandified approach to workwear. Close through the hips with a flared boot-cut below the knees, these jeans are distinguished by the sharp vertical crease running straight down from the waistband, suggesting either an intentional pressing or a stiffer poly-blend denim designed to hold a line. George holds these up with a dark-brown leather belt that closes through a curved, silver-toned single-prong buckle, coordinated with the belt leather of his scuffed ankle boots.

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The Guns

More than a decade after MI6’s quartermaster equipped James Bond with the ArmaLite AR-7 Explorer semi-automatic rifle in From Russia With Love (1963), George Hansen aims his own AR-7 during an assassination attempt on the Taiwanese politician guarded by his former partner.

ArmaLite adapted their earlier design of the AR-5—developed as a survival gun for USAF air crews—to craft the AR-7, which debuted in 1959 for civilian campers and hunters seeking an easily portable weapon for emergencies. The AR-7 maintained many of its predecessor’s characteristics, from its takedown capabilities to its ability to float in water when fully disassembled with the receiver, barrel, and magazine stored in its foam-filled buttstock.

While the AR-5 fired the energetic .22 Hornet round—capable against medium game with the right ammunition, range, and skill—the civilian-oriented AR-7 fired the slower but more ubiquitous .22 LR rimfire round (not “point two-five caliber,” as Q once misspoke to 007). Ballistically modest, the .22 LR trades raw power for low recoil, minimal report, and wide availability—qualities that would be questionable for a real-world assassination attempt but potentially attractive to a covert operator prioritizing portability and discretion; a rifle that could be broken down and concealed inside a compact stock would have appealed to someone operating quietly and alone.

George may also have appreciated the logistical simplicity of carrying a single caliber, as he pairs the AR-7 with a .22-caliber Colt Woodsman Sport semi-automatic pistol—the same handgun he had used with a suppressor to wound Mike during the dissolution of their partnership months earlier.

The Woodsman serves a similar philosophical role to the AR-7. Both are lightweight, accurate .22-caliber firearms conceived with wilderness use in mind rather than martial dominance, a pairing that subtly reinforces George’s character as a professional who values efficiency and familiarity over brute force. Even the pistol’s name—”Woodsman”, first applied in 1927—evokes the self-reliance and quiet competence championed by the likes of Ernest Hemingway in his 1938 article “My Pal the Gorilla Gargantua” for Ken:

The rifle and the pistol are still the equalizer when one man is more of a man than another, and if… he is really smart… he will get a permit to carry one and then drop around to Abercrombie and Fitch and buy himself a .22-caliber Colt automatic pistol, Woodsman model, with a five-inch barrel and a box of shells… Now standing in one corner of a boxing ring with a .22 caliber Colt automatic pistol, shooting a bullet weighing only 40 grains and with a striking energy of 51 foot pounds at 25 feet from the muzzle, I will guarantee to kill either Gene Tunney or Joe Louis before they get to me from the opposite corner. This is the smallest caliber pistol cartridge made; but it is also one of the most accurate and easy to hit with, since the pistol has no recoil. I have killed many horses with it, cripples and bear baits, with a single shot, and what will kill a horse will kill a man… Yet this same pistol bullet fired at point-blank range will not dent a grizzly’s skull, and to shoot a grizzly with a .22 caliber pistol would simply be one way of committing suicide.

Introduced in 1915, the Woodsman is a straight-blowback, single-action semi-automatic pistol chambered in .22 LR and typically fed from a ten-round detachable box magazine. Its slim profile, long sight radius, and excellent balance made it a favorite among outdoorsmen and competitive shooters alike, while its fixed-barrel design contributed to a reputation for accuracy that far exceeded what its modest cartridge might suggest. Like many Colt handguns of the early 20th century, the Woodsman was designed by John M. Browning, and its clean ergonomics and crisp trigger reflect his emphasis on practical shootability.

The design underwent three major evolutions after the Woodsman was introduced as the Target Model with a six-inch barrel in 1915, followed by the 4.5-inch Sport and heavier-barreled Match Target variants in the 1930s. Commercial production temporarily halted in 1941 as Colt redirected its resources toward World War II. By 1948, the Woodsman returned as the so-called “Second Series”, now incorporating a slide stop, a magazine safety, and a revised magazine release located at the rear of the trigger guard. In 1955, the design evolved again into the “Third Series”, which relocated the magazine release to the heel of the grip—an ergonomically conservative choice that emphasized retention over speed and marked the final major chapter in the Woodsman’s long production run.

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How to Get the Look

Treat this like a modern continuation of the 1975 mindset rather than vintage cosplay, building a working man’s uniform around sharp, simple pieces: a sturdy over-shirt or CPO-style jacket, a clean open-neck work-shirt, and dark jeans with a deliberate crease. Wear the beanie if it’s cold, wear the day cravat if you know you can pull it off, and keep any other flair minimal and unselfconscious, worn with ease rather than irony.

• Dark-blue brushed wool shirt with large collar, five-snap front, two chest pockets with single-snap scalloped flaps, slanted hand pockets, and single-snap pointed-end cuffs
• White-and-slate striped cotton shirt with point collar, front placket, two chest pockets with single-button scalloped flaps, and button cuffs
• Navy-and-white printed silk day cravat
• Indigo-blue poly-blend denim jeans with belt loops, curved front pockets, and flared boot-cut bottoms
• Dark-brown leather belt with curved silver-toned single-prong buckle
• Brown leather ankle boots
• Black ribbed-knit wool watch cap

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Do Yourself a Favor and…

Check out the movie.

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The Quote

Proper planning prevents piss-poor performance.