When discussing the top box office draws of 1977, a certain range of familiar movies comes to mind. "Star Wars." "Close Encounters of the Third Kind." "Saturday Night Fever." Placing fourth on that list is "Smokey and the Bandit," perhaps the most improbable blockbuster of the year, riding a drive-in cinema obsession to greater monetary glory, turning Burt Reynolds and the Pontiac Trans Am into legends along the way. Not bad for a modestly budgeted production with a bizarre premise that will have to be explained in full to future generations. Constructing a zesty ride of car stunts, interstate shenanigans, and full-bodied star power, director/co-writer Hal Needham makes a splash with his helming debut, introducing his cartoon touch with this undeniably entertaining chase picture. There are no droids, aliens, or disco, but "Smokey and the Bandit" has a pronounced Southern charm and smash-em fervor that aids in the digestion of an otherwise overly silly enterprise that's way too permissive with its on-screen talent.
Looking to wet their whistles with a little Coors beer during a Georgia truck rodeo, tycoon Big Enos (Pat McCormick) and son Little Enos (Paul Williams) have come to renown driver Bo "Bandit" Darville (Burt Reynolds) with an offer. If Bandit can retrieve 400 cases of Coors from Texas and return the foamy treasure to Georgia in 28 hours, a great monetary reward will await him. Bringing in his truck driving pal, Cledus "Snowman" Snow (an appealing Jerry Reed), for assistance, Bandit begins the lengthy journey across state lines, depending on his skill behind the wheel and a network of CB radio buddies to help reduce interest from various forms of law enforcement. On his way back from Texas with the brew, Bandit encounters Carrie (Sally Field, cute but forgettable), a woman in a wedding gown standing in the middle of the road. Picking up the runaway bride, Bandit unknowingly attracts the attention of Buford T. Justice (Jackie Gleeson), a blustery Texas cop whose son, Junior Justice (Mike Henry), was planning to marry the eager altar escapee. With Justice in hot pursuit, Bandit and Snowman concentrate on survival, racing through the south at top speed while encountering a series of motorists and roadblocks, while Carrie finds herself falling for the confident driver, unable to resist his charm, skill, and taste in cowboy hats.
A former stuntman, often noted as one of the best in the entertainment industry, Needham makes for a questionable director. "Smokey and the Bandit" is not a film guided by a domineering creative force. It's a moonshine-splashed lark held together by a relaxed sense of humor and appreciation for southern culture, helping to cement the "good ol' boy" subgenre that would come to hold drive-in cinemas hostage for the remainder of the 1970s. There's nothing especially taxing about the feature, which is a major component of its appeal, essentially asking viewers to sit back and enjoy screen time with a merry mustached prankster as he dashes around the lower corner of America evading cops, orchestrating accidents, and trading lines with a bobblehead of an antagonist. There's a romance of sorts here with the character of Carrie, but she's primarily a dashboard decoration, used as a force of bug-eyed screen reaction when the Trans Am finds itself in precarious positions of pursuit. It's truly a brain-dead movie, but that's not a criticism, just the truth. Without any indication of the journey's timing or position on a map, there's honestly nothing to think about while watching "Smokey and the Bandit." This effort is all about car crashes, pearly whites, and Gleeson clowning around with seasoned flair.
As a stunt show, "Smokey and the Bandit" is outstanding, keeping the viewer charged up with demonstrations of speed and collision, with one terrifying encounter between Justice's car and Snowman's truck a little too close for comfort, displaying a sliver of filmmaking recklessness that flavors the viewing experience. Needham is most confident when focused on destroying cars, having a ball constructing sequences that emphasize the daredevil nature of the production, with automobiles launched into the air with abandon, generating a real-world Hot Wheels playground for audiences to marvel at. It's a fun movie to watch, especially when locked in pursuit mode, leaving long sections of the feature to roaring engines and smart-aleck behavior.
And who better to embody the spirit of the world's coolest driver than Reynolds, here at the pinnacle of his screen appeal in a role that requires more instinctual mischief than legitimate acting. The man even breaks the forth wall and gets away with it. Sorcery! Tearing through a Bicentennial-celebrating landscape with a smirk and a reservoir of quips, Reynolds keeps "Smokey and the Bandit" humming along, adding a nice contrast of cool to Gleeson's bubbling irritability, which Needham lingers on for much too long during certain red-faced explosions of rage. It's best to remain with Burt, watching the Bandit raise exaggerated hell while cheered on by a nation of CB enthusiasts and their communication lingo (don't ask me what "choke and puke" truly means), submitting such an extraordinary vehicular effort to bring Coors to the people of Georgia.
The VC-1 encoded image (1.85:1 aspect ratio) presentation brings the backwoods personality of the picture to life with a nice push of colors, with Bandit's blazing red shirt a particularly bold hue that looks satisfactory on the BD. The outdoorsy feel of the movie is also comfortably preserved in forest greens and yellow road surface markings, with a healthy palette bringing a nice lift to the image. While grain elements haven't been completely scrubbed away, they are on the inconsistent side. Edge enhancement is relatively tame, while the print remains clean, save for a few moments of speckling. Skintones are adequate with decent pinks, while detail is acceptable on faces, capturing age and atmospheric intensity. Locations reveal a good amount of texture, also maintaining clarity of distance, making the viewer feel the pressure of the chase (reading period signage is part of the fun). Shadow detail looks on the thick side with Snowman cab interiors, but "Smokey" remains a bright effort with a fondness for afternoon antics, easing the strain on blacks.
The 5.1 DTS-HD MA sound mix is tricky, with elements rerecorded years back to bring a mono track into a home theater age. Even with the additional sonic muscularity, the listening experience is fairly subdued, with low-end response restrained for long passages of the chase. Surrounds open up with grander designs of chaos and to accentuate the occasional distance, while engine revving and tire squealing only carries a moderate circular impression. Truck passing also introduces smooth directional movement. Primary attention is placed on dialogue exchanges, which sound clear but rarely full, hitting a few brief moments of distortion possibly carried over from the original sound recording. Atmospherics are detectable but seldom dimensional. What's impressive here are the soundtrack selections, which offer a crisp energy with excellent instrumentation, supporting the visual elements as intended. Scoring is comfortable, never intrusive.
"Loaded Up and Truckin': The Making of 'Smokey and the Bandit'" (20:00, SD) is a slickly edited collection of BTS stories from the production, using cast (including Reynolds) and crew interviews from 2006 and 1976. Speed is key here, with the participants leaping from topic to topic to submit a sense of the insanity that informed the shoot, also delving into backstage antics and studio concern, including the possible sexless appeal of Sally Field (who doesn't appear here). The anecdotes are considerably rehearsed but entertaining, helping fans appreciate the specialized energy that ultimately made it to the screen.
"Snowman, What's Your 20: The 'Smokey and the Bandit' CB Tutorial" (8:17, SD) meets up with Steve "Big Dog" Cronin for an education on the terms and language requirements needed to appreciate the nuances of communication while traveling along the open road.
A Theatrical Trailer (2:45, SD) is included.
"100 Years of Universal: The '70s" (11:01, HD) is a history lesson on a decade of screen achievements, using interviews with studio stars (including Russell Crowe, Paul Rudd, and John Krasinski) and creators (Steven Spielberg, Ron Howard, and Judd Apatow) to briefly explore the highlights of "The Sting," "American Graffiti," The Jerk," "Smokey and the Bandit," "Jaws," and "Animal House."
"100 Years of Universal: The Lot" (9:25, HD) steps on hallowed Hollywood ground to investigate the history of film production at the studio, utilizing help from tour guides and interviewees (including Ivan Reitman, Dan Aykroyd, and John Landis) to point out the highlights of the property, spotlighting works from Alfred Hitchcock and Robert Zemeckis, while visiting several soundstages home to the creation of countless classic movies.
"Smokey and the Bandit" is extremely goofy, but Needham keeps the film engaging, managing the lead character's outpouring of smarm with extraordinary skill. It's a blunt cinematic object (eventually giving birth to two sequels and four television movies, while making the Trans Am the must-own panty-dropping car for 1978-79), but one with a distinct pleasure zone and an amiable atmosphere of destruction and seduction. That it ended up as one of the biggest pictures of the 1970s is a surprise, but with this type of populist material and blinding level of star power, it makes sense to find the faithful returning to the feature time and again. It's hard to turn down a ride with Burt Reynolds.
As part of its 100th Anniversary this year, Universal Studios Home Entertainment will offer special re-issues of selected catalog titles, and the Smokey and the Bandit Blu-ray will arrive in the June wave. Burt Reynolds (The Cannonball Run) stars in this action-comedy ...
