Eccesso di difesa

Jackson County Jail (1976)

*** (out of 4)

Dinah (Yvette Mimieux) gets into a fight with her boss and when she returns home she catches her husband cheating on her once again. She's finally had enough and takes a job in New York and decides to drive cross country but after picking up a pair of hitchhikers everything goes to Hell. She's robbed by the hitchhikers and this leads to a run of bad luck, which has her thrown in jail with bad boy Coley Blake (Tommy Lee Jones).

JACKSON COUNTY JAIL walks a fine line between a serious drama and the type of exploitation flick that were very popular at the drive-in during this era. I must admit that I'm really shocked at how well-made the film was and at how little exploitation there actually is. I say that because Roger Corman was the producer and we know what type of movies he was pumping out during the 1970's. Fans of good dramas should enjoy this picture.

The greatest thing for the film are certainly the two lead performers as both of them deliver excellent performances. You just can't help but feel bad for Mimieux and she perfectly captures this character, her heartache and eventually her willingness to fight to try and live. Jones is also excellent in this early performance as the tough guy who was "born dead." The two actors share some great chemistry and really make for an entertaining team. We even have Robert Carradine in a small supporting role.

The film features a pretty non-graphic but disturbing rape sequence, which is extremely well directed by Michael Miller. The sequence is quite tense without crossing the lines of bad taste. The film runs a very quick 83-minutes and there's really not a slow spot anywhere to be found. JACKSON COUNTY JAIL has a big cult following and it's easy to see why.

In the pantheon of exploitation flicks, the fugitive genre is one of the most important ones. "Jackson County Jail" is a key example, with an arrested woman (Yvette Mimieux) fleeing with an inmate (Tommy Lee Jones). There's lots of fun in store. This movie does have one particularly rough scene, but it adds to the story. Mimieux's character is one who you hope will succeed; after seeing what happens to her, how can you not? Jones's character is a loser who tries to do the right thing. It manages the proper balance of action and drama. Worth seeing.

The rest of the cast includes Robert Carradine (Revenge of the Nerds), Severn Darden (a character actor in the '60s and '70s) and Nan Martin.

Fundamentally "Jackson County Jail" has all the makings of a crass exploitation picture but is, in fact, a hard-hitting pro-feminist expose of American mores. It also gives that fine and underrated actress Yvette Mimieux one of her best roles as a young businesswoman whose drive across America turns into a nightmare that begins when her car is hi-jacked and goes all the way downhill from there to rape and murder. Of course, whether the audiences of the day caught the film's underlying message or just enjoyed the blatant sex and violence is a different matter but it has certainly built up something of a cult reputation and is well worth seeing.

"Jackson County Jail" (1976), directed by Michael Miller, offers a stark and unflinching look at the darker side of America's justice system. The film centers on Dinah Hunter, portrayed by Yvette Mimieux, a woman who finds herself trapped in a nightmarish scenario after being wrongfully arrested in a rural county. The gritty atmosphere and raw performances drive the narrative, creating an intense and often uncomfortable viewing experience.

Mimieux delivers a compelling performance, capturing Dinah's descent from a successful advertising executive into a victim of a corrupt and brutal system. Her portrayal is both vulnerable and resilient, allowing audiences to empathize with her plight. Tommy Lee Jones, as her unexpected ally Coley Blake, provides a rugged counterbalance, adding depth to the story with his brooding presence and complex character development.

The film's direction by Michael Miller is effective in maintaining a relentless pace, ensuring that the tension rarely lets up. However, the screenplay by Donald E. Stewart can sometimes feel heavy-handed, with dialogue that occasionally lapses into melodrama. The narrative's strength lies in its portrayal of systemic failure and the perils of seeking justice in an unjust world.

Visually, "Jackson County Jail" makes good use of its desolate rural settings, reinforcing the protagonist's isolation and desperation. The cinematography by Bruce Logan captures the bleakness of the American countryside, enhancing the film's somber tone. The action sequences, while not overly stylized, are visceral and serve to heighten the sense of urgency and danger.

Despite its strengths, the film is not without its flaws. Some supporting characters are underdeveloped, and certain plot points feel contrived. The climax, although tense, leaves several questions unanswered, which may frustrate viewers seeking closure. Nonetheless, "Jackson County Jail" remains a thought-provoking exploration of survival and resistance.

Overall, "Jackson County Jail" is a solid thriller that engages with its raw portrayal of a woman's fight against an oppressive system. While it may not be a cinematic masterpiece, it offers enough grit and substance.

Fast, tough, and unsentimental. Sure, a potboiler like this is not going to win any awards, but it's got more sheer pluck and energy than twenty A-productions of the time. Pity poor Dinah Hunter (Mimieux). One minute she's a bigshot ad executive in Hollywood; the next, she's ducking cop bullets somewhere in fly-over country. It's a yuppie nightmare all the way for poor Dinah, a steady downhill once she tries a cross-country car ride. On the way she meets homicidal kids, a chiseling waitress, a righteous cop, and a prison guard from heck. No wonder she's on the run with cool dude Coley (Jones). How else can you deal with a cross section of Roger Corman's rural America. Next time she better take the plane like other bi-coastal types.

Corman really hit pay dirt with hillbilly epics like Boxcar Bertha (1972), Big Bad Mama (1974), Crazy Mama (1975), and this one. One look at these and you'd think rural America is just as bloody and hormonally driven as big city America. But these epics are also in the great tradition of the American B-movie, those cheap productions that show guts, energy, and style. Sure, a flick like JCJ is also what some might call vulgar and exploitative, which it is. Still, there can be a lot of truth even in exaggerated crowd pleasers. Besides, these drive-in specials are generally entertaining as heck, just like this one.