Burt Reynolds, the charismatic Hollywood action star, has died, aged 82. Best known for his acclaimed roles in Deliverance and Boogie Nights – and sleek jet-black moustache - the actor was an icon of 1970s masculinity, bringing a breezy “good ol’ boy” Southern charm to the screen, where he proved himself equally adept at playing redneck chancers and principled men of the law. In tribute, here’s our selection of ten of Burt’s best. 10. Hooper (1978) In this archetypal action caper from Hal Needham, Reynolds starred as Sonny Hooper, “the Greatest Stuntman Alive!” Demonstrating his daredevil knack for death-defying leaps on the set of The Spy Who Laughed at Danger, Hooper develops a friendly rivalry with Jan-Michael Vincent’s up-and-coming Delmore “Ski” Shidski, which comes to a head when the project’s director Roger Deal (Robert Klein) plans a bridge jump set-piece that puts both men’s lives at risks. 9. Semi-Tough (1977) Before becoming an actor, Reynolds had hoped to become an NFL star. While he never made the cut, he did get the chance to show off his handling here in this bawdy love-triangle comedy from Michael Ritchie. The trailer frames it nicely: “It stars Burt Reynolds as Billy Clyde Puckett, a running back who lives for just two things... and one of them is football!” Co-starring country music star Kris Kristofferson and Jill Clayburgh, this is as seventies as shagpile carpetting. 8. White Lightning (1973) Very much in keeping with the Georges Jones hit that gave the film its title, Joseph Sargent’s moonshine adventure casts Reynolds in what would become a signature role, Gator McKlusky. Our man is in jail in Arkansas when he is approached by the Feds with an offer to go undercover in the backwoods, his mission to expose illegal hooch also providing a chance to track down the crooked sheriff (Ned Beatty) who murdered his brother. Speaking to The Chicago Tribune’s Gene Siskel in 1976, Reynolds called the movie, “the beginning of a whole series of films made in the South, about the South and for the South. No one cares if the picture was ever distributed north of the Mason-Dixon line because you could make back the cost of the negative just in Memphis alone. Anything outside of that was just gravy.” 7. Gator (1976) This sequel to White Lightning marked Reynolds’s directorial debut and offered a welcome second helping for fans craving another round. Again written by William W Norton, a renegade himself later convicted of gun-running, this time Gator is tasked with bringing down a corrupt politician. In the opinion of cartoon super-spy Sterling Archer, a Reynolds completist, Gator is the superior of the two outings. The actor returned the compliment by appearing in Archer as himself in 2012 – dating Sterling’s mother. 6. The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (1982) Reynolds and the glorious Dolly Parton were an inspired pairing in this highly entertaining musical from Colin Higgins, writer of Harold and Maude (1971), who had previously directed Dolly in 9 to 5 (1980). Burt Reynolds with Charles Durning in The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas (Universal/Rex) Parton is Mona Stangley, proprietress of the Chicken Ranch, a brothel doing a roaring trade thanks to the tacit approval of the local sheriff, Earl Ed Dodd (Reynolds), her long-time lover. The chemistry between the leads is a total delight. 5. Cannonball Run (1981) An actor who liked to work with his friends, Reynolds was again directed by Needham in this outlaw car chase caper based on the real cross-country pursuit from Connecticut to California. Its all-star cast included Roger Moore, Farrah Fawcett, Dom DeLuise, rat pack veterans Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr and even a young Jackie Chan. Dean Martin, Roger Moore and Burt Reynolds in Cannonball Run (20th Century Fox/Golden Harvest/Kobal/Rex) Despite poor reviews, the film was a box office hit in a year that also saw the release of Raiders of the Lost Ark and Superman II and spawned a sequel three years later, for which many of the original cast returned with Frank Sinatra and Shirle​y MacLaine along for the ride. 4. The Longest Yard (1974) Another American football-themed outing, Reynolds here played Paul “Wrecking” Crewe, a former professional quarterback fallen on tough times who ends up in jail and arranges a grudge match between his fellow inmates and the guards. Shot on location in Georgia State Prison at Reidsville with the support of governor Jimmy Carter and occasional delays to accommodate cell block riots, the cast included several star football players making cameos, Green Bay Packer Ray Nitschke chief among them. The film was remade in 2005 as an Adam Sandler vehicle, with Reynolds appearing again, this time as coach Paul Scarborough. 3. Smokey and the Bandit (1977) Perhaps the quintessential Reynolds outing - Smokey and the Bandit casts him as Bo Darville, a charming rogue using his Pontiac Firebird Trans Am to guide a big rig loaded with bootleg beer across state lines from Georgia to Texas, pursued by irate Sheriff Buford T Justice (Jackie Gleason). The directorial debut of Needham, the film is packed with the sort of skillet-fried folksy humour and petrolhead stunt work that would become Reynolds trademarks. He’s ably supported by a radiant Sally Field, as he would be in Hooper, and by another country music super star, Jerry Reed, author of such classics as “Guitar Man” and “She Got the Goldmine (I Got the Shaft)” as well as the film’s theme, “East Bound and Down”. A staple of the trucking subgenre of the American road movie, Smokey inspired two sequels. An out-take from the first, in which Reynolds repeatedly fluffs his lines, appears in the closing credits of Anchorman (2004) and offers a nice glimpse of the real man. 2. Boogie Nights (1997) Reynolds was nominated for an Oscar for his late period supporting turn in Paul Thomas Anderson‘s porn industry drama, a sprawling Altmanesque ensemble piece also starring Mark Wahlberg, Julianne Moore and John C Reilly. Although he didn’t win for his turn as director Jack Horner, the acclaim his performance attracted prompted something of a critical reassessment of Reynolds and a renewed appreciation for his smooth and sympathetic appeal. Reynolds as Jack Horner in Boogie Nights (Rex) The actor’s star had waned somewhat in the 1990s but he had a memorable, improvised cameo in The Player (1992) and did good-natured work in Henry Winkler’s family drama Cop and a Half (1993). 1. Deliverance (1972) John Boorman‘s nightmarish tale of a group of wealthy city boys forced to fight for their lives after falling foul of predatory hillbillies on a rafting holiday in rural Georgia was one of the key films of the dawning New Hollywood. Deliverance gave Reynolds his breakout role alongside Jon Voight and Beatty but Boorman and James Dickey’s screenplay offered an unstinting dissection of precisely the sort of tough guy masculinity Reynolds would later come to specialise in, making it something of a misleading introduction to his work. From the “duelling banjos” scene to the brutal rape of Beatty’s character, Deliverance is an unforgettable experience with much to say about the cavernous divides in American society we still see today. Its themes were recently revisited in Matt Palmer’s superb Netflix drama Calibre.<doc-sep>(CNN) — Perhaps best known for his broad roles, romances and stint as a magazine pin-up, Burt Reynolds’ career was a mass of contradictions. A better actor than he was often given credit for being, his filmography saw him careen from popular but easily dismissed action comedies – in which he often seemed to be playing a version of the easygoing charmer he appeared to be in real life – to more sophisticated and demanding fare, eventually achieving an advanced level of cool in Hollywood circles, albeit somewhat belatedly. He was a top box office draw in the late-’70s and early ‘80s and had several movies in the works at the time of his death. In March, when Reynolds was promoting “The Last Movie Star,” a movie about an aging star whose fame is fading, The New York Times asked him why he still worked. His reply: “I don’t know why I think this, but maybe I’ve got my best work ahead.” Here are five essential Burt Reynolds films that show off his past best work: ’Deliverance’ Warner Bros Burt Reynolds and Bill McKinney in "Deliverance." Reynolds plays a rugged survivalist in director John Boorman’s brooding 1972 movie about a buddy canoe trip on the fictional Cahulawassee River that goes terribly wrong. Reynolds’ macho, bow-wielding character winds up incapacitated, forcing his friends to find the requisite courage and grit to escape a group of backwoods sadists and get out of the woods alive. Reynolds shows off his acting muscles as well as his iron biceps. ’The Longest Yard’ Paramount Pictures Burt Reynolds in "The Longest Yard." The former high school and college athlete plays a washed-up football star in this 1974 film, which pits prisoners in a football game against their guards. Reynolds’ character is smooth-talking and fun-loving, just trying to serve his time and get out of prison. But he’s pulled into finding some integrity by helping his fellow inmates score a victory against their abusive captors. The film was remade in 2005 starring Adam Sandler, with Reynolds in a supporting role. ’Smokey and the Bandit’ Bettmann Archive/Getty Images Burt Reynolds and Sally Field in "Smokey and the Bandit." Paired with Sally Field, who became his real-life girlfriend, Reynolds is Bandit, a good-ol’-boy bootlegger looking for laughs in his black Trans Am while he helps drive beer where it isn’t supposed to go. His cheeky character provokes a local sheriff (Jackie Gleason) into one long and hilarious chase scene in the lighthearted 1977 action flick, which spawned several sequels. Reynolds often seemed most comfortable in settings that played off his good-ol’-boy image. His mustache was the envy of young men everywhere. ’The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas’ Universal Burt Reynolds and Dolly Parton in "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas." In this 1982 musical comedy, based on a hit musical, Reynolds plays the local sheriff, Ed Earl Dodd, who’s a frequent customer at a well-known bordello. Dolly Parton is the proverbial madam with a heart of gold. The two were major sex symbols at the time and casting them made the film a hit. ’Boogie Nights’ New Line Cinema/Everett Collection Mark Wahlberg and Burt Reynolds in "Boogie Nights." Reynolds, then in his sixties, enjoyed an unexpected career resurgence playing a porn producer who makes a star out of Mark Wahlberg’s character, Dirk Diggler, in Paul Thomas Anderson’s 1997 movie about the ‘70s porn scene in Southern California. Reynolds earned an Oscar nomination and reminded the world what a good actor he was. Rest in peace to a legend and a friend. #BurtReynolds pic.twitter.com/HnmCCTv1d1 — Mark Wahlberg (@markwahlberg) September 6, 2018 CNN’s Darran Simon and Michelle Rice contributed to this report.<doc-sep>While looking for the appropriate Burt Reynolds clip to lead off a tribute to the iconic 1970s movie star, who died today at 82, my first impulse was… Well, if I’m being honest, my first impulse wasn’t technically a Reynolds clip at all, but an SNL sketch featuring Norm MacDonald as Reynolds as Turd Ferguson. My first serious impulse was from that time Johnny Carson smeared whipped cream on Reynolds’ groin: And my second real thought was the blooper reel that ran at the end of The Cannonball Run: Why did my mind instantly turn not to moments’ from Reynolds’ storied career — whether his star-making Gunsmoke turn as “halfbreed” blacksmith Quint Asper, Seventies movie classics like Deliverance, The Longest Yard and Hooper, or his comeback role as a porn auteur in Boogie Nights — but to him screwing around with his famous pals? (Or to MacDonald’s pitch-perfect recreation of that?) It’s not a knock on Reynolds the actor, who was limited in some ways, but also possessed of such undeniable charisma that the James Bond producers tried to hire him to replace Sean Connery, despite him being as American as a pickup truck with a gun rack. (Reynolds passed, and later admitted what a big mistake that was.) He had raw talent to spare, which he discovered, in perfect Reynolds fashion, practically by accident: After the premature end of his football career at Florida State, he found himself taking junior college English classes and his teacher insisted on putting him on stage. I thought of the Tonight Show clip — one of many appearances where he and Carson couldn’t stop laughing in the other’s presence — and the blooper reel because they do a better job of capturing exactly why Reynolds was as big a star he was, for as long as he was. He only starred in a handful of movies that were genuinely great (and only some of them even aspired to be, as opposed to the stuntman dramedy Hooper, which was a simple idea executed with enormous affection for the subject). He picked a lot of bad projects even at his peak, and no star of his stature in the last 50 years more obviously betrayed his discomfort or boredom when he didn’t like the movie he was in. (Or, at times, the scene he was in during a movie he otherwise seemed to enjoy.) But that transparency was of a piece with his talk show appearances, with that blooper reel, his classic naked centerfold in a 1972 issue of Cosmopolitan, and the rest of the Burt Reynolds package. We loved him because he commanded the screen, but also because he never tried to hide when he just didn’t care, nor when the only thing that mattered to him — which was often — was goofing off. No one’s trying very hard in Cannonball Run (even if it’s Dunkirk compared to Cannonball Run II), yet that blooper reel felt worth the price of admission. Reynolds’ inability to control himself is infectious (it’s a wonder poor Dom DeLuise was able to speak again after that), and the joy of it recasts the entire film as exactly what it was: an excuse for the biggest movie star in the world to relax, hang out with as many equally famous pals (including Roger Moore, who wasn’t dumb enough to turn down 007), and enjoy themselves doing it. When Reynolds’ movie career was really coming into shape in the early Seventies, he still had that halfback’s physique revealing nearly as much of him onscreen — Gunsmoke had made sure to show off his arms whenever possible, and he spends most of Deliverance in a half-unzipped wetsuit — as that Cosmopolitan spread. And what he lacked in finesse, he made up for in the kind of brute force that made him the latest guy to be labeled the Next Brando. (It was his turn before it was Sylvester Stallone’s.) He could have leaned into those expectations, but he had no interest in it. (Even years later, when Paul Thomas Anderson tried to turn him back into a serious actor with Boogie Nights, Reynolds seemed unimpressed, even though his performance in the movie’s terrific — a rare time his disdain was kept under wraps.) Reynolds just wanted to have a good time — and, in the process, to give the audience one. Early in The Longest Yard, where he plays disgraced ex-quarterback Paul Crewe, Reynolds sported a shaggy hairstyle and a floppy mustache, uncharacteristic for him back then, but meant to symbolize how Crewe had turned into a caricature of himself. Within a few years, this was Reynolds’ trademark look, worn most famously as the eponymous smuggler in the Smokey and the Bandit films. It became sexy because it was Burt Reynolds sporting it, but there was also the sense of him leaning into his own ridiculousness. He liked to be comfortable, which did the same for his fans. He worked with the same actors (DeLuise, Sally Field, Charles Durning) as often as he could. He agreed to do the first Smokey on the condition that his former stunt double and close friend Hal Needham make his directorial debut with it; Needham would direct six different Reynolds films, through the end of both their career peaks. When Reynolds returned to TV as a small-town football coach in the ’90s CBS sitcom Evening Shade, the cast was loaded with former co-stars like Charles Durning and Marilu Henner. Reynolds didn’t invent the idea of famous people having a laugh on a movie studio’s dime — the Cannonball Run films brought in Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr. and (very briefly) Frank Sinatra, whose Rat Pack gave the world the original Ocean’s 11 — but he built more of his career and his whole star persona around it than anyone else. The old line about how men want to be him and women want to be with him rarely applied as universally as it did to him, as much for when he and Carson would act tipsy on The Tonight Show as for all those hit movies. He was a movie star who loved being one and never felt the need to apologize for it. Rest in peace, Bandit. We’ll try to have a laugh for you.<doc-sep>
Burt Reynolds, who died on Thursday at the age of 82, was a box-office machine, a movie star, a sex symbol, and a gifted actor. It’s hard to think of one role that best embodied Reynolds’s multi-hyphenate status; his talent and charisma combined to not only make him Hollywood’s top-grossing star from 1978 to 1982, but also one of the most celebrated actors of his generation. In honor of Reynolds’s multifaceted and storied career, here are six performances that explain his legacy. Burt Reynolds didn’t come out of nowhere when he burst into superstardom in John Boorman’s classic tale of wilderness survival. He had most notably starred for several seasons in a supporting role in the popular TV Western Gunsmoke. But it was Deliverance that pushed Reynolds to the world-dominating stardom he enjoyed for the rest of the 1970s and the early 1980s. In the film — a big hit that was nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars — Reynolds plays an experienced outdoorsman who embarks on a canoeing trip through rural Georgia with some friends, only to see a peaceful weekend descend into hell after locals decide to seek revenge on another member of the party who mocked them. By the time the weekend is over, Lewis will have committed murder, been injured, and seen a friend die. Reynolds’s swagger made Lewis the most magnetic character in the movie, even though Jon Voight was technically the lead character and Lewis spends much of the film’s second half hobbled by a broken leg. It was as potent a launch to superstardom as an actor could have asked for. —Todd VanDerWerff In many ways, the role Reynolds is most well-known for is also the one that typifies his career and his public persona. Smokey and the Bandit’s languorous but snarky down-home rebel “Bandit” Darville epitomized the kind of cheekily regressive sub-strain of ’70s machismo that Reynolds would embody for most of his life. Directed by Reynold’s lifelong pal, stunt legend Hal Needham, Smokey and the Bandit paints fast cars, fast quips, fast punches, and a steady supply of drunken carousing as a sort of remodeled redneck American dream. As Bandit puts it in the above clip, he’s ready to do his dangerous long-haul booze run out of the same principles that Reynolds himself would apply to most of his real-life decision-making: “for the good old American life, for the money, for the glory — and for the fun.” —Aja Romano The Cannonball Run has a well-earned reputation as glossy, exploitative trash (the New York Times, being kind, called it “inoffensive and sometimes funny”; Roger Ebert called it “an abdication of artistic responsibility at the lowest possible level of ambition”). But it features Reynolds, playing a good ol’ boy street racer, at perhaps the most perfect distillation of his Reynolds-osity. His brand of self-consciously beautiful, self-consciously virile masculinity is so heightened and so laced with irony as to become a burlesque long before he dons drag. —Constance Grady By the late 1980s, Reynolds’s star had dimmed considerably. His brand of smirking heroism had been shoved aside by muscle-bound action stars of the era, like Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger, and he also had a knack for choosing exactly the wrong roles. He turned down a supporting part in Terms of Endearment that later won Jack Nicholson an Oscar, and he also turned down the lead role in Die Hard, which made Bruce Willis the heir apparent to Reynolds’s “regular guy who gets out of crazy scrapes” screen persona. After a brief run of trying things that weren’t in his wheelhouse (including a musical and several straight rom-coms), Reynolds turned to television, first providing the voice of an alien for the fantasy comedy Out of This World (which somehow ran four years) and then starring as a private eye on the one-season series B.L. Stryker. But it was this CBS sitcom that won Reynolds an Emmy and actually garnered an audience. Set in the small town of Evening Shade, Arkansas, the series is middling when it comes to the quality of its actual jokes, but Reynolds attracted a top-flight cast, including everybody from Charles Durning to Marilu Henner to Ossie Davis. Reynolds didn’t have to stretch far to play an injured football player fallen on hard times, but he seemed to intuitively understand that TV doesn’t always require the best acting if it has the right actor for the part. And Reynolds was the right actor for Evening Shade.