The Bandit is a gum-popping fountain of bad-boy antics, serving as both sex symbol for women and enviable role model for men. His rebelliousness lies in both the idea of the southern male as being a rebel and the cinematic shorthand given to fast car drivers since James Dean had his 1949 Mercury in the “chicken run” sequence of Rebel Without A Cause.
In addition, the Bandit serves as a representation of Americana, because when there is a corrupt system and beliefs (as Sheriff Justice portrays), it is the duty of the citizen to rise above and refuse to participate in such doings. If you didn’t get that last sentence, yes, I just called the Bandit a living representation of Thomas Paine’s definition of a patriot. (“It is the responsibility of the patriot to protect his country from its government.”) While I’m certain no similar case can be made for J.J. McClure, Reynolds’ character in The Cannonball Run (1981), the Bandit has (most certainly unintended) layers of characterization.
One of the key moments of the film is when, early on, the Bandit ducks behind a gas station in the middle of a pursuit and lets the pursuing officers fly by. He inches his black Trans Am up to the road. He looks behind him, then looks directly at the camera, flashes a smile, and drives off. The Bandit is the hero of his own movie, and even he realizes that things rarely happen this easily for the hero.
Sheriff Justice, on the other hand, is defined solely by the stereotypes that inform the character. For Justice to be a domineering figure, there must be an ineffectual mother, for which Junior becomes the surrogate. Much of Justice’s barbs and side comments are intended as derivative of what Justice may say at home, with his feet on his easy chair, watching a John Wayne western on a static-filled television. In fact, one might venture to guess that Sheriff Justice is happy for the diversion that the Bandit brings, because that means that he spends less time at home, and more doing what he feels most comfortable doing: using and abusing the power of law enforcement he has been given.
Sheriff Justice is a figure to be laughed at; much of what befalls him, he causes. Most of the film’s humor is derived from both his actions and his words, which vary from the innocuous (“Sumbitch”) to almost repellent (“When I get home, I’m gonna rap your momma in the mouth”). Gleason is in on the joke; he proudly portrays Sheriff Justice as the nightmare that he is. He destroys his cruiser; the roof is sheared, the wheels limp along, and the driver-side door resides in the back seat.
Carrie is a woman who is strong-willed, which is why she clicks perfectly with the Bandit. It’s apparent, based on Junior’s temperament, that she enjoys pushing him around. This may be one reason why Sheriff Justice is so adamant about capturing the Bandit; because he respects Carrie and what she can do for Junior. Before this role, Sally Field was not anyone’s idea of a sex symbol. She was cute, but still remembered as both a surf bunny and a flying nun. Sybil showed her dramatic chops, but could she handle the second lead of a comedy?
Undeniably, the chemistry between Field and Reynolds is electric; sparks were felt off-screen as well as on-screen. The ability to make Carrie sexy, willed, sassy, and self-deprecating is as much a testament to Field’s ability as it is Reynolds’ rapport and ease. The movie would have no center if there wasn’t a “will they/won’t they” romance subtext. While the rush to get the Coors to Big and Little Enos Burdette provides the glue that holds the plot together, what actually holds the movie together is the relationship between Field and Reynolds. Carrie wants her own handle for the CB, and Bandit promptly names her “Frog,” because “you jump around so much. And because I want to jump you.”
https://youtu.be/YkXgnqtH7tY
Surprisingly, there are only two scenes which feature Reynolds and Gleason; most of their interplay is over the CB radio. The first is an oft-quoted scene (“Gimme a Diablo Sandwich, a Dr. Pepper, and make it quick, I’m in a goddamned hurry!”) and the second is the final climax at the Burdette compound. The “final scene” is a staple of Needham/Reynolds films, as the Cannonball Run series has the same road race/finish line summation with the entire cast in the same frame at the same time.
The Bandit legacy lives on, in two inferior sequels and four made-for-television films. The Bandit Run, a reenactment of the route taken by Bandit and Snowman, started on May 15, 2007 and is an annual event. Over 100 black Trans-Ams took part in the event.
Hal Needham is gone from this earth now, but his book, Stuntman, is essential reading about how a guy went from doing stunts to directing. Paul Williams remains philosophical about it. After all, he composed many hit records of the 1970s and is a Grammy and Oscar winner. Hell, he composed “The Rainbow Connection”! Williams said, “No matter what is happening in my life, I’ll probably be remembered for two things: writing the Love Boat theme and playing Little Enos in Smokey and the Bandit.”
John P. Inloes is a child of the 1980s but watches every television show a 14-year-old girl does… so don’t spoil who “A” is! He’s on season two.
