Collo d'acciaio

"Hooper" is yet another example of Burt Reynolds at the top of his game. Burt was a superstar who enjoyed making these action comedies for the summer drive-in crowd. The films usually made bundles of money and were usually pretty enjoyable. "Hooper" is one of Burt's better comedies of the 70's. He plays the title character, an aging Hollywood stuntman looking to make that last great stunt for the money and retire before his body gives out on him and serious damage occurs. Sally Field yet again plays Burt's girlfriend and, yet again, isn't given a whole lot to do. Jan Michael Vincent plays the new, young, hot shot stuntman that worries Burt. Brian Keith has a nice turn as Sally's father who happens to be a veteran stuntman himself.

The characters are not the important thing though. You go to see "Hooper" to laugh and enjoy the action scenes. The filmmakers deliver the goods on both counts. One standout scene involves a bar fight involving such tough guys as Terry Bradshaw. Burt confronts Terry one on one and it's the comic highlight of the film. The stunts are sensational and the final stunt is, thematically, totally ridiculous. But it's so well filmed we forgive the obvious silliness.

"Hooper" is a fun film to watch but make sure to see it uncut. It seems that many of Burt's PG-rated movies of the 70's stretched the limits to get as close to the R-rating as possible without going over the line. "Hooper" is no exception.

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.

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.

Burt Reynolds is at his rollicking best as devil may care stuntman Hooper who's beginning to feel his age. The hot breath of competition in the person of Jan-Michael Vincent is breathing down his neck. Reynolds prizes the fact that he's the best in the business, but it's a young man game that demands a young man's reflexes.

Brian Keith knows how Reynolds feels, Reynolds dethroned him as number one and Reynolds keeps company with Keith's daughter Sally Field who would dearly love it if both of the men in her life would just get out of that rough business.

Hooper has little plot to it, it's a character study of the people who go into that line of work and a touch of insanity seems to be a needed ingredient for success. The title role is something that fits Reynolds like a made to measure suit

John Marley is in the cast as your stereotypical ulcer ridden producer and Robert Klein has a great part as a truly obnoxious director, one of his early good ones. And of course the stunt work stands out on its own as well as being an integral part of the plot.

Hooper even got an Oscar nomination in the Sound category. A definite must for Burt Reynolds fans.

Following the success of the 1977 film "Smokey And The Bandit" Burt Reynolds was, for a short time at any rate, the world's no.1 box-office star. Alas, like so many actors who get to the top Burt soon found himself losing his mantle as he stumbled from one lousy picture to another. Part of the problem was that Reynolds formed a long-running partnership with stuntman-turned-director Hal Needham, a union that yielded too many bad movies. In total, the two men worked together six times. A chronological list of their films together would run like this: "Smokey And The Bandit", "Hooper", "Smokey And The Bandit II", "The Cannonball Run", "Cannonball Run II", and "Stroker Ace". Of this sequence, only the first two are really worthy of praise. The others are generally rather poor movies which met with considerable negativity from the critics and did little to enhance the star's popularity with the public. "Hooper" was released in 1978 and, as noted, was the second of the Reynolds-Needham collaborations. It is a simple but very slick story set in the world of testosterone-fuelled Hollywood stuntmen, and is perhaps the best of Reynolds' late '70s/early '80s films.

Sonny Hooper (Burt Reynolds) is a middle-aged Hollywood stuntman. He leads a freewheeling lifestyle with his girlfriend Gwen (Sally Field) and her father Jocko (Brian Keith), who was himself once a leading stuntman and is something of a father figure for Sonny. Sonny begins to feel the heat when a young new stuntman named Ski (Jan Michael Vincent) appears on the scene and threatens to take his mantle as the bravest performer in the business. Believing that he has never proved his greatness - neither to himself, his girlfriend, his companions nor the younger generation of the profession – Sonny decides to pull off one final stunt so dangerous and outrageous that it will cement his place in legend. Film-maker Roger Deal (Robert Klein) offers Sonny just the stunt he is looking for. Deal is busy making a James Bond style adventure movie and needs two fearless drivers to perform a record-breaking 325 feet leap across a collapsed bridge in a jet-fuelled sports car. Sonny and Ski agree to do the jump, even though everyone close to them urges them to turn it down as the odds of performing it successfully seem almost impossible.

"Hooper" is admittedly a light film with a story that demands little of the viewer, but on its own terms it is an enjoyable and involving film. The performances are surprisingly strong and nuanced for a film set in the world of macho stunt performers. Reynolds appears brash on the surface but elicits genuine humanity in the scenes where he torments himself over the daredevil legacy he wants to leave behind. Field is superb as his terrified girlfriend; Vincent shows gung-ho spirit as the youthful pretender; Keith is wonderful as the old-timer who has lived long enough in the business to appreciate the value of survival; and Klein gives the best performance in the entire film as the single-minded director willing to risk the lives of his stunt team in order to shoot the greatest action sequence ever filmed. The film is punctuated with several impressive action sequences, and climaxes with the jet car leap around which the story is based. This closing sequence is brilliantly put together – with real suspense generated about whether the drivers will or will not survive their attempt. As brash, brainless and brawny as it is, "Hooper" is still a tremendously enjoyable film. Fans of fast cars and sensational stunts will revel in it!