Hooper (1978)

Burt Reynolds is great playing the stuntman. This movie is mostly about learning from the pro. Hooper describes himself well to the rookie stuntman and at the end he puts the director "in his place". Now "Smokey and the Bandit" a year earlier was a complete riot, and it left me in stitches. "Hooper" was a little on the tamer side which indeed spare a few laughs or more. The chemistry was great with Sally Field and him, and James Best was great before getting his role as Roscoe P. Coltrane on "The Dukes of Hazzard". This movie got a thrill you can spill! 9 out of 10.

Fmovies: Even if you consider the year (1977) in which Hooper was made, it's a grand representation of the "Making-of-a-Movie-Within-a-Movie" genre. The only one to come close was years later with 'Get Shorty'. 'Hooper' was grand because it was Burt doing most of his own stunts, he and Sally were still an off-camera couple, and most of all, Burt was in his element, and likely so for the last time. While working with actors and crew he knew well and was already familiar with, Burt's true persona really shone through! The first 'Smokey and the Bandit' came close, but the true Burt didn't permeate the SATB set as in 'Hooper'. After 'Hooper', the gist of this Burt was really never seen again.

"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 fmovies. 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.

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.