Reviewed by Glenn Erickson
NOTE: Since writing this review, I've been informed that on some machines,
the 16:9 encoding on this disc doesn't decode properly, leaving the viewer with a
squeezed picture, that won't unsqueeze. Beware.
Sam Peckinpah's descent in the 70s wasn't pretty to watch. After his brilliant Westerns, his
pictures became erratic and self-referential and leaned toward pointless exploitation of the
violence he once claimed wasn't his central cinematic goal. By the time 1977 rolled around, he had
such a reputation for troublemaking and blithering waste, that making movies was a strange
substance-fueled activity far removed from the days when he directed with drive and spirit.
Convoy was such a joke when it came out (at least in California), that Savant never saw it.
A commercial trifle built around car crashes and a then current Trucker/C.B. Radio craze, it's a dated
eyesore attempting to cash in on various rube fads. As almost every scene has big trucks in motion,
it certainly moves, but it plays like a miserable parody of itself. As such, it's a fascinating
mess to contemplate.
Feisty independent truckers Rubber Duck (Kris Kristofferson), Pig Pen (Burt Young) and
others tangle with a crooked Arizona cop, Sheriff Lyle Wallace, known as Cottonmouth (Ernest Borgnine),
and become wanted fugitives, racing their big rigs Eastward in a difficult-to-stop juggernaut. Rubber
Duck picks up a frisky photographer, Melissa (Ali MacGraw) en route. The
runaway Convoy becomes a federal case, and a state governor (Seymour Cassel) tries to co-opt it
as a vote-getting symbol of freedom. But Rubber Duck has to question what he's doing, as he and and
his accomplices are defying the law and guaranteeing themselves prison terms for reasons they
can't articulate. Meanwhile, lots of cars and trucks crash.
In 1978, America was soaked to the gills in phony countrified corn. The Dukes of Hazzard peddled
Daisy Maes in tight cutoff jeans going 'Oh!' when fast cars (minimum 2 per episode) vaulted hidden
ramps and flipped in the air. Claude Akins was shoveling the regional dialect on prime time. Real
rural Americans should have been insulted.
Somewhere in this cultural mess, B.W.L. (Bill) Norton concocted a hi-concept story that made cash
ring in Hollywood. A cannonball caravan of truckers, see, squawkin' on their CeeBees and sportin' with
the waitresses in the backs of their cabs. Kris Kristofferson shows off his muscles. Ali MacGraw
is in for the sleek crowd, with her model's looks. What a great odd couple! Shove in redneck sheriffs,
ineffectual authorities and a massive public groundswell of support for the anarchic anti-law
truckers, and you've got a great Capra finish! All set to the hit radio song Convoy.
By this time Peckinpah was barely able to function on a movie set. Convoy had six first
assistant directors and many more second assistants, among them trusted associates of Peckinpah
covertly directing when he was too wiped out to know which end was up. James Coburn is on record as
rushing to help an old buddy, then telling him off and going out to set up a shot on his own.
This is a second-unit movie anyway. A love of big rig tractor-trailer interstate trucks will an asset
for watching this, because that's what we see for about 90 minutes of this marathon road picture: trucks
cruising, roaring down dusty dirt roads, overturning, running roadblocks. Yerhoo, it don't get better
than that, ma.
The technical work is actually quite fine. It really looks as if Kristofferson ( a lo-o-o-ng way
from his academic and folk-singing heights) is muscling those gearshifts, and good matching never
lets us think that all the cab interiors were done separately. The moving camera is fluid and
helicopter and slow-mo footage cuts together rather well.
The story is simply a crock that asks us to believe that asinine irresponsibility is a
good response to frustration with the law. Rubber Duck and his pinhead convoy express America's
growing discontent with the inconvenience of being governed in a way that only someone with 4 beers
in him could appreciate. Audiences everywhere had responded to the somewhat irresponsible
'give 'em the finger' fantasies of the Smokey and the Bandit- type movies, and it has to
be admitted that there's room for that kind of thing. But Convoy
seems made by, about, and for the nabob country morons lampooned in John Landis' The Blues
Brothers, the kind who throw beer bottles at on-stage performers.
The brawling confrontation (in pointless slow-mo, naturally) that starts the convoy is a thin
pretext, and the attempt to make Rubber Duck's interstate pursuit into a pop crusade is a joke.
Production-wise, it's all there, but all that's expressed is the pigheaded resolve of our pouting
American Hero to come out on top. Rubber Duck eventually sneaks out of the whole convoy anyway,
a little too much like an aimless Billy the Kid deciding to make a right turn and head to Mexico.
Even kids will realize that that's not going to get Rubber Duck anywere. Most viewers wonder what
will happen to the goods (and livestock) being shipped in the big trucks! Civil revolt fantasies
never worry about details.
Most of the cast are previous Peckinpah actors who rallied to help their director
for 'one last go-round, doing it right.' They must have been surprised to be left to direct
themselves. Kristofferson's character is a waste, but his personal charisma is going full tilt, and
he come out okay. Lean, suntanned Ali MacGraw now can drive a Jaguar like a pro 1
but her every dialogue line sounds ridiculously false. The rest of the cast makes little impact; Borgnine's
vicious Sheriff is a tired cliché with no resonance. It's a movie out of a cereal box.
By the time the film hit theaters, it had gone wildly over budget, effectively throwing the brakes on
Peckinpah's career. It did moderately well, but was the Gigli of its year, the kind of joke
that people used as evidence to prove that Hollywood had its head up its exhaust manifold. The CB
craze was already waning, and only a year later, the tin-ear title song that inspired the movie
was ... a year-old tin-ear novelty song.
Pacific Family Entertainment's DVD of Convoy isn't as bad as the packaging would suggest.
The transfer is grainy and somewhat washed out, but in the original Panavision ratio and enhanced
for 16:9. The sound is adequate. There are no extras, but for a budget release from a suspect label,
this looks good.
The packaging looks like someone's ten-year old did it. All the images, even the photos on the back,
are stretched out sideways, as if the design were adapted from a VHS box and just adjusted to fit
in Photoship. In fact, the text is kind of squat, too, so I'd guess that's exactly what was done. At
first glance it looks like a good color xerox that fans with DVD burners make when they .. never
mind. The packaging and the indigestible copy are so tacky, buyers in stores won't know that there's a passable, acceptably
mastered movie inside.
Convoy is good evidence that nobody destroyed Sam Peckinpah's career but himself, and is a
movie to remember when watching docus that laud him as a cinematic poet brought low by Evil
Hollywood. I watch Ride the High Country, Major Dundee, and The Wild Bunch
periodically, respect a couple more of his films, and some day want to see a 'scope print of
The Deadly Companions, or a long version of Cross of Iron. He's a fascinating guy
who really blew the opportunities of a charmed life.
On a scale of Excellent, Good, Fair, and Poor,
Video: Good -
Packaging: Keep case
Reviewed: August 29, 2003
1. Ali took her getaway
driver role in The Getaway without telling Peckinpah she couldn't drive. Steve McQueen had
to give her a crash course in how to hold the wheel, lessons which developed into a big romance
(see The Kid Stays in the Picture. Now
married to McQueen, her first marital duty was probably to win a stock car race.
DVD Savant Text © Copyright 2007 Glenn Erickson