The year is 1977 and you can’t get a permit to transport Coors beer east of the Mississippi. Texan tycoon Big Enos (yes, read that out loud) has sponsored a racer and wants to celebrate his success with a taste of home. After failed attempts, Enos hires Bo “the Bandit” Darville to truck 400 cases of Coors from Texarkana, Texas to Atlanta, Georgia in 28 hours. The Bandit partners with Cledus “the Snowman” Snow to drive the truck while Bandit drives up front in a black Pontiac Trans Am to “block”—driving crazily to attract police attention away from the truck’s illegal payload. After arriving in Texarkana ahead of schedule, the boys head back east. On the way, the Bandit picks up a runaway bride named Carrie and in doing so, attracts the attention of Sheriff Buford T. Justice (whose son was meant to wed Carrie). This sets off a fun cat-and-mouse game across five southern states in which the Bandit finds adventure, community, and love.
“Smokey and the Bandit” is sort of a mindless popcorn movie with a silly premise but, I don’t care—it totally works! From mustaches, to 18-wheelers, to CB radio, to bellbottoms, to the South in general, this movie had a way of making things I don’t consider cool, seem really really cool. The car chases were exciting, the soundtrack was fun and energetic, and the frequent shots of Sally Field’s butt as she reached for things in the back-seat were beautiful and should be celebrated by everyone. The film sets up a handful of really interesting, fun characters and then just plays with them, never digging too deeply into their souls or the consequences of their actions. My favorite was probably Buford T. Justice, the bloated, arrogant, racist caricature (but maybe not) of southern law enforcement played brilliantly by Jackie Gleason. I could say there’s a message about freedom, rebellion, and the nature of justice hidden in here, but—meh. Just have fun with this one.