Purty mouths and rubber vests

While new-to-DVD films around the world keep my queueing finger busy, I often find a moment to watch an older film I haven't seen. Sometimes I'm delightfully surprised (Grey Gardens), and sometimes, well, there's Deliverance.

The story follows four men who all fall along the manly scale somewhere between "ultimate fighter" and "florist." These citified gents from Atlanta set off on a conoeing adventure down a river which will soon be flooded, along with the surrounding land which is inhabited by what I can only describe as mountain folk.

The group is led by the uber-macho Lewis Medlock (Burt Reynolds), followed by Ed Gentry (Jon Voight), Drew Ballinger (Ronny Cox), and Bobby Trippe (Ned Beatty). The latter is lovingly referred to as "fatty" by Medlock. From the beginning, it is clear Medlock is the alpha dog. The others find him a little dangerous, especially Trippe. The four set out on the journey unaware of the horror they will soon encounter.

There is a touching scene toward the beginning when, while attempting to find a local to drive their cars to a point at the end of the journey, the boys come across a young man whom we must assume is a product of inbreeding. Ballinger, who has brought his guitar along for the ride, begins picking. Before long, we hear a banjo off-screen, matching Ballinger note for note. This, of course, is the infamous "Dueling Banjos" song that will forever be associated with those aforementioned mountain folk. We quickly realize that Ballinger will play the voice of reason as he excitedly keeps up with the boy.

The tension mounts as they navigate through rocky terrain and angry rivers. The most frightening and disturbing moment is that other infamous scene in which Trippe is molested by one of two wayward mountain men that have stumbled upon he and Gentry. Medlock arrives, a little too late, killing one of the mountain men while the other runs off. It is at this point that the film gains momentum. The exciting sabbatical turns into a race to reach the end before their crime, along with the shadowy forest and what it holds, catches up with them.

As a cautionary tale, the film works. Just because these men possess an education, running cars, and running water, gives them little right to pompously tread and spit where they are likely unwelcome. I was, of course, reminded of Native Americans and the English who brought them, among other things, the cherished gifts of Christianity and disease. At one point I even expected a weeping Indian to stand amongst a pile of trash. Alas, it never materialized.

In the end, however, I simply couldn't get past Reynolds' way-over-the-top performance. Ever brooding, he would offer silly insight in quick, catchphrase blips. When his spirit was finally broken, his character arc complete, I didn't buy it. Perhaps it was the dating of the film. Maybe in 1972, this was fresh and new. Today, however, I just saw another film with tanned biceps and a tight rubber vest.