IMDb RATING
6.4/10
8.2K
YOUR RATING
Aging Hollywood stuntman Sonny Hooper wants to prove that he's still got what it takes to be a great professional in this risky, under-recognized line of work.Aging Hollywood stuntman Sonny Hooper wants to prove that he's still got what it takes to be a great professional in this risky, under-recognized line of work.Aging Hollywood stuntman Sonny Hooper wants to prove that he's still got what it takes to be a great professional in this risky, under-recognized line of work.
- Nominated for 1 Oscar
- 3 nominations total
Norman Grabowski
- Hammerhead
- (as Norm Grabowski)
Storyline
Did you know
- TriviaIn the scene where Hooper (Burt Reynolds) and crew are watching Hooper's "stunt reel" at Hooper's house, the stunt reel contains scenes of Burt Reynolds in Deliverance (1972) being flipped out of the canoe.
- GoofsWhen Hooper drops from the zip line wire with a dog, he can clearly be seen holding a stuffed dog. It was then changed out after a cut when he landed on the jump bag. The irony is that the movie itself said no one would believe it was real if they used a stuffed dog for that stunt.
- Quotes
Jocko Doyle: You oughta drink more. Nothing hurts when you're numb.
- Crazy creditsOuttakes from stunts performed in the movie are shown over the closing credits.
- Alternate versionsTV versions have included numerous outtakes which include a much longer party scene following the fight at the Palomino Club in which: Ski discusses his marital woes with Gwen in Hooper's kitchen (a dropped subplot); an awake, and very rowdy, crowd views "stunt reels" culled from "Deliverance"; and Jocko and Sonny have a lengthier sunrise discussion about babies. Later on, Sonny and Ski also get into a hairy fistfight outside of Sonny's trialer.
- SoundtracksA Player, A Pawn, A Hero, A King
Written by Stewart Harris (uncredited)
Sung by Tammy Wynette
[Played in the montage when wen watches Sonny outside in the middle of the night]
Featured review
My parents ushered the young me into an 8-plex one fine afternoon prophesying an epic -- a cinematic triumph unparalleled since the days of Bergman. Disgruntled at my forebears' refusal to consent to a screening of Jaws 2, I nonetheless acquiesced and slumped into the screening room.
When I emerged a scant two hours later, I was no longer a callow youth. I had become a man.
Screen legend Burt Reynolds offers one of his most insightful, well-rounded performances as Sonny Hooper, an Achilles with a mustache, seemingly foredoomed to the stuntman slag heap by the onset of middle age. Playing the part with the gusto and verve of a man four-fifths his age, Reynolds achieves newfound heights without seeming to crack a script, winking slyly at the merry romp he has conjured. Sally (The Flying Nun) Field (who by some incredible chance happened to be dating Reynolds) plays the groundbreaking role of Hooper's common-law girlfriend, Gwen Doyle (a name so lilting and memorable, I promptly bestowed it upon all six of my goldfish). Field embodies the universal theme of a woman struggling to come to terms with a life she has neither chosen nor can escape. Kneepad-deep in beer cans, forced to wear short shorts, physically lifted and repositioned like an arc light or rubber tree, she personifies the objectification of women by the stuntmen who are themselves objectified by the studio hacks (Robert Klein) who employ them. As the winsome, perky daughter of stunt-osaurus Jocko Doyle (Brian Keith), Field set the standard by which all future stuntman's daughter roles would be be measured.
Central to the success of this story are the providential appearances of such childhood icons as James (Rosco P. Coletrane) Best, Pittsburgh Steeler Terry Bradshaw (utterly convincing as a man who gets hit in the face), and the impeccable Adam (Batman) West, who plays an actor respected enough that a film crew protectively prevents him from jumping over the side of a building. The absence of the sublime Dom DeLuise marks this film's only flaw, forgiveable considering that by this point in his trajectory, DeLuise had priced himself out of the market.
Shining through it all, dazzling in his wit, pathos, and imperfect grandeur, stands the linchpin, Burt Reynolds. Whether baring his bottom for a Xylocaine booster or outwitting the police by driving his pickup backwards, Reynolds inhabits the role so effortlessly, he seems to glide along like Clark Gable atop his Rhett Butler waltzing simulator.
Although this film had an unintentional rite-of-passage effect upon me, I was subsequently disillusioned to learn that Mr. Reynolds was not a stuntman, but an actor. Granted, the greatest actor to grace the silver screen since John Larroquette (who actually came later, but the comparison still stands), but still an actor.
It took years of therapy before I again began to trust.
When I emerged a scant two hours later, I was no longer a callow youth. I had become a man.
Screen legend Burt Reynolds offers one of his most insightful, well-rounded performances as Sonny Hooper, an Achilles with a mustache, seemingly foredoomed to the stuntman slag heap by the onset of middle age. Playing the part with the gusto and verve of a man four-fifths his age, Reynolds achieves newfound heights without seeming to crack a script, winking slyly at the merry romp he has conjured. Sally (The Flying Nun) Field (who by some incredible chance happened to be dating Reynolds) plays the groundbreaking role of Hooper's common-law girlfriend, Gwen Doyle (a name so lilting and memorable, I promptly bestowed it upon all six of my goldfish). Field embodies the universal theme of a woman struggling to come to terms with a life she has neither chosen nor can escape. Kneepad-deep in beer cans, forced to wear short shorts, physically lifted and repositioned like an arc light or rubber tree, she personifies the objectification of women by the stuntmen who are themselves objectified by the studio hacks (Robert Klein) who employ them. As the winsome, perky daughter of stunt-osaurus Jocko Doyle (Brian Keith), Field set the standard by which all future stuntman's daughter roles would be be measured.
Central to the success of this story are the providential appearances of such childhood icons as James (Rosco P. Coletrane) Best, Pittsburgh Steeler Terry Bradshaw (utterly convincing as a man who gets hit in the face), and the impeccable Adam (Batman) West, who plays an actor respected enough that a film crew protectively prevents him from jumping over the side of a building. The absence of the sublime Dom DeLuise marks this film's only flaw, forgiveable considering that by this point in his trajectory, DeLuise had priced himself out of the market.
Shining through it all, dazzling in his wit, pathos, and imperfect grandeur, stands the linchpin, Burt Reynolds. Whether baring his bottom for a Xylocaine booster or outwitting the police by driving his pickup backwards, Reynolds inhabits the role so effortlessly, he seems to glide along like Clark Gable atop his Rhett Butler waltzing simulator.
Although this film had an unintentional rite-of-passage effect upon me, I was subsequently disillusioned to learn that Mr. Reynolds was not a stuntman, but an actor. Granted, the greatest actor to grace the silver screen since John Larroquette (who actually came later, but the comparison still stands), but still an actor.
It took years of therapy before I again began to trust.
- How long is Hooper?Powered by Alexa
Details
Box office
- Budget
- $6,000,000 (estimated)
- Gross US & Canada
- $78,000,000
- Gross worldwide
- $78,000,000
- Runtime1 hour 39 minutes
- Sound mix
- Aspect ratio
- 1.85 : 1
Contribute to this page
Suggest an edit or add missing content