The Longest Yard (1974) review

The Longest Yard (1974)

Directed by: Robert Aldrich

Produced by: Albert S. Ruddy

Screenplay by: Tracy Keenan Wynn

Starring: Burt Reynolds, Eddie Albert, Ed Lauter, Mike Conrad

This weekend, the NFL will continue with its brutal, awe-inspiring majesty of the annual Super Bowl to cap off another intense, captivating season. It’s a game that continues to defy expectations, as of all teams, the Cincinnati Bengals—perennial cellar dwellers who have never won a Super Bowl in their history—will face the Los Angeles Rams—who last won in 2000—for the right to hoist the Vince Lombardi Trophy. There are a lot of really good football movies I could review to mark the occasion; “Little Giants” is one I grew up loving, “Remember the Titans” is popular among millennials, “North Dallas Forty” is one I think deserves much more attention, and that’s not even scratching the surface. But I think I’m going to go with “The Longest Yard,” a prison comedy about a disgraced former pro quarterback who leads an unlikely team of convicts in a game against the guards. It has a lot of standard sports movie clichés, but if you’re a fan of that kind of stuff, you’ll have a lot of fun with this movie thanks to its energy and cleverly crass humor.

Paul Crewe (Burt Reynolds)—a past NFL star expelled from the league for point shaving—gets arrested after stealing his snobby girlfriend Melissa’s (Anitra Ford) car and leading police on a high-speed chase. He’s sent to Citrus State Prison, where Warden Hazen (Eddie Albert) wants him to help coach a semi-pro football team of prison guards. Crewe is pressured by head guard Captain Knauer (Ed Lauter) into accepting, and gives Hazen the idea of organizing an exhibition game against the inmates. Crewe is generally disliked because of his football reputation, but nevertheless aided by smuggler Caretaker (James Hampton), aging former player Nate Scarboro (Michael Conrad), and longtime prisoner Pop (John Steadman), he assembles a ragtag team called the “Mean Machine,” agreeing to play quarterback. Of course, the game is anything but a fair fight, as Hazen dangles Crewe’s freedom in front of him depending on the outcome, bringing up the ghosts of his checkered past.

Throughout the 1960s and early ‘70s, Burt Reynolds was the new cool kid on the block, but his portfolio had consisted mostly of television, mainly “Gunsmoke,” “Hawk” and “Dan August,” and memorable appearances on talk shows with Johnny Carson, Merv Griffin and David Frost. But in 1972, he had his breakout film role with “Deliverance,” and that same year, gained extra notoriety by posing naked in an issue of Cosmopolitan magazine. This movie was one of the first times he got to flex his comedic chops; it’s very subtle humor, often self-deprecating and at times without dialogue, like when Crewe and inmate Rotka (Tony Cacciotti) spend a whole scene in a chain gang just shoveling mud into each other’s boots and pants before eventually getting into a brawl. It’s easy to buy him as a quarterback from that time period, very much like Joe Namath or Ken Stabler, only a lot rougher and without a sense of joy for the game. Reynolds would soon after rise to greater fame, mainly in car-chase comedies like “Smokey and the Bandit,” “Hooper” and “The Cannonball Run.”

The supporting characters have a lot of personality; this is one of those movies that has a lot of buildup and intrigue for each introduction. Most of the inmates hardly even know football; they just relish the opportunity to get free hits on the guards. There’s Samson (Richard Kiel), a towering brute with bad teeth, Shokner (Robert Tessier), a deathly efficient karate expert, and Granny (Harry Caesar), the first black man willing to play; let’s just say there are a few racially charged moments in this movie. Meanwhile, Eddie Albert makes for a sneakily intimidating Hazen, character actor John Steadman gets some laughs as Pop, and for all you Broadway fans out there, Bernadette Peters—in one of her first film roles—gets an appearance as Hazen’s secretary Miss Toot, who provides Crewe game film in exchange for a…personal errand. I also like Michael Conrad as Scarboro, but I feel like the movie should’ve gotten someone older; this doesn’t feel like someone long out of the game.

Numerous current and former NFL players at the time make appearances, such as Mike Henry, Joe Kapp, and future Hall of Fame linebacker Ray Nitschke, who gives—and therefore receives—an especially rough treatment in the game. Reynolds himself actually played halfback for Florida State University—rooming with future ESPN “College Gameday” co-host Lee Corso—and made a quick impact as a freshman before injuries derailed his career, which he claimed could have actually ended up in the NFL. The movie was actually filmed at Georgia State Prison, and after filming wrapped, the inmates played a game against the state troopers with equipment left behind by the crew; it was reportedly a 66-0 slaughter by the inmates before being called at halftime.

The football action is fast and well-choreographed, and notable for just how violent the hits feel; you know if this was made today, there would be more cuts in between the various collisions. But for this situation, some of the hits and pile-ups are just hilarious to watch, almost like a “Looney Tunes” cartoon, and there are even a plethora of methods with pads and techniques that would certainly be illegal today, but here it just adds to the enjoyment factor. However, I think it’s missing a moment where Crewe actually fesses up to his teammates about point shaving. Unlike the remake, which you might say overdoes it with a sappy confession, here it all just kind of resolves itself without really feeling earned and like the players actually forgive him. I also find some of the overall character motivations really inconsistent, especially with Crewe and Knauer, and the editing has a lot of gimmicks that feel really dated, like the transitions and use of split-screen. There’s also the fact that this is just a basic sports comedy without too many surprises.

At the end of the day, “The Longest Yard” ultimately does what it sets out to do; for as many cliché elements there are, it’s still a formula I enjoy watching, bringing me back to my childhood days of reading Matt Christopher books and imagining myself as a sports hero. I got to live it one time; basketball, eighth grade, down three, eight seconds left…but that’s another story. There have been several remakes of this film, the most famous being the 2005 version starring Adam Sandler as Crewe and featuring Reynolds as Scarboro; this movie removes any edginess that the original had in favor of the usual Happy Madison shtick, although I supposed it’s entertaining enough. The original has its fair share of flaws, but it still scores a well-earned touchdown with its blend of colorful characters, slam-bang action, and clever commentary.

My rating: 8.5/10