As some of our regular readers undoubtedly know, I am involved in a few weekly live tweets on Twitter and Mastodon. I host #FridayNightFlix every Friday, I co-host #ScarySocial on Saturday, and I am one of the five hosts of #MondayActionMovie! Every week, we get together. We watch a movie. We tweet our way through it.
Tonight, at 10 pm et, we’ve got a classic, 1977’s Rolling Thunder!
If you want to join us this Friday, just hop onto twitter, start the movie at 10 pm et, and use the #FridayNightFlix hashtag! It’s a friendly group and welcoming of newcomers so don’t be shy.
Rolling Thunder is available on Prime and Tubi! See you there!
I’m currently in the process of watching the 36 films that I’ve recorded on my DVR since March. Last night, I was extremely excited as I looked up the 7th film on the DVR and I discovered that I was about to watch the 1977 revenge classic, Rolling Thunder!
Among those of us who love old grindhouse and exploitation film, Rolling Thunder has achieved legendary status. Based on a script by Paul Schrader (though I should point out that Schrader’s script was rewritten by Heywood Gould and Schrader himself has been very critical of the actual film) and directed by John Flynn, Rolling Thunder is quite literally one of the best revenge films ever made. It’s also a great Texas film, taking place and filmed in San Antonio. Quentin Tarantino has frequently cited Rolling Thunder as being one of his favorite films and he even used the name for his short-lived distribution company, Rolling Thunder Pictures.
Rolling Thunder also has one of the greatest trailers of all time. In fact, if not for the trailer, I probably would never have set the DVR to record it off of Retroplex on March 25th. The Rolling Thunder trailer is included in one of the 42nd Street Forever compilation DVDs and, from the minute I first watched it, I knew that Rolling Thunder was a film that I had to see.
Watch the trailer below:
Everything about that trailer — from the somewhat portentous narration at the beginning to the way that Tommy Lee Jones calmly says, “I’ll get my gear,” at the end, is pure genius.
But what about the film itself? Well, having finally seen the film, I can say that Rolling Thunder is indeed a classic. It’s also one of the most brutal films that I’ve ever seen, containing scenes of truly shocking and jarring violence. In fact, the violence is so shocking that it’s also, at times, rather overwhelming. This is one of those films that you will probably remember as being far more violent than it actually is. Because, while Rolling Thunder features its share of shoot-outs and garbage disposal limb manglings, it’s actually a very deliberately paced character study.
When we first meet Maj. Charles Rane (William Devane), he’s sitting on a plane and looking down on San Antonio. He’s in full military dress uniform. Setting across from him, also in uniform, is John Vohden (Tommy Lee Jones). The year is 1973 and Rane and Vohden have both just spent the past seven years as prisoners in a Vietnamese camp. While they were prisoners, they were tortured every day. Now, they’re returning home and neither one of them is quite sure what’s going to be waiting for them.
Over the imdb, you can find a few complaints from people who feel that Rolling Thunder gets off to a slow start. And it’s true that it takes over 30 minutes to get to the pivotal scene where Maj. Rane loses both his hand and his family. But that deliberate pace is what makes Rolling Thunder more than just a revenge flick with a kickass name. That first half-hour may seem to meander but what it’s actually doing is setting both Rane and Vohden up as strangers in their own country.
The film gets a lot of mileage out of comparing Rane to Vohden. Rane is good with words. When he gets off the plane, he gives a perfect (and perfectly empty) speech about how the whole war experience has made a better American out of him. Rane knows how to fool people but it quickly becomes apparent that, on the inside, Rane feels empty.
Vohden, meanwhile, is not an articulate man. He’s not invited to give a speech when the plane lands. Vohden cannot fake the emotions that he does not feel. At first, Rane and Vohden seem to be complete opposites (and the film wisely contrasts Jones’s trademark taciturn style of acting with Devane’s more expressive technique) but eventually, we learn that they’re actually two sides of the same coin. Both of them have been left empty as a result of their wartime experiences and, in the end, Vohden is the only one who can truly understand what’s going on in Rane’s head while Rane is the only one who can understand Vohden. When Rane needs help getting revenge, Vohden is the one that he turns to. It’s not just because Vohden knows how to kill. It’s also because John Vodhen is literally the only man to whom Charles Rane can relate.
Why does Rane need revenge? After the local bank awards him with 2,000 silver dollars (“One silver dollar for every day you spent in the Hell of Hanoi!,” he is told at the presentation), Rane returns home to discover that a group of men have broken into his house. One of them, known as the Texan (an absolutely chilling performance from James Best), demands that Rane tell them where the silver dollars are hidden. When Rane responds by giving only his name, rank, and serial number, Slim (Luke Askew) reacts by forcing Rane’s arm into the kitchen sink and then turning on the garbage disposal. (A scene was apparently shot that literally showed Rane’s hand getting ripped off by the garbage disposal but it was judged to be too graphic even for this grim little movie.) Even as the disposal mangles Rane’s arm, Rane refuses to tell them where the money is. Instead, he just flashes back to being tortured at the camp and we realize that Rane’s experiences have left him immune to pain.
Of course, the Texan doesn’t realize this. Instead, he glares at Rane and mocks him by declaring him to be “one macho motherfucker.”
When Rane’s wife and son walk in on the men, Slim and the Texan murder them and leave Rane for dead. However, Charles Rane isn’t dead. He survives but he claims that he can’t remember anything about the men who attacked him. It’s only after Rane is released from the hospital and starts to practice firing a shotgun with the hook that has replaced his hand that we realize that Rane does remember. Recruiting a local waitress who also happens to be an amateur beauty queen (Linda Haynes, giving the type of great performance that makes me wonder why I’ve never seen her in any move other than Rolling Thunder) to help, Rane sets out to track down “the men who killed my boy.”
Linda Hayes in Rolling Thunder, giving a great performance in a somewhat underdeveloped role
It’s very telling that Rane continually says that he’s after the men who “killed my boy” but he never mentions his wife. When Rane first arrived home, he had one conversation with his wife. He complained that she had changed her hair and that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Nobody wears them anymore,” She replied before telling him that, during his seven year absence, she had fallen in love with another man, Cliff (Lawrason Driscoll). And, up until she’s murdered by the Texan, that’s the last conversation that we see Rane have with his wife. Rane still lives in the house and he still tries to talk to his son (even though his son seems more comfortable around Cliff than around Rane) but Rane becomes a stranger to his family. While his wife sleeps in the house, Rane insists on staying out in the garage and continuing to go through the daily routine of calisthenics that he used to maintain his sanity while he was a prisoner.
(When Cliff asks Rane what it was like to be tortured, Rane literally forces Cliff to pull back on his arms in the same way that his Vietnamese captors had to. As I watched these scenes, I was reminded that 2008 presidential candidate John McCain cannot lift his arms above his shoulders as a result of the torture he suffered while a POW.)
When Rane goes to El Paso to recruit Vohden for his mission of revenge, we notice that Vohden also appears to be incapable of speaking to his wife. When Vohden leaves, he says goodbye to his father but not his wife. It’s probably not a coincidence that, when Vohden and Rane find Slim and the Texan, they’re at a brothel, a place where men are in charge, women are subservient, and primal needs are satisfied without the risk of emotional attachment. (It’s also probably not a coincidence that Slim is also identified as having recently returned from Vietnam. He complains that, unlike Rane and Vohden, he was never captured by the enemy and, as a result, he didn’t get a parade when he came back home.) Rolling Thunder is a film about emotionally stunted men who are incapable of interacting in any way other than violence. By the end of the film, you’re left wondering whether Rane’s mission was about revenge or about his own need to destroy.
And what an ending! When I say that the violence in Rolling Thunder is overwhelming, I’m talking about two scenes in particular. There’s the scene where Rane loses his hand and watches as The Texan casually executes his wife and son. And then there’s the ending. The final shootout was quick but it was also so brutal that I was literally shaking by the end of it.
(The scenes leading up the final shootout also featured one of the few humorous moments to be found in this otherwise grim film. When Vohden — who is inside the brothel with a prostitute — starts to put his rifle together, the prostitute asks him what he’s doing. “Oh,” Vohden says, in that perfectly weary way that only Tommy Lee Jones can do, “just going to kill a bunch of folks.”)
I mentioned earlier that Paul Schrader is reportedly not a fan of Rolling Thunder. Apparently, in his original script, Charles Rane was portrayed as being a poorly educated racist, a bit of a prototype for the character that Robert De Niro played in Taxi Driver. Ranes’s final rampage was meant to be an example of the war in Vietnam coming home and it was made much clearer that Rane’s violence was as much fueled by his own racism as by a desire for revenge. Schrader has said that his anti-fascist script was turned into a fascist movie.
A scene from Paul Schrader’s original script
With all due respect to Mr. Schrader (who I think is a very underrated filmmaker), Rolling Thunder is anything but a fascist movie. Instead, it’s a brutal and somewhat disturbing character study of a man who will never truly escape the war in which he fought. The fact that Rane is played by super smooth William Devane (as opposed to the redneck that Schrader apparently envisioned) only serves to make the film’s critique of hyper masculinity all the more disturbing. It’s interesting to note that, on their own, Rane and Vohden are never presented as being particularly likable or heroic. Instead, we root for them because the people who have hurt them are even worse.
This was how Schrader envisioned Johnny and Rane.
Though it may be far different from what Paul Schrader originally envisioned, John Flynn’s Rolling Thunder is a film that works on every level. It is both a visceral revenge film and a character study of a disturbed man. It’s a powerful film that will leave you shaken and it’s one that I will probably never erase from my DVR.
There are some movies that you just don’t dare delete.
For the past week, I’ve been in the process of reviewing 94 films about politicians and, to a lesser extent, politics. I’ve recently taken a look at Born Losers and Billy Jack, the first two segments in the cinematic life of future U.S. Sen. Billy Jack. Today, I’m taking a look at the third part of the Billy Jack saga, 1974’s The Trial of Billy Jack!
I have to admit that, when you’re watching these first three films, it’s a little hard to see how Billy Jack is ever going to end up in the U.S. Senate. After all, The Born Losers ended with Billy getting shot in the back by an overeager deputy sheriff. Billy Jack ended with Billy shooting at the National Guard and then getting arrested for murder. And then, in Trial of Billy Jack, Billy gets released from prison but promptly kills yet another member of the Posner family and then eventually, the National Guard shows up (again!) and ends up gunning down at least half of the students at the Freedom School.
If I didn’t already know that Trial would be followed up Billy Jack Goes To Washington, I think I’d be justified in being a little pessimistic about Billy’s future.
But anyway, let’s talk about The Trial of Billy Jack. After the surprise box office success of Billy Jack, Tom Laughlin and Delores Taylor set about to make a sequel that would not only revisit the themes of Billy Jack but which would touch on literally every single other political issue of the day as well. The result is a three-hour mess of a film that, despite the excessive length and a generally preachy tone, remains oddly watchable.
Despite the film’s title, the actual Trial of Billy Jack only takes up a few minutes of screen time. The prosecution lays out its case, which is that Billy Jack killed Bernard Posner. The defense calls Billy to the stand and, instead of asking him about the events that led to Bernard’s death (i.e., the fact that Bernard was a rapist and that Billy caught him with a 13 year-old girl), they instead allow Billy to give his opinions on the political issues of the day. And, since this film was released in 1974, we get a lengthy flashback to the Vietnam War where we see Billy refusing to take part in a civilian massacre.
And then Billy Jack is sent to prison. And it’s actually quite some time before he shows up in the film again. This actually took me by surprise because, when it comes to people directing films starring themselves, I’m more used to the narcissistic style of Norman Mailer. But, in Laughlin’s case, he was actually willing to stay off-screen for close to an hour and allow the film to focus on Jean (Delores Taylor) and the Freedom School.
And that is one reason why I can never be as critical of the Billy Jack films as maybe I should be. They really are such sincere films. Laughlin was willing to stay off-screen and allow the film to be about the issues and for that he should be commended. However, at the same time, Laughlin was not only the best actor in most of the Billy Jack films. He was also usually the only good actor in the films as well. So, while you respect Laughlin for not being a narcissist, you also kind of wish that maybe the film could have been more about him and less about the students at the Freedom School (which, to judge from the performances in this film, did not have much of a drama department).
When I reviewed Billy Jack, I mentioned that, if anything could cause me to transform from being the politically moderate girl that you all know and love to being a right-wing extremist, it would be having to spend any amount of time with the smug and self-righteous students at the Freedom School. Well, by the end of the first half of The Trial of Billy Jack, I had spent so much time with those students that I was on the verge of ordering a Sarah Palin bumper sticker to put on my boyfriend’s car.
(Fortunately, Billy Jack got out of jail before I went that far but seriously…)
Of course, they’re not just students at the Freedom School anymore. No, in the Trial of Billy Jack, the Freedom School suddenly has the power and resources to launch its own independent television station. The kids are now crusading journalists. They’re first expose is on a local businessman who repossessed a woman’s furniture after she failed to make the payments and … well, wait a minute. Is that really an expose? When you’re paying something off, aren’t you supposed to keep up with the payments? If the students were trying to raise money to help the woman pay off her bills, that would be one thing. But, instead, their expose seems to be that if you break a contract, there will be consequences. Uhmmm…
BUT ANYWAY! Best not to think too much when the powers of crusading righteousness are on display!
We also discover that one of the students has invented a machine that will tell you whether or not someone on television is lying. Which again … what? I mean, that’s a pretty powerful machine but it’s just kind of mentioned and then never really brought up again….
And then, for some reason, the students hold a big carnival in town and demand to know why the national media isn’t down there covering it.
Listen, this film is occasionally confusing. It’s not three hours long because it’s an epic or anything. Instead, it’s three hours long because, apparently, Tom and Delores just stuck every thought they ever had into the script. Some of those thoughts — like the TV lie detector — are abandoned as soon as they are brought up. Other thoughts — like the National Guard showing up and shooting up the Freedom School — are returned to over and over again.
Fortunately, Billy does eventually get out of jail and returns to the Freedom School. Again, he finds himself debating non-violence with Jean and he also finds himself being harassed by yet another evil Mr. Posner (Riley Hill). However, during the film’s undeniable high point, Billy goes on a vision quest. He sees a bearded professor type and smacks him. Then he sees Jesus Christ and smacks him too.
No, I’m not making that up!
However, Jesus forgives Billy and Billy learns that nonviolence is the way to go. But then the National Guard shows up and starts shooting up the Freedom School and…
(Actually, what’s funny is that one of the National Guardsmen is played by William Wellman, Jr., who also played an evil biker named Child in The Born Losers. I like to think that, after the events of Born Losers, Child cleaned up his act, got married, had a baby, and then joined the Guard. And then he ended up shooting up the Freedom School, little realizing that his old enemy Billy Jack was just a few miles away “gettin’ hassled by The Man.”*)
Like I said, The Trial of Billy Jack is a mess but I’m still going to recommend because it really is a one-of-a-kind mess. It’s one of those films that everyone should sit through at least once. Full of pretentious dialogue, half-baked political posturing, and some of the most preachy end titles ever seen, The Trial of Billy Jack ultimately stands as a tribute to the determination of Tom Laughlin to both preach to the already converted and to preserve his own unique vision.
And you know what?
Good for him! The Trial of Billy Jack may not be a good film but at least it’s a film that refuses to compromise.
Both Tom Laughlin and Billy Jack would return three years later in Billy Jack Goes To Washington!
1) Graveyard Shift — This is a Canadian film from 1986. Ever since I first saw it on DVD last year, this has been one of my favorite vampire films. It’s an atmospheric, strangely well-acted film that is just trashy enough to remain interesting.
2) Panorama Blue — I’ve never seen this movie and apparently, it’s a lost film of some sort. The trailer can be found on one of the 42nd Street Forever compilation DVDs. Apparently, this is some sort of pornographic epic. I just enjoy the trailer even though I wouldn’t be caught dead on a roller coaster. (They’re scary!)
3) Zombi 3 — This film is credited to Lucio Fulci but he actually only directed about 60% of it before he was fired and replaced by Bruno Mattei. This trailer deserves some sort of award because it manages to make an amazingly boring film look exciting and almost fun.
4) Rolling Thunder — Another film that I’ve never seen (and another trailer that I first found on a 42nd Street compilation). This is an effectively moody trailer. As a Texan, I also like the fact that Rolling Thunder apparently not only takes place in Texas but was also actually shot there with actual Texans in the cast. And I love the ominous yet casual way that Tommy Lee Jones delivers the “I’ll get my gear,” line.
5) Angel — This is a trailer from the early 80s. This is another one of those trailers that I love because it’s just so shamelessly sordid and trashy.
6) Hitch-Hike — Okay, quick warning — this trailer is explicit. Not as explicit as many grindhouse trailers but it’s still explicit enough that some people might find it objectionable. It’s certainly not safe for work though why are you visiting this site from work anyway?
However, all that taken into account, it’s still a very good trailer for a very good movie, 1977’s Hitch-Hike. Not only is it a nicely cynical little thriller, but it features not only another iconic psycho performance from David Hess but also a brilliant lead performance from Franco Nero. I will also admit right now that if I ever got my hands on a time machine, the first thing I would do would be go back to 1977 and give Franco Nero a hummer. Seriously.
Okay, I’ve said too much. Just watch the trailer and enjoy one of Ennio Morricone’s best scores.
Through the Shattered Lens 