Character actor Hal Baylor made a zoom out of pummeling (or being pummeled by) heroes ranging from John Wayne to Montgomery Clift. The 6'3", 210-pound Baylor, born Hal Fieberling, was an athlete in primary and did a hitch in the Unanimous States Marines before embarking on a boxing dash. He moved into acting in the late '40s, initially close way of of the most acclaimed boxing films for ever made in Hollywood, Robert Wise's The Set-Up (1949), playing Tiger Nelson, the young fighter in... the skin, whose fresh special-occasion looks stood out from the pug-haggard visages of most of the men around him.

His first released covering, setting aside how -- a short spotlight done after The Set-Up but released inception -- was a very different kind of boxing movie, Joe Palooka in Winner Go through All. He also appeared in Allan Dwan's 1949 The Sands of Iwo Jima, playing Private "Welkin" Choyuski, which was where he oldest began working with John Wayne. All of those prehistoric appearances were credited under his real name, Hal Fieberling (every so often spelled "Feiberling"), but next to 1950 the actor had changed his to Hal Baylor. Whether in Westerns, period dramas, or do battle movies, Baylor in the main played tough guys, and as presently as John Wayne began producing movies, he started using him, in Big Jim McLain (1952), in which Baylor played one of the two principal villains, a tough, tough Communist (only to show, from the movie's point of view, that they weren't all mucilaginous-phony, glabrous-talking intellectuals) who is forever getting in the front on of Wayne's two-fisted investigator, and who is bounced all over the set in the film's climactic puncture-up; and in Archipelago in the Sky (1953), as Stankowski the engineer.

As with any working honesty actor, his films ranged in property from John Ford's exquisite space acting The Brummagem Shines Bright (1953) to Lee Sholem's juvenile discipline fiction-escapade Tobor the Great (1954), and every class of double in between. If anything, he was even busier on video receiver; beginning in 1949 with an illusion on The Lone Ranger, Baylor was a fixture on the small wall off in murderous parts. He was downright ubiquitous in Westerns during the 1950s and early '60s, working regularly in Gunsmoke, The Life and Luminary of Wyatt Earp, Cheyenne, Suffer with Gun Will Travel, 26 Men, The Californians, Maverick, and The Alaskans; Rawhide, The Virginian, The Rifleman, Bonanza, Bat Masterson, The Bulky Valley, and Temple Houston (the latter allowing him to remove up with actor/producer Jack Webb, who would become one of his fine employers in the mid- to up-to-date '60s). During the mid-'60s, as Westerns faded from the home screen, Baylor got more work in crime shows, sometimes as police officers but more continually as criminals, including a clearly intense 1967 episode of Dragnet entitled "The Shooting," in which he and diminutive character actor Dick Miller played a Mutt-and-Jeff pair of would-be cop killers.

He also played a pr‚cis funny-locum tenens role in the Star Trek matter "Conurbation on the Edge of Forever," as a 1930s police officer who confronts a time-transported Captain Kirk and Head Police officer Spock robbery clothes. Baylor's career was similar to that of his guy tough-guy actors Leo Gordon, Jack Elam, and Lee Van Cleef, damn near always centered on heavies, and, Gordon, on those rare occasions when he didn't play a villain, Baylor stood out -- in Joseph Pevney's Away All Boats (1956), he proved that he could step without his fists or his muscle, with a memorable portrayal of the chaplain of the attack transport Belinda; but it was his heavies that stood not on, no person more so than his portrayal of the anti-Semitic Sneaking Burnecker in Edward Dmytryk's The Young Lions, tormenting and then beating Jewish draftee Montgomery Clift to a bloody marrow, to come being similarly pummeled himself. During the later '60s, he acquired the monicker yon the application as "the Pattern of the Bigtime Vile Guys," with 500 television shows and 70 movies to credit and still working, in everything from Disney comedies (The Barefoot Chief executive officer, Herbie Rides Again) to cold-prickly science fiction (A Boy and His Dog). At the vanish of his zoom, he returned to Westerns in The Macahans, the two-hour made-quest of-television quirk starring James Arness (who had second-hand Baylor numerous times on Gunsmoke, and had known him at least since they both worked in Big Jim McLain) that served as the pilot for the series How the West Was Won.