Smokey and the Bandit

The Bandit (played by Burt Reynolds and his mustache) is a fast-living, risk-taking, hard-driving trucker. He is something of a legend, particularly along the highway. He accepts a bet to drive from Georgia to Texarkana, pick up 400 cases of Coors Light™ and haul it back to Georgia in under 28 hours. This is complicated by the issue that hauling this particular beer outside of Texas is illegal. His plan is to partner up with his buddy Snowman (Jerry Reed) who will haul the beer. Meanwhile, the Bandit will drive a black Trans-Am and will run ahead of Snowman, keeping the fuzz safely off Snowman. On their way out of Texas, Bandit comes across Carrie (Super-sexy Sally Field), a would-be bride who is running away from her wedding. Her husband-to-be is the son of Sheriff Buford T. Justice (Jackie Gleason), and he won’t allow himself to be humiliated by a runaway bride. Thus begins a trek across country with Buford T. Justice and bears from at least five different states bearing down on Burt’s ass.

This was the first in what I consider the Burt Reynolds/Hal Needham (the director)/ racing trilogy. The other two movies are Cannonball Run and Stroker Ace. Stroker Ace wasn’t actually good, but I liked it. Cannonball Run was the best of the bunch. I must have seen both of those movies at least 25 times before I reached 13 years old. However, I somehow missed Smokey and the Bandit.

Well, it may be 25 years late, but I’ve finally seen it. Was it decadently enjoyable? Yes. Did I get the same pleasure out of it that I still get from watching The Cannonball Run? No. I am left to ask if that is due to Cannonball Run truly being better than Smokey and the Bandit or certain nostalgic feelings coming into play. I would tend to favor the latter.

There are just some things one has to experience when one is young and impressionable. These things include such cultural touchstones as songs, movies or TV shows. When one experiences them at the “right” time, they leave an indelible impression. For whatever reason, when one is older, one is no longer quite so impressionable. Thus, a movie that would have affected one considerably had one seen it when he was 12, no longer quite makes the same mark when the viewer is 35. Said movie is still enjoyable. However, it is not something that the viewer longs to watch. It is not a movie that gives comfort when needed.

In short, Smokey and the Bandit was a good movie. It may have even been better than Cannonball Run. Nevertheless, I’d prefer the latter every day of the week and twice on Friday.

One particular appeal that Smokey and the Bandit had was that it revolved around truckers. The only great—not quite failure of my life but something that I would have liked to have done—was that I never drove over-the-road. I have a class A CDL. I have driven professionally (i.e. I have gotten paid to drive) for about 10 years. I have driven the big rigs (though, admittedly, most of my experience is with driving box trucks). Officially, I am a trucker in that I drive and have driven trucks including tractor-trailers.

However, I feel like a phony when I say that. Not only am I not entirely comfortable behind the wheel of a tractor-trailer, but I never went over the road. The real trucker is a guy who can honestly say that all 50 states have, at one time or another, been his backyard.

I am proud to have driven. I am proud to have my CDL. I’ll call myself whatever I call myself and it will mean what it will mean. Ultimately, the stars weren’t aligned at the right time for me to go over the road. My timing was off. I don’t regret or curse that timing or where it has gotten me, but it is something I will always wonder about.

Another interesting aspect of Smokey… were the racial overtones. Specifically, Buford T. Justice was a subtle racist. Meanwhile, the Bandit was accepting of and a hero to all—white, black, men and women (at those times, the limits of bigotry was black and white). There is nothing terribly heavy to say about this. It is just interesting given that this movie was supposed to appeal to rednecks and hicks as much as anybody. Yes, just because one is a redneck or a hick does not mean one is a bigot. Furthermore, there are plenty of urban bigots. However, there are admittedly a lot of redneck/hick bigots. Also, it is somewhat difficult to be all-inclusive when the front license plate on your car features a confederate flag.

Finally, a little bit of profundity for the mustachioed one: “When you tell somebody something, it depends on what part of the United States you’re standing in, as to just how dumb you are.”

By the way, Sally Field really is unbelievably sexy. She really, really is.

East Bound and Down loaded up and truckin…