Un uomo da buttare

Director John G. Avildsen fit this low-keyed comedy in between his "Save the Tiger" and "Rocky" ("Tiger" screenwriter, Steve Shagan, served as executive producer here). It's a Robin Hood-styled anti-hero story with musical asides and a distinct feeling for the south in the late-1950s (the nostalgia for the era isn't laid on with a trowel, and the evocative milieu is very loose and natural). Thomas Rickman's screenplay tries for originality in its characterization, though the movie's charms lie mainly in the impeccable casting, the filming locations, and in the colorful detail (Avildsen shows a gift for throwaway pleasures and minute, happy bits of business). Burt Reynolds, grinning up a storm, is on the run from the law after robbing a series of filling stations with a water pistol; he takes up with a traveling country-western band for a cover, but slowly begins to appreciate the friendships he makes there. Conny Van Dyke's Dixie, the band's singer-guitarist, is a marvelous creation (and the actress nearly upstages Reynolds in the bargain), however Art Carney's Deacon arrives too late (when interest in these adventures begins to flag). It isn't a terribly memorable (or even successful) picture, however there are moments scattered about that work a little ramshackle magic. ** from ****

this film has such a mediocre rating. It's a fine night's entertainment and it takes us back to an earlier time in country music before every big and medium-size city had its country station. The important thing is not to lose patience during the first half, when it seems like it will be forever before they get their act on the road, and pay no mind to the back story about the Southern Oil Company....in fact the 'hold up' of the bank really doesn't fit the rest of the film, it is almost too surreal, like Burt's Olds. Reynolds comes off like the poor man's Sam Phillips, getting these crackers onto Grand Ole Opry, and that moment when he spurns Van Dyke's advances as he hears the boys launching into something that sounds like music is stirring.

That era is gone, but treasure the final scenes when Art Carney's car radio pulls in sounds from the ether that you won't hear today on the airwaves, where every voice comes out of broadcasting school. Rate this somewhere about 7 on a scale of 10.

Burt hit it big in the 70's, but some of his best stuff is now obscure. This film was poorly based on a book, and that's cost it in terms of appreciation, but after all these years it stands up well on its own. Sure, there are silly plot holes, but it's a lighthearted comedy that features some great country and bluegrass, and a rockin' Jerry Reed belting out a respectable Johnny B. Goode, too! But particularly savor the fifteen minutes or so given to Memphis blues legend Furry Lewis. That man played a wicked slide guitar, and I'm not sure how much footage actually exists besides this film.

Art Carney was perfect as the preacher with a gun and plenty of fire and brimstone who loved tracking down the occasional sinner/thief. Yes, there's great comedy here too, but the music is what makes the film.

This film was replayed a lot on 70's TV, that's where I learned to love it. And after having watched it last night (on a poor TV-formatted copy which was, I believe, otherwise unedited), I believe it's gotten better with age. Don Williams showed that he was a pretty darned good actor in addition to being a successful country crooner of the era. Mel Tillis was great as a goofy gas station attendant. But savor Furry Lewis. How wonderful that we got to see this wonderful legend in good health making that slide guitar scream on his front porch.

One of my favorite Burt Reynolds' movies...Saw it for the first time at a drive-in movie theater in Central Ohio. One of my favorite memories is the laughter coming from my parents and I because we had lived in TN and got the humor. The local audience in OH missed it.

This one is definitely my favorite Burt Reynolds film. Here Burt plays W.W. one charming crook who's made it his life's work to take from a certain chain of gas stations wherever and whenever he can. But just because Reynolds has a grudge against the company no reason to take it out on the poor filling station attendants. Leaving them a little something extra guarantees them giving police descriptions of a kaleidoscopic variety.

The Dance Kings are country dance band looking for the big break and they're headed by Jerry Reed. Conny Van Dyke is their singer named Dixie. Time and circumstance throw Reynolds and the band together and with his natural charm and gift of gab Burt guarantees to make them a success and some more filling station holdups finance their future.

But the company ain't taking this lying down. The head of the company is Sherman G. Lloyd one harder than hardshell Baptist. He hires his own investigator, former southern sheriff now gospel preacher Art Carney and he's a dedicated man of the law and the Lord always in reverse order. In fact his own strict moral code trips him up in the end in a really grand climax.

W.W. And The Dixie Dancekings is a film that I can't imagine anyone else making but Burt Reynolds. It's maybe the drollest performance he ever put on the big screen.

Art Carney for those who see him as lovable dumb Ed Norton are in for quite a revelation. Carney is so different, but so good as Deacon John S. Gore who never let it be said took his religious beliefs nightly. He gets himself on a gospel show financed by Lloyd who by the way plays it as a Strother Martin light. I think that was who was intended for the part originally. He uses the radio audience to locate that 'devil' Burt Reynolds.

W.W. And The Dixie Dancekings is not a great film, but it is great rollicking entertainment.