Posted in

James Arness Revealed This One Co-Star He HATED Working With

We used to get a lot of mail from people, particularly women, saying, “Why don’t you get Matt and Kitty together more and all?” For two decades, the world believed Marshall Matt Dillon and Miss Kitty were the perfect pair. But behind those famous glances hid something far darker. Each time the cameras stopped rolling, James Arness quietly walked off set, never saying a word to Amanda Blake.

What fans thought was tender restraint was, in truth, cold contempt. The crew noticed, yet no one dared to speak. The rift between them ran so deep that CBS spent years burying the truth to protect the empire Gunsmoke had built. Let’s find out, and you won’t believe what happened. The beginning of a legendary feud.

When Amanda Blake joined Gunsmoke in 1955, she was 26, confident, and determined to make her mark in a genre ruled by men. James Arness, 32 and still limping from a war injury, had just been hand-picked by John Wayne to play Marshall Dillon. At first, their connection seemed effortless. She admired his quiet strength.

He respected her fire. They worked side by side for 12 hours a day, often rehearsing long after the crew wrapped. But the chemistry that made them America’s favorite pair soon turned into competition. Blake quickly became a fan magnet. Letters poured in praising her wit and independence. CBS executives began featuring her in promotional stills beside Arness, rather than behind him.

For a man raised on discipline and hierarchy, that shift felt like betrayal. Rumors of creative tension started by the third season. Blake had grown close to the show’s first director, Charles Marquis Warren, who often rewrote scenes to expand Kitty’s dialogue. Arness saw it as favoritism. Crew member William Lava once said in an interview, “You could see the change in Jim’s face whenever Amanda got a new line.

” It wasn’t jealousy, more like he’d lost control of his own world. The breaking point came during a publicity shoot in 1958. When photographers asked the two stars to pose closely, Arness pulled back at the last moment, muttering that “Kitty doesn’t need the Marshall that much.” Blake smiled through it, but later told a reporter, “It’s hard to act close when someone keeps building fences.

” From that day, every look they shared on screen carried the weight of something unspoken. “You don’t like me anymore, do you, Jim?” she reportedly asked one afternoon between takes. “I like you fine,” he answered without looking up, “as long as the camera’s rolling.” When love turns into loathing. By the mid-1960s, Gunsmoke had become a juggernaut.

Arness was television royalty, commanding a salary higher than most film stars. Blake, meanwhile, was the face of frontier feminism and admired by women across America. But success didn’t calm the storm. It intensified it. During the 1963 episode Kitty’s Injury, the script called for Dillon to carry Kitty through a burning barn.

The stunt required Arness to lift Blake repeatedly in heavy costume under intense studio lights. He’d been suffering knee pain from his old battlefield wound, but he refused to use a double. The first take went well, but when Blake asked for another, claiming her expression didn’t look right, Arness snapped. The next lift ended with Blake slipping and hitting the ground hard.

The scream in that scene, many say, was real. Filming shut down for two days. Officially, the accident was written off as fatigue, but sound engineer Ed Dunning recalled decades later, “I saw Jim walk away with that jaw set tight. He wasn’t sorry.” After the incident, production managers arranged the schedule so the two stars filmed separately whenever possible.

Their scenes together were blocked carefully, distance between them, fewer physical interactions, less eye contact. But the tension, ironically, made the show better. Fans called it unresolved passion. The crew called it barely controlled fury. By 1965, Arness had secured script approval. Whenever Blake suggested that Dillon and Kitty share a kiss, the idea was vetoed.

He insisted it would ruin the realism. But according to costume designer Leah Rhodes, the real reason was pride. “He couldn’t give her that moment,” she said. “He didn’t want her to win.” The bitterness reached a quiet but unmistakable level. The Christmas party that year was held without either of them attending.

Arness stayed home with family. Blake threw her own dinner for the crew. From then on, they lived in two separate versions of Gunsmoke. The final goodbye no one saw coming. By the 1970s, both stars were aging, and Gunsmoke was running on habit and legacy. Blake wanted her character to evolve. She pitched a storyline revealing that Miss Kitty had once been a madam who reinvented herself.

The idea was bold, ahead of its time, and would have given her depth beyond the saloon. But Arness killed the pitch immediately. In a closed meeting with producer John Mantley, he argued that the revelation would destroy the Marshall’s integrity. Mantley sided with him, and Blake was devastated.

Years later, she told a friend, “I wanted to tell women Kitty was flawed, that she fought her way up. But Jim wanted her spotless, as long as he could keep her under his thumb.” The tension turned toxic. On set, they rarely spoke unless cameras rolled. Stagehands remembered that if one walked in from stage left, the other would exit right.

Their professionalism kept the show alive, but their connection was gone. A final confrontation came in late 1973 during rehearsals for an episode called The Badge. The tension that had simmered for years finally cracked. Blake stood before him, her patience gone. “You’ve made her invisible, Jim,” she said. Arness looked at her, calm but cold.

To him, Kitty had stopped being a character and started threatening the myth of the Marshall himself. “You made her too human,” he replied with his voice low. In that moment, the divide between them was complete. It was a war over who got to define the soul of Gunsmoke. She walked out of rehearsal and returned only for filming.

When the episode aired, fans praised the intensity of their final scene together, Kitty saying goodbye to Dodge City. Viewers thought it was acting. The crew knew it was farewell. After the season wrapped, Blake resigned. The network begged her to reconsider. Arness stayed silent. In one of his few interviews from that year, he said, “Actors come and go.

” The West stays the line became infamous among fans who sensed its true meaning. The reunion that changed nothing. When Gunsmoke ended in 1975, Arness retreated from Hollywood. He rarely gave interviews, spent time sailing along the California coast, and refused to talk about Blake. But whispers persisted that his silence hid guilt, not anger.

A decade later, CBS revived the show for a reunion film, Gunsmoke: Return to Dodge. When producers called Arness, he agreed immediately. When they called Blake, she hesitated until she learned Arness had said yes. She accepted with one condition. “We film our reunion first.” The day of that shoot, the air was heavy with memory.

The scene showed Matt finding Kitty after years apart. Between takes, she tried to break the ice. “Do you ever miss Dodge?” she asked. “Only when it rains,” he replied, eyes fixed on the horizon. For a moment, there was warmth again, something close to forgiveness. But when the camera rolled, the emotion turned real.

Arness’s hands trembled slightly as he touched her arm. Blake’s eyes filled, and she whispered her line with a catch in her voice. “You never came back for me.” Arness didn’t answer. The silence was too honest to script. When filming ended, they didn’t speak again. Two years later, in 1989, Blake died from complications related to AIDS.

Arness didn’t attend the memorial, sending only a note. “She was part of my life’s best work.” To some, it sounded cold. To others, it was the closest he could come to confession. In his later years, Arness admitted to a friend, “We could have been close, but we were too much alike, stubborn, guarded, afraid to lose control.

” That private remark reframed the entire story. The hatred wasn’t pure malice. It was pride poisoned by unspoken affection. In the end, the feud between James Arness and Amanda Blake was both the curse and the secret weapon of Gunsmoke. Their off-screen hostility gave their on-screen chemistry a fire that could never be faked.

What fans read as longing was really frustration. What felt like restraint was pride. Yet that same pride created something unforgettable. Two people at odds built one of television’s most enduring relationships, not through harmony, but through conflict. And when Arness finally reflected on those years, shortly before his death in 2011, he told biographer James Houwerton, “We made people believe in that world.

Maybe because we were both trying to survive it.” So maybe the question isn’t why he hated her. Maybe the question is whether he ever stopped. What do you think? Did James Arness and Amanda Blake’s secret war make Gunsmoke greater? Or did it destroy the bond that could have changed television forever? Share your thoughts below and subscribe for more untold Hollywood truths.