Set in the old west, Sam Whiskey stars Reynolds as the title character, a gambler and womanizer who’s had some scrapes with the law. He is approached by wealthy widow Laura Breckenridge (Angie Dickenson), daughter of a prestigious Midwest businessman, who wants Sam to help her out of a sticky situation.
It seems Laura’s late husband, a crooked politician, stole $250,000 worth of gold bars from the U.S. Mint in Denver, a theft that won’t be discovered until the government’s next inspection. To save her family name, Laura wants Sam to retrieve the gold from a sunken steamboat in the Platte river, then break into the Mint and replace the phony bars her husband left behind with the real deal, all before the authorities realize what’s happened.
Confused by this strange request but intrigued by her promise of a hefty reward, Sam agrees to help the lovely Miss Breckenridge, and recruits blacksmith Jed Hooker (Ossie Davis) as well as old pal O.W. Bandy (Clint Walker) to help pull off this crazy caper.
What the trio doesn’t know is that they are being followed by Fat Henry Hobson (Rick Davis), an accomplice of Breckenridge’s husband who wants the gold for himself.
For Sam Whiskey, director Arnold Laven assembled a solid supporting cast. Ossie Davis’s Jed Hooker is the film’s straight man, a quiet observer of the chaos who, when the chips are down, can be relied on to get the job done. Though primarily known for action / adventure westerns like More Dead Than Alive and Yuma, Clint Walker here proves himself a gifted comedian, getting a few laughs as the strong but subtle O.W. And while Angie Dickenson isn’t given much to do short of providing story exposition and hopping into bed with Sam, the chemistry between she and Reynolds makes their scenes together enjoyable.
That said, it’s the guy these talented actors are “supporting” who steals the movie. With Sam Whiskey, we see the beginnings of what would become the trademark Reynolds character, the wise-cracking but amiable rogue whose carefree attitude masks an inner decency which, more often than not, would make its way to the surface before the end credits. From early on, when he tries to steal a bath from Jed, to the final act set inside the Mint (a sequence that also features a handful of suspenseful moments), Reynolds combines the physicality and charm that would, in the coming years, see him canonized as his generation’s Cary Grant.
To watch Reynolds doing comedy nearly a decade before his Hal Needham era proved a treat, and Sam Whiskey is a movie that any fan of Burt’s must check out.
Rating: 8 out of 10
No, check that; you go into this 1980 movie hoping for more of the same. Smokey and the Bandit was a box office smash because it was a fun little movie, with Burt Reynolds playing what would prove to be his most iconic character. The fact that Needham and company were able to reassemble the cast from the original, and throw in Dom DeLuise as well, gave me hope that this entry would be as entertaining as the first.
And it is… in spurts. Occasionally very, very short spurts.
Some time has passed since the events of Smokey and the Bandit. Frog (Sally Field) has left the Bandit (Reynolds), who, to get over his heartbreak, is drinking large quantities of beer. When Big Enos (Pat McCormick) and Little Enos (Paul Williams) offer a boatload of money for the Bandit to make another run, his longtime friend and traveling partner The Snowman (Jerry Reed) sobers Bandit up, and even convinces Frog to tag along on yet another adventure.
Of course, for Frog to do so, she will once again have to leave Junior (Mike Henry), son of Sheriff Buford T. Justice (Jackie Gleason), standing at the altar (she agreed to finally marry him). Sheriff Justice, who is as ornery as ever, hasn’t forgotten how the Bandit humiliated him, and vows to finally apprehend his arch nemesis.
But Bandit, Frog and Snowman will have more on their plate than a Smokey in “hot pursuit”; it turns out the cargo they’ve been hired to drive from Miami to Texas is a 4-ton Elephant named Charlotte! And what’s more, she’s pregnant!
With an Italian gynecologist (DeLuise) looking after the elephant, they load her into Snowman’s truck and head for Texas. But will they make it before Charlotte gives birth?
Getting the original cast back together is one of Smokey and The Bandit II’s strongest points. Reynolds gets to do more than just drive and crack jokes this time out. He plays drunk in the opening scenes (quite well, actually), and even stretches his character a bit, hoping to complete this run not for the money, but to re-establish his standing as a folk hero. In fact, the very reason Frog left him in the first place was that his ego was out of control. Jerry Reed is also solid as Snowman, and occasionally acts as Bandit’s conscience, trying to convince him not to push so hard.
As for Sally Field’s reappearance as Frog, it raises a number of questions. Like, why did she go back to Junior? And if her break-up with Bandit was as hard on her as she says, why did she quickly agree to ride along with him again? Yes, there’s the money… Snowman offered her a piece of the take. But still…. (that said, it’s good to have her back all the same).
Stealing the show, however, is Jackie Gleason, who not only gets more screen time in the sequel, but plays two additional characters as well: Sheriff Justice’s brothers, Reggie and Gaylord, both of whom are also officers of the law. Buford’s steady stream of insults, mostly hurled at his son Junior, are a laugh riot. Also turning up in cameos are real-life NFL legends Terry Bradshaw, Mean Joe Greene, and Joe Klecko (playing themselves) and some country music stars as well, including the Statler Brothers and Don Williams, all of whom perform during the film. Speaking of music, Jerry Reed’s opening tune this time around, "Texas Bound and Flying", is not as good as the first film’s "Eastbound and Down", but it’s kinda catchy all the same.
Throw in a finale involving dozens of cars and about as many trucks, all smashing into each other in the middle of a desert, and you have a movie that certainly has its moments.
There just aren’t enough of them, unfortunately. Dom DeLuise gets a few laughs as the doctor with the stereotypical accent, but he never cuts loose like we know he can, and his character doesn’t develop beyond said stereotype. In addition, the party atmosphere that worked so well in Smokey and the Bandit (and, later, The Cannonball Run), where it felt as if we the audience were personally invited to what looked like a very good time had by cast and crew, falls flat in this movie, resulting in a number of scenes that either come up short or are far too silly. The recurring storyline of Charlotte the elephant having a crush on the Bandit is more groan-inducing than funny.
In the final round-up, I can’t decide if Smokey and the Bandit II was a fun movie with some major weaknesses, or a failure that occasionally hits the mark. By default, that makes it a middle of the road entry in Needham’s filmography, not as good as the first Smokey and the Bandit or Hooper, but not nearly as bad as Cannonball Run II or Stroker Ace. I can’t quite bring myself to recommend it wholeheartedly, but I wouldn’t tell you to avoid Smokey and the Bandit II either.
Rating: 5.5 out of 10
Bitter that he wasn’t invited and convinced she was having an affair with Reynolds, Whiting instigated an argument with Miles, and, according to reports, struck her several times. Injured, Miles rushed off to Reynolds’ room, who, seeing the condition she was in, allegedly went to have a “chat” with David Whiting.
The next morning, Whiting’s lifeless body was found lying in a pool of blood. The official cause of death would be listed as a drug overdose, with the consensus being that Whiting fell into a table before dying (thus all the blood). But some investigators on the scene felt that didn’t add up, and the pill bottles strewn across the room may have been planted there after the fact. According to one law enforcement official who was part of the initial investigation, "It appears, from the crime scene, Reynolds arrived at the room and had a brief scuffle with Mr. Whiting, a scuffle that turned deadly. All the signs point to Reynolds being involved."
MGM, the studio financing the film, fought to keep both Miles and Reynolds from testifying at the inquest, claiming it would cost them a small fortune if production was delayed any further. Did MGM initiate a cover-up to protect their star? Was Burt Reynolds responsible for the death of David Whiting? Seeing as nearly 50 years have passed - as has Burt Reynolds - we may never know the truth.
But as tragic as this event was, it’s equally sad that it has tarnished what is an otherwise superb motion picture, a well-paced, beautifully shot western / romance that features strong performances by Reynolds, Miles, and, indeed, the entire supporting cast.
As the movie opens, Jay Grobart (Reynolds), a former army captain, is about to rob a train carrying $100,000 in cash. With the help of his gang: Dawes (Jack Warden), Billy Bowen (Bo Hopkins), and a native American named Charlie Bent (Jay Varela), the hold-up is a success. But there’s one small hitch: socialite Catherine Crocker (Miles), who was running away from her wealthy, domineering husband Willard (George Hamilton), witnessed the entire robbery.
Not willing to take chances, Grobart and the others kidnap Catherine and bring her along as they attempt to outrun railroad detective Harvey Lapchance (Lee J. Cobb) and his posse, who are hot on their trail. Joined by Willard Crocker, who is anxious to retrieve his wife, Lapchance and his team tirelessly pursue the thieves, knowing full well where Grobart is heading, and what he intends to do with his share of the money.
To further complicate matters, Catherine finds herself falling in love with Grobart. She is hoping beyond hope that he will somehow evade capture, and the two of them will live happily ever after.
Despite its story of a gang of train robbers on the run, The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing has an almost lyrical quality to it, a somber, even poetic feel that director Richard C. Sarafian maintains through much of the movie. Even when events threaten to turn violent, like when Billy tries to rape Catherine, or Grobart and Dawes face off against one another, the film maintains its solemn tone.
Part of the reason this approach works is the character of Jay Grobart, played so well by Burt Reynolds. Despite being a thief, Grobart has a set of principles he lives by, and when his cohorts get out of line, he is there to “correct” them; he does what he can to keep Catherine safe during their getaway. Matching Reynolds every step of the way is Sarah Miles, whose Catherine is also on the run. Their chemistry is tangible, and the eventual romance that develops between the two seems a foregone conclusion.
Warden is also good as the loathesome Dawes, while Bo Hopkins manages to both piss us off and garner our sympathy as the story unfolds. Toss in the amazing cinematography of Harry Stradling Jr., who makes the most of the film’s picturesque locales (it was shot on-location in Utah and Arizona), and you have a movie that is every bit as beautiful as it is engaging.
Alas, with all the controversy surrounding it, The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing has never garnered the praise or attention it deserves. Even Reynolds himself was reluctant to discuss the movie. “There’s nothing to talk about in Cat Dancing except that it brings me pain”, he would tell critic Gene Siskel during a 1976 interview, adding “So I’d rather not talk about it”.
And that’s a damn shame.
Rating: 9 out of 10
It’s business as usual in Boston’s 87th precinct. Plain-clothes detective Steve Carella (Reynolds) goes undercover to catch the punk (or punks) setting the city’s homeless on fire. Det. Eileen McHenry (Raquel Welch), the newest member of the crew, is on assignment to track down a rapist. And both Meyer Meyer (Jack Weston) and Bert Kling (Tom Skerritt) field calls from a potential assassin, who threatens to kill a city councilman if $5,000 isn’t turned over to him immediately. Tempting fate by making a fake drop and staking out the area, the entire 87th finds themselves in hot water when the councilman is, indeed, shot dead on the streets.
Known only as the “Deaf Man” (Yul Brynner) because he wears a hearing aid, this killer continues to call, demanding more money and threatening higher officials every time. With the entire city on alert, the detectives of the 87th put in extra time to crack the case, but will need more than a little luck if they’re to bring this killer to justice.
Based loosely on the 87th Precinct novels written by Evan Hunter (under the pseudonym Ed McBain), Fuzz is, at times, a very funny movie. As established in its opening scene, the 87th is being painted by two guys from the Department of Public Works (Gino Conforti and Gerald Hiken), who are dropping green paint everywhere, and on everyone. Even funnier is the second stake-out to catch the assassin, where Burt Reynolds and Jack Weston go undercover as a couple of nuns while Welch and Skerritt, posing as lovers in a sleeping bag, almost let a potential suspect slip away when they can’t unzip the damn thing!
What makes the comedy in Fuzz so effective is that it’s always played straight. Director Colla shoots the film as if it was a standard police procedural, using overlapping dialogue and hand-held cameras to give it a realistic vibe. The scenes set inside the precinct especially benefit from this approach, and look as if they might have been lifted from The French Connection or TV’s Hill Street Blues.
While the scenes involving the detectives have a humorous bent, those featuring Brynner’s assassin and his cohorts (Peter Bonerz and Cal Bellini) are deadly serious. In one of the film’s strongest sequences, we tag along with the trio as they plant a bomb in the mayor’s mansion.
In any other movie, these shifts from comedy to drama and back again may have seemed jarring, but in Fuzz they work because the cast and crew approach the story so seriously. And while the grand finale is definitely contrived (in more ways than one), it somehow works, bringing the movie to a satisfying (if hard to swallow) conclusion.
Rating: 8 out of 10
Needham, who was Reynolds’ stunt double in such early ‘70s movies as White Lightning and Gator, went on to direct some very popular action-comedies, most starring his good buddy Burt. So it’s only fitting that their second collaboration as actor and director, after the 1977 Box-Office smash Smokey and the Bandit, would be Hooper, a movie in which Burt plays… a Hollywood stuntman!
Sonny Hooper (Reynolds) is believed by many to be the best stuntman in all of Tinseltown. His reputation as the greatest is threatened, however, with the arrival of young hotshot Delmore Shidski (Jan-Michael Vincent), who Sonny nicknames “Ski”.
Ski, it seems, is willing to take risks, performing stunts that have never been attempted before. As for Sonny, both his girlfriend Gwen (Sally Field) and his best buddy Cully (James Best) are pushing him to retire. But when Ski suggests that he and Sonny attempt a long-distance car jump for their new movie, one that will shatter all previous records, Sonny jumps at the opportunity, despite the fact that one more injury might put him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life!
Like Smokey and the Bandit before it, Hooper is fun with a capital “F”, an action / comedy that doesn’t skimp on either. Reynolds is as charismatic and lovable as ever playing the cocky Hooper, a guy who knows his best days are behind him but wants to show his new young colleague why he’s still top dog. Many of the stunts Hooper performs throughout the movie are, indeed, exciting. In an early scene, he has to zip line over a city street while holding a dog!
In addition to Reynolds, Hooper boasts a talented supporting cast. Jan-Michael Vincent, Sally Field, and James Best are superb, as are Robert Klein (as egotistical director Roger Deal), Brian Keith (Jocko, a former stuntman and Gwen’s father), John Marley (producer Max Burns), Alfie Wise (as Roger Deal’s diminutive assistant), and Adam West (as himself, the star of the movie in production). Also turning up in a cameo is football great Terry Bradshaw as an off-duty cop who mixes it up with Sonny during a barroom brawl.
As for the final stunt, the car jump across a collapsed bridge, it is phenomenal, not to mention nerve-racking. Sonny was told by his doctors that his back won’t survive another concussion, brining an added tension to the entire sequence.
Needham and Reynolds would go on to make several more movies together, including Smokey and the Bandit II, The Cannonball Run (a personal favorite of mine) and Stroker Ace (which is abysmal), but their first two collaborations as actor and director - Smokey and the Bandit and Hooper - remain their best.
Rating: 8.5 out of 10
Directed By: Sergio Corbucci
Starring: Burt Reynolds, Aldo Sambrell, Nicoletta Machiavelli
Tag line: "Navajo revenge slashes ...burns ...ravages the screen!"
Trivia: Burt Reynolds only agreed to make this film because he was under the impression that Sergio Leone would be directing. When he found out it was Sergio Corbucci he tried to pull out
I first watched Navajo Joe decades ago, and thought it was a decent, if underwhelming western. Seeing it again today, I was blown away by its action scenes, and absolutely loved Ennio Morricone’s score (I even downloaded the title song). It’s a thrilling, dramatic Italian western from director Sergio Corbucci, and I’m damn glad I gave it another chance!
A band of outlaws, led by the ruthless half-breed Duncan (Aldo Sambrell), roams the west, slaughtering every Native American tribe they encounter, then selling their scalps to the highest bidder. But Duncan and his cohorts, which includes his half-brother Jeffrey (Lucio Rosato), have a chance to make some real money when Dr. Chester Lynne (Pierre Cressoy) proposes a scheme.
Married to Hannah (Valeria Sabel), the daughter of the banker in the town of Esperenza, Dr. Lynne tells Duncan that a train carrying $500,000 is arriving the next day, and if the outlaw and his gang can steal the safe, the good doctor (who knows the combination) will open it and split the loot with them.
Only one thing stands in their way: a pesky Navajo named Joe (Burt Reynolds), who has been tracking Duncan for hundreds of miles, picking off his men at a regular clip. When he hears of the scheme, Joe offers his services to the citizens of Esperenza, promising to keep the money safe and, if necessary, kill every single bandit that enters their town. But seeing as Duncan has about 50 men at his disposal, eliminating them all may be more than even a skilled Navajo can handle.
From its opening moments, when Duncan and his gang massacre an entire Native American village (including women and children), to its final shoot-out, Navajo Joe is an action-packed western that moves along at a brisk pace. The movie is chock full of highlights. There’s a frantic chase in which Duncan’s men are hot on the trail of a covered wagon carrying three dancing girls (Lucia Modungo, Tanya Lopert and Franca Polesello), one of whom saw Dr. Lynne’s face (and can therefore identify him to the authorities). Even more exciting is the train robbery itself, where the bandits battle a detachment of cavalry troops and a handful of passengers, all of whom are armed and ready to fight.
As for the performances, Burt Reynolds is fine as the usually-quiet title character, and the stunning Nicoletta Machiavelli has a brief but memorable role as a servant who develops a crush on Joe (thankfully, the film doesn’t spend any time building an actual romance between the two). The best of the lot, though, is Aldo Sambrell as Duncan, a half-breed who, because he was mistreated at an early age, hates whites and Native Americans and takes his anger out on both every chance he gets. While robbing the train he shoots a Swedish immigrant, played by Dyanik Zurakowska, in the back, then tells his men to dispose of her baby. As movie villains go, Duncan is downright unforgettable.
Corbucci directed Navajo Joe the same year he made Django, another great western, and like that movie, Navajo Joe is an often-violent, occasionally gorgeous motion picture (shot in Spain, cinematographer Silvano Ippoliti perfectly captures the area’s natural beauty), and why I didn’t notice how good it was when I first saw it is a mystery.
But, hey, better late than never.
Directed By: Hal Needham
Starring: Burt Reynolds, Roger Moore, Farrah Fawcett
Tag line: "You'll root for them all...but you'll never guess who wins"
Trivia: Burt Reynolds received a then-record $5 million salary for his work on this film (his part took three weeks to finish)
Hal Needham’s The Cannonball Run isn’t so much a movie as it is a cinematic party. As you’re watching this 1981 film, you get the distinct feeling that everyone had a great time making it, a hunch that’s verified once the final credits roll (when we’re treated to the outtakes, which feature plenty of laughter and goofing around).
Taking this high level of frivolity into account, I’m betting a good many people will find The Cannonball Run a tedious experience, but as someone who watched it dozens of times on cable TV in the '80s, I am an admitted fan.
Yes, The Cannonball Run feels like a private party for its cast, but at least the audience also got an invitation.
The story is as thin as they come: The Cannonball, an annual cross-country car race from Connecticut to California, is set to begin, and contestants are lining up to participate.
Of course, if they’re to have any chance of winning, the racers will have to drive well over the speed limit, forcing them to find “creative” ways to avoid being pulled over by the cops.
Plot-wise, that’s all there is to it. Like I said, it’s pretty thin stuff.
One thing that’s not "thin", however, is the film's stacked cast, which boasts a few dozen recognizable personalities. Burt Reynolds stars as JJ McClure, who, along with his mechanic Victor (Dom DeLuise), is driving what he thinks is a vehicle no cop will dare mess with: an ambulance! They’ve managed to secure a physician for the trip, the alcoholic proctologist Dr. Van Helsing (Jack Elam), and JJ even kidnaps the sexy Pamela Glover (Farrah Fawcett) to pose as the patient they’re transporting.
Prior to being lured into the ambulance, Pamela was the assistant of Mr. Arthur J. Foyt (George Furth), a representative of the Safety Enforcement Unit, who is trying to shut the race down.
As if the kidnapping charge hanging over his head wasn’t enough, JJ also has to contend with Victor’s “alter ego”, an obnoxious superhero named Captain Chaos, whose personality often takes control of Victor’s body without a moment’s notice.
Racing against JJ and Victor are a pair of gamblers in a red Ferrari posing as Catholic priests (Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr.); two bodacious babes (Tara Buckman and Adrienne Barbeau) in a Lamborghini; An Asian racer (Jackie Chan) and his mechanic (Michael Hull) in a souped-up Subaru hatchback; A wealthy Middle-Eastern Sheik (Jamie Farr) in a Rolls Royce; Two country bumpkins (Football great Terry Bradshaw and country singer Mel Tillis) in a replica NASCAR racer; playboy millionaire Brad Compton (Bert Convy) and his associate Finch (Warren Berlinger), who disguise themselves as a newlywed couple and climb on Compton’s motorcycle; a pair of tow-truck drivers (Rick Aviles and Alfie Wise) who have a close call with a freight train; and actor Roger Moore (as himself), who, still in the throes of playing super spy James Bond, drives an Aston Martin (what else?).
Along the way, the teams do everything they can to sabotage one another while, at the same time, avoiding the cops as they speed from sea to shining sea. But who will cross the finish line first?
As comedies go, The Cannonball Run is pretty standard stuff, with much of the humor stemming from the contestants tossing insults at one another (Sammy Davis Jr. is called “shorty” more than once) and bragging about how they will be the first to reach California.
Even more routine is the fact that every vehicle is eventually pulled over by the police, forcing the drivers to think on their feet (instead of talking their way out of a ticket, Buckman and Barbeau simply unzip their skintight race suits and show the approaching officer a little cleavage, which usually does the trick).
On top of that, The Cannonball Run is a bit of a mess story-wise; some scenes are thrown in that have nothing to do with the race (the drivers, stopped by road construction, get into a fistfight with a biker gang headed up by Peter Fonda), and a few characters fall by the wayside before the film ends (Jamie Farr’s Sheik disappears after a scene or two).
What makes the film so entertaining, though, is the energy that director Needham and his performers bring to the table, and the fact that each and every one of them seems to have had an absolute blast, laughing it up and joking around both in front of the camera and (I assume) behind it.
With its cast and crew having so much fun, it’s easy to get caught up in the movie, and if you’re willing to overlook its problems, The Cannonball Run will be one hell of a ride!
Directed By: Hal Needham
Starring: Burt Reynolds, Sally Field, Jerry Reed
Tag line: "What We Have Here Is a Total Lack of Respect for the Law!"
Trivia: Buford T. Justice was the name of a real Florida Highway Patrolman known to Burt Reynolds' father, who was once Chief of Police of Jupiter, Florida
For years, Hal Needham (one of the recipients of the Governor’s Award at the other night’s Oscar ceremony) worked as a Hollywood stunt man, risking life and limb in movies ranging from The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance to Roman Polanski’s Chinatown.
In 1977, he tried his hand at directing, and over the next two decades would helm 20+ films, with mixed results. I am a fan of 1981’s The Cannonball Run, a cable favorite of mine that was savaged by the critics, but it’s sequel, 1984’s Cannonball Run II, is damn near unwatchable.
Yet even in Needham's worst outings (I couldn’t stand Stroker Ace), there were plenty of thrills, as well as a strong sense of fun, an almost party atmosphere. This was certainly the case with his debut feature, Smokey and the Bandit.
The Bandit (Burt Reynolds), a semi-retired trucker, accepts a challenge from millionaire Big Enos Burdette (Pat McCormick) and his son Little Enos (Paul Williams), who will pay him $80,000 if he successfully smuggles a few hundred cases of Coors Beer into Georgia (which, at the time, was considered bootlegging).
Of course, if he's to have any chance of pulling this off, the Bandit is gonna need some help. So he asks his good friend, truck driver Cletus (Jerry Reed), to give him a hand. Driving a souped-up Trans Am, the Bandit races down the highway, drawing the attention of every state trooper he comes across, which then clears the way for Cletus, who is following just behind in a truck full of beer.
Things go well for a while, but when the Bandit stops to pick up Carrie (Sally Field), a hitchhiker wearing a wedding dress, he inadvertently lands himself in a boatload of trouble. See, the guy Carrie was about to marry - and who she is now running from - is Junior (Mike Henry), the son of Texas lawman Sheriff Buford T. Justice (Jackie Gleason). Determined to track down the runaway bride, Sheriff Justice hits the open road, and before long is hot on the Bandit’s trail.
To say Reynolds was the perfect actor to play the Bandit is technically incorrect, seeing as he never once gives the impression he’s "acting" at all. The role of the Bandit was tailor-made for him, and for most of the film he's just being himself. There’s even a scene where, after outwitting a pursuing cop car, the Bandit breaks the fourth wall and smiles directly into the camera, something that would have felt out of place in any movie other than this one.
As for the supporting cast, country music star Jerry Reed is a great sidekick, and even provides some tunes for the film, including the catchy “East Bound and Down”. Sally Field is cute and bubbly as the fleeing bride and eventual love interest, and while they don’t appear in many scenes, Pat McCormick and Paul Williams are memorable as Big and Little Enos (especially Williams, who is hilarious).
Yet it’s Jackie Gleason’s Sheriff Buford T. Justice who almost walks off with the movie, occasionally suspending his dogged pursuit of the Bandit to toss a few side-splitting insults in the direction of his dim-witted son, Junior (“There is no way…NO WAY…that you come from my loins!”).
One of the things I always liked about Smokey and the Bandit was how carefree it feels, and how it doesn’t take itself seriously for a single moment; even the scene where Cletus gets his ass kicked by some bikers ends with a smile. Throughout his directorial career, Hal Needham showed he had a knack for keeping things light, and that’s exactly what he does in this film. Filled with high-speed car chases and lots of ‘70s C.B. lingo, Smokey and the Bandit may not be art, but it’s definitely a good time!
Directed By: Burt Reynolds
Starring: Burt Reynolds, Sally Field, Dom DeLuise
Tag line: "A comedy for you and your next of kin"
Trivia: This script was originally written for Woody Allen
Burt Reynolds both stars in and directs 1978's The End, a comedy about death, and while the legendary actor does a fine job as the lead, it's the film's supporting cast that truly stands out.
Sonny Lawson (Reynolds) is dying. Infected with a rare blood disease, his doctor (Norman Fell) informs his that he has less than a year to live.
But Sonny has no intention of waiting around for the Grim Reaper. To avoid the inevitable pain and suffering he is sure to endure, Sonny has decided to kill himself. His first attempt, swallowing a bottle of pills, doesn't get the job done. In fact, when he comes to, Sonny finds he's been committed to a psychiatric hospital.
It's here he meets Marlon (Dom DeLuise), a fellow patient he enlists to help him end it all. Yet as each successive suicide attempt fizzles, Sonny slowly realizes that, though this days are numbered, he may just have a little more living to do before his time is up.
Reynolds is solid as Sonny, and generates his fair share of laughs. In the opening scene, he tells the doctor he had no idea he was sick. “I thought I discovered some new way of losing weight.”, he says, “Throwing up”.
That said, the moments from The End that will stick with you are those that feature the supporting cast, a few of whom only appear in a single scene. Norman Fell is Sonny's low-key doctor, a man who only perks up when offering to remove Sonny's spleen. Sally Field is funny as Mary Ellen, Sonny's bubbly girlfriend, though she doesn't do much for his self esteem, claiming to have never once in her life experienced an orgasm. Two screen legends, Pat O'Brien and Myrna Loy, make a brief appearance as Sonny's slightly senile parents, and Kristy McNichol shines as Julie, Sonny's daughter and the only person in the world he feels he can trust.
My two favorites, however, are a young Robby Benson as the priest who hears Sonny's last confession (when Sonny feels uneasy calling someone so much younger than himself "Father”, Benson suggests he instead use his first name, leading to the hilarious line “Bless me, Dave, for I have sinned”) and Dom DeLuise, Sonny's partner-in-suicide and a man determined to help his new best friend “cross over” to the other side.
Despite its bleak subject matter, The End benefits from a party-like atmosphere, as if Reynolds simply got together with a group of his closest pals and filmed the whole affair. Fortunately, the audience is let in on the fun, and a good time is had by all.
