Burt Reynolds bookends

Burt Reynolds is a talented actor.

It’s easy to forget that. One Smokey and the Bandit can be forgiven and even enjoyed, if a tad guiltily; the sequels can’t (and my bud Charles postulates that it was his unwavering loyalty to Jerry Reed that undid him during this part of his career). Follow that with a Stroker Ace here and a Cannonball Run there, and it’s not tough to build an opinion that the most meaningful thing the guy ever did was play a doddering dad on Evening Shade.

I choose two films by which to remember the greatness of which Reynolds was/is capable. On the front end, his portrayal of Lewis Medlock in Deliverance was a tour de force. Yeah, yeah, I know, “squeal like a pig” and all that, but have you actually watched the film front to back? It’s a horrific masterpiece, and Reynolds was the second coming of Marlon Brando waiting to happen.

On the back end, his Jack Horner in Boogie Nights was an excellent balance of humor, drama, and tragedy. Moreover, it effectively highlighted the strengths and weaknesses of a seasoned professional on the edge of not just burnout, but total and spectacular collapse. That his business was blue movies was irrelevant; it could have been anything and remained poignant.

I think Burt Reynolds made some poor choices. When he did have a role in which he could shine, however, he was masterful.

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