Showing posts with label Billy Jack. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Billy Jack. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

A Hoot is as Good as a Holler

Hidy-hi, there, friends and neighbors near and far, over, under, around and through.

It's time once again to revisit the SPECIAL EDITION of the one and only IN THE DARK: A LIFE AND TIMES IN A MOVIE THEATER now available on Amazon Kindle

IN THE DARK is what I call my movie memoir, a book that spans a lifetime spent in my natural environment watching one great film after another. Well, maybe some aren't so great, at least not in the traditional sense, as this excerpt will illustrate for you. This is a little to-do about a special movie classification I've coined that I affectionately call Hoots.

HOOTS
A Hoot is a special breed of movie that makes you laugh, whether intentionally or not, in that very special fashion as only a private joke can. A Hoot can vary in quality from a well-made, big budget extravaganza to an absolute piece of dreck. A few examples that I consider Hoots of the highest order: MOMMY DEAREST, QUEST FOR FIRE, THE CANNONBALL RUN and FOOD OF THE GODS. Regardless of its pedigree, you will take a Hoot to your bosom and claim it like your own personal pet. For all of the love you bestow upon it, a Hoot will reward you with much joy, especially with repeat viewings and you will want to share the experience with others. Such a Hoot is:

BILLY JACK (1971-d. T.C. Frank) Its intentions are strictly honorable yet its execution is so dubious and amateurish that it is an instant Hoot classic. I can recite entire passages from this film, especially Billy Jack’s monologue in the ice cream parlor when he goes BER-ZERK! Still, as laughable as Billy Jack is, it always manages to touch some of my deep-rooted knee-jerk liberal sensibilities and I moronically blubber, “Don’t worry, you damn lovable little hippies! It’s alri
ght! Billy Jack’ll save ya!” Then I yell for the spilling of redneck blood like a crazed vigilante as Billy beats the shit of every bigoted asshole from one end of town to the other. That’s right. In the name of peace, Billy Jack kicks ass. Such is the contradictory magnificence of Mr. William Jack, Esq. whose film holds a very special place in the Hoot Hall of Fame.







Tell 'em Billy Jack set ya!

No, don't say that...He'd probably take his right foot and whoop me on this side of my face...and there wouldn't be a damn thing I could about it!
Really?
Really!

Oh, that Billy Jack.

What a Hoot.