Collo d'acciaio

Well, another funny-profane-interesting-irreverent Burt Reynolds movie of the 1970s. He made so many of these type of films, several with his girlfriend at the time, Sally Field. Almost all of them have the same feel to them.

Field echos Reynolds good looks and bad morals by running around in a tight shirt with her nipples showing and pair of short shorts with a butt sticking out. This is not untypical of the movies in the 1970s, where "freedom" had arrived and many filmmakers abused it. No one had more fun with those low-moral characters than Reynolds (and Fields, I suspect, too).

Yet, I have to admit most of the Reynolds films, including this one, were never boring and usually fun to watch. Being young and a bit immature helped us appreciate these movies back then.

Not much of a story but just enough to get by. Lots of stunts including a spectacular ending sequence that delivers enough to make this an enjoyable love letter to stunt men and a solid Burt pic.

"Hooper" is one of the most upbeat films I've ever seen. Everyone in the movie is so positive. The stunt men believe they can do the stunts, the director believes in getting the big shot, and everyone seems to be having a great time. You can't help but be entertained. The chemistry between Burt Reynolds and Sally Field is believable, and some interesting supporting actors make major contributions to the fun. Even Terry Bradshaw and Robert Tessier in the barroom brawl are memorable. So the next time you are feeling a little down, I recommend watching "Hooper" for immediate relief, because everybody loves a good time and a good movie. - MERK

Hooper (1978) *** (out of 4)

Sonny Hooper (Burt Reynolds) is the best stunts-man in the business and he's working on his latest picture with a director who keeps pushing him to his limits. Hooper slowly begins to realize that his career has caused his body to be broken and it's effecting his relationship with Gwen (Sally Field) but he brings on and up and coming stunt-person (Jan-Michael Vincent) and they are asked to do a dangerous stunt that has never been done before.

Director Hal Needham, Reynolds and Field made SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT the same year as this film and needless to say that one is the one that most people remember today and it's easy to see why. This film here is Needham's love story to the men and women who perform stunts in such movies and on that level the film works and is very entertaining but at the same time there's no question that there are some flaws in the picture.

The film is obviously trying to tell the story of a man whose body is broken down due to his line of work. Needham started off as a stunt coordinator so there's no question that he knows what he's talking about and the behind-the-scenes stuff is what's so entertaining here. It's fascinating getting to see what these stunt worker are doing behind the camera and there's no doubt that there are some excellent stunts in the picture. There are some high jumps that are performed and final car jump is without question wonderful.

The problem with the film is that the whole personal drama is pretty much wasted and it never fully works. A lot of the blame can go towards the screenplay and especially the drama between Reynolds and Field. Their characters are meant to be going through some major drama but the viewer just never feels it as the relationship is really underwritten and I would argue that the Field's character is so under developed that you just can't take her too serious.

It's really too bad there's not much done with the character because Field is good when she's on the screen. Reynolds also turns in another winning performance as you really do believe that you're watching a real stunt person and the actor perfectly nails the roles. Vincent seemed to always be playing the "new" guy on the scene and he too is a lot of fun here. Brian Keith, John Marley and Adam West add nice support and Terry Bradshaw also gets a funny bit.

As I said, HOOPER is flawed at times but there's no doubt that it's a fun movie and the cast certainly makes it worth watching.

My parents ushered the young me into an 8-plex one fine afternoon prophesying an epic -- a cinematic triumph unparalleled since the days of Bergman. Disgruntled at my forebears' refusal to consent to a screening of Jaws 2, I nonetheless acquiesced and slumped into the screening room.

When I emerged a scant two hours later, I was no longer a callow youth. I had become a man.

Screen legend Burt Reynolds offers one of his most insightful, well-rounded performances as Sonny Hooper, an Achilles with a mustache, seemingly foredoomed to the stuntman slag heap by the onset of middle age. Playing the part with the gusto and verve of a man four-fifths his age, Reynolds achieves newfound heights without seeming to crack a script, winking slyly at the merry romp he has conjured. Sally (The Flying Nun) Field (who by some incredible chance happened to be dating Reynolds) plays the groundbreaking role of Hooper's common-law girlfriend, Gwen Doyle (a name so lilting and memorable, I promptly bestowed it upon all six of my goldfish). Field embodies the universal theme of a woman struggling to come to terms with a life she has neither chosen nor can escape. Kneepad-deep in beer cans, forced to wear short shorts, physically lifted and repositioned like an arc light or rubber tree, she personifies the objectification of women by the stuntmen who are themselves objectified by the studio hacks (Robert Klein) who employ them. As the winsome, perky daughter of stunt-osaurus Jocko Doyle (Brian Keith), Field set the standard by which all future stuntman's daughter roles would be be measured.

Central to the success of this story are the providential appearances of such childhood icons as James (Rosco P. Coletrane) Best, Pittsburgh Steeler Terry Bradshaw (utterly convincing as a man who gets hit in the face), and the impeccable Adam (Batman) West, who plays an actor respected enough that a film crew protectively prevents him from jumping over the side of a building. The absence of the sublime Dom DeLuise marks this film's only flaw, forgiveable considering that by this point in his trajectory, DeLuise had priced himself out of the market.

Shining through it all, dazzling in his wit, pathos, and imperfect grandeur, stands the linchpin, Burt Reynolds. Whether baring his bottom for a Xylocaine booster or outwitting the police by driving his pickup backwards, Reynolds inhabits the role so effortlessly, he seems to glide along like Clark Gable atop his Rhett Butler waltzing simulator.

Although this film had an unintentional rite-of-passage effect upon me, I was subsequently disillusioned to learn that Mr. Reynolds was not a stuntman, but an actor. Granted, the greatest actor to grace the silver screen since John Larroquette (who actually came later, but the comparison still stands), but still an actor.

It took years of therapy before I again began to trust.