Texas Lightning

Hillbilly trash from the early 1980s that should have been thrown out the truck windows along with all the beers cans and newspapers the characters toss while heading to their hunting destination. What was that? The characters are repeatedly shown throwing piles of trash out the windows - was that just part of what being a Good Ole Boy was about? Littering enough to make up for all the non-littering sissies with full mouths of teeth? There is a wet t shirt boob dunking contest that occurs in a roadhouse while a drunken brawl spills across the room and out into the parking lot. The coverage goes back and forth between these two things happening. They're about as exciting as they sound. Peter Jason is really annoying as the perfectly cast loud and annoying life of the party dirtbag, who is an optometrist during the work week. Cameron Mitchell gets beat in an arm wrestling contest by somebody who looks like Bocephus. Marcia Brady is the roadhouse bartender. The roadhouse scene goes on for a long time. Peter Jason is more and more annoying. Their friend whose dentures break in the sink at the beginning of the movie, he's annoyingly lousy through out the movie as well. Maureen McCormick questions "who knows what's good?" when told smoking is bad for her. The answer certainly isn't this moronically lousy excuse for a... father son comedy? Coming of age comedy? Buddy dramedy? Oh yeah, there's a rape scene, too. Classic Good Ole Boys.

Marcia's hot in this one. She does her own version of the "bull ride" in a trailer that would've made the Bradys' proud. Barry Williams wishes he could have had a scene like this with her in the 70's. Hell, we all wish we could have had a scene like this back in the 70's. With all the recent Brady revival, they should re-release this cheesy classic.

A misguided father (Cameron Mitchell) wants to make his shy, sensitive son "into a man" (and it's about damn time since the young character, played by Mitchell's real-life son, looks to be about twenty five). He decides to take him on a hunting trip with his buddies, two of the sorriest excuses for "men" around. (Even in Texas this pair would be regarded as fat, dumb, redneck losers). The hunting trip/rite-of-passage involves getting drunk and driving into the 120 degree Texas summer heat to shoot at beer bottles and bunny rabbits (if this makes one a "man", then my friends in Wyoming and I would have achieved manhood at about ten). Later they go to a honky-tonk bar where the most pathetic wet t-shirt contest you ever saw is taking place, and a Hal Needham/Burt Reynolds-style bloodless brawl breaks out every five minutes. There the boy meets a pretty young barmaid and aspiring prostitute (Maureen "Marcia Brady" McCormick)and takes her back to the hotel room. They suffer some traumatic coitus interruptus, however, when the two redneck friends bust in a force themselves on "Marcia", I mean Maureen. The movie then turns into a REALLY tame and bloodless (in every sense of the word) rape-revenge flick.

This movie started out as a more serious "Macon County Line" type of a film, a labor-of-love by talented cinematographer and not-so-talented director Gary Graver based on his own script called "The boys" (which certainly must have, given the title, recognized the irony of a group of immature middle-aged butt-wipes who everyone still refers to as "boys" trying to initiate ANYONE into manhood). The distributors renamed it "Texas Lightning" possibly to fit with the wretched country-music theme song (or vice versa)and re-edited it into a sub-"Smokey and the Bandit", sub-"Dukes of Hazzard" redneck-athon with a lot of alleged comic relief and an implausibly happy ending. The uneven (to say the least) tone will give you cinematic whiplash. Cameron Mitchell, who was the only really good actor in this, refused to participate in the re-shooting and just disappears entirely near the end. It's rumored that in the original Graver cut, still floating out there somewhere in terminal litigation, the two rednecks meet a much more unpleasant, if deserving, fate. (In MY cut they would receive shotgun enemas in the first five minutes and be left rotting in a shallow grave in the desert along with the "good ole boys" responsible for the crappy theme song). You'll have to take Graver's word for it that his cut is any kind of masterpiece, but the one under consideration here is certainly worthless dreck regardless.

Most people today will no doubt see this for Maureen McCormick's brief "nude scene", but frankly you'd have better luck spotting subliminal ads for hot dogs and soft drinks from back when this played the drive ins. The only remotely sexy aspect of this movie involves a scene with the implausibly attractive young girlfriend of one of the rednecks dressed in a see-through teddy. McCormick is OK as an actress here, but she's pretty miscast as a tough honky-tonk Southern girl. She also "sings" at point, which will invoke, for those of us Americans of a certain age, traumatic and previously deeply repressed memories of the notoriously ill-advised "Brady Bunch Variety Hour" TV show (shudder!). Not recommended--at least until when (or if) the Graver cut is ever released.

This movie is baaaaaaaaaaaaad. It is also inadvertently hilarious at times. I mean, Marcia from the Brady Bunch has a part in it, so how good can it be? The video box for this flick says this film is the "warm, funny story of a boy growing up." Actually, it's the story of a wuss with an overbearing dad who wants "to make a man" out of his loser son. The son meets Marcia from the Brady Bunch at a bar when he's out on a hunting trip with his dad and his dad's two friends. Marcia and the son go to a hotel for some lovin' and then the dad's friends bust in, throw the son out and force themselves on Marcia. The next day the son begins to go psycho. He gets so angry at one of his dad's friends the director does a hysterical slow motion shot of the son throwing a plate of food in the face of one of his dad's friends. I guess the director thought it would be a more impressive shot that way. You get the idea...rent this if you like really bad, bad, BAD movies. Later gator.

A common strategy for a life in film is to trust certain artists, and few confound the spirit like Orson Welles. His best work was done late in life and much of that either we never will see or see corrupted. So we have to go spelunking through all sorts of abandoned shafts, and the most frustrating of these is following Gary Graver around.

He's a nitwit, but he was Orson's nitwit, and he did make one rather interesting porn film.

Now this is a goofy one: written by someone else, featuring no one at all who seemed to know much about what they were doing, and a story about the same. It appears that the result was so bad that the sponsor send Graver back to reshoot as he wished. So we come to this to see Orson imposed on Graver imposed on a disaster of a film about men imposing themselves on another.

Its something of a terrific game to sort out which was original and which replaced. In other words, which Graver was told to do and which he chose to do, remembering that everything he knew about film was from Welles. Its not worth it at all unless you are prepared for a great hunt and you know what the master was thinking toward the end.

Shooting for fun, shooting by Texas nitwits.

Ted's Evaluation -- 1 of 3: You can find something better to do with this part of your life.