Here we are, on the eve of what would have been Burt Reynolds’ birthday and gassy from drinking too much Coors. What would be a more appropriate way for us to spend our time today than to talk about SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT and its ultra-70s experiment in melding together a southern-fried booze running movie and a tobacco-stained trucker movie? Throw in a wicked country soundtrack and both pairs of Sally Fields’ chubby cheeks and it’s a recipe for a good time.
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