David Lean, Orson Welles, and Alfred Hitchcock’s favourite Burt Reynolds movie: “Shocking, really”
As big a star as he was during the peak of his popularity, and he was a mighty big one, considering he was the highest-grossing actor at the domestic box office for six consecutive years between 1973 and 1978, Burt Reynolds was never an actor the industry’s foremost auteurs were dying to work with.
There’s a clear distinction between an actor and a movie star, and there are no prizes for guessing which camp Reynolds fell into. After his breakthrough big-screen role in John Boorman’s ‘Best Picture’ nominee Deliverance, the moustachioed beacon of machismo settled into his groove as the charming and charismatic star of high-octane thrillers and knockabout action comedies.
It was an approach that worked wonders for years until a string of bad choices saw him tumble down the Hollywood ladder. In an alternate timeline, Reynolds would have remained on top in perpetuity had he not turned down parts in movies like Star Wars, Terms of Endearment, and even James Bond, but it wasn’t to be.
While the greatest directors of his era were hardly clambering over themselves to recruit Reynolds for their next picture, it didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy his work. After all, three of the finest filmmakers to ever wield the megaphone were all massive fans of the exact same film, which is even more bizarre considering the movies they were best known for.
David Lean was the master of the sweeping epic, helming classics like Lawrence of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago, and The Bridge on the River Kwai, winning two Academy Awards from 11 nominations. Meanwhile, Alfred Hitchcock is responsible for a string of seminal thrillers that reinvented the language of cinema, and Orson Welles exploded onto the scene as the wunderkind behind Citizen Kane before adding The Magnificent Ambersons and Touch of Evil to his collection.
None of them made anything remotely resembling a Reynolds-esque star vehicle, especially Smokey and the Bandit, the rootin’ tootin’ road trip caper co-starring Sally Field with a plot that hinges almost entirely on 400 gallons of bootleg beer. And yet, according to the star, the holy trinity of elite auteurism couldn’t get enough.
“What’s wonderful, though, what’s shocking, really, is that after David Lean saw it, he told Hal [Needham] what everybody told him: what a great filmmaker he is. He said, ‘I love Smokey and the Bandit,'” Reynolds told Cowboys & Indians, and he wasn’t done there. “It was one of Orson’s favourite films. Alfred Hitchcock told me he liked it, too.”
Directors are allowed to enjoy movies that don’t reflect anything in their own filmography, but still, Smokey and the Bandit? The thought of the majestic Lean, the meticulous Hitchcock, and the enigmatic Welles all being entranced by 96 minutes of pedal-to-the-metal shenanigans anchored by Reynolds at his best is every bit as fascinating as it is bizarre.
