Smokey and the Bandit

Year: 1977
Genre: Comedy
Directed: Hal Needham
Stars: Burt Reynolds, Sally Field, Jerry Reed, Jackie Gleason, Mike Henry, Pat McCormick, Paul Williams, Macon McCalman, Susan McIver, George Reynolds, Sonny Shroyer, Linda McClure
Production: Universal Pictures

A pair of southern, good 'ol boy truck drivers are dared into bootlegging beer while being chased by countless police cars on the Fourth of July. Their aided by a runaway bride nicknamed Frog (Field) and cast of colorful characters running interference and keeping tabs on them via CB radio. The only way the plot of Smokey and the Bandit could be more unabashedly American is if someone stuck a firework up their a** while singing the national anthem. Did I mention that our protagonist, the infamous Bandit is played by none other than masculinity incarnate Burt Reynolds?

urgh, urgh, urgh!

Bandit's main job is being the truck's blocker; i.e. the guy who scouts ahead and distract Smokeys (police) to clear a path for his reluctant partner Snowman (Reed). As such the Bandit drives a 1977 T-Top Pontiac Firebird Trans Am special edition with a painted valve covered V8 engine and a top speed of 135 miles and hour. To complete the ensemble, the Trans Am has gold rims, is painted black and features a golden firebird ascending from the top of one mean looking hood. Smokeys from Texarkana to Georgia try in vain to catch the legendary Bandit but alas the man is too slick, even for the likes of Buford T. Justice (Gleason) a Texas sheriff whose son's bride to be has been picked up by the bristles of Burt Reynold's mustache.

Dem Duke boys cause happiness wherever they go,
Boss Hogg whenever he goes.

The events of Smokey and the Bandit play out like a live-action Road Runner (1966-1973) cartoon with Reynold's tongue firmly placed in cheek. The antics of the smooth-talking Reynolds, the rodeo clownishness of Snowman and the game-for-anything Sally Fields makes for something uniquely satisfying. Like listening to the tit-for-tat dialogue of Oscar Wilde slumming it on an episode of Dukes of Hazzard (1979-1985). It goes a long way, especially when you consider you're essentially watching a B-movie with a wafer-thin plot.

Perhaps "thin" isn't the word to use; rather it's small and maladroit compared to cheeseball truck-centric originators like Plunder Road (1957) and Red Ball Express (1952). There's not a lot of unnecessary subplots or backstory; heck even the time-clock aspect of the film is frightfully underplayed, choosing instead to focus on mythologizing the star, the car and the CB radio. Yet largely thanks to Jackie Gleason's scenery-chewing pomposity we never get the feeling that this film is anything more than a cheap and fun carnival ride. One whose trajectory is a barrel of laughs and whose ending is surprisingly layered given the time it was released.

But who cares; stuntman turned director Hal Needham certainly doesn't and neither do the throngs of fans who have made this film a populist classic. I say let the good times roll!

Final Grade: C+