Although it is hard to pinpoint exactly who invented the shotgun, most historians view “the father of the modern shotgun” as gunsmith Joseph Manton. For the Manton family and legacy, they might have a picture or a painting of their great relative hanging over the mantlepiece above the fireplace. However, if I were one of them, I would double-barrel that painting sky-high and replace it with a professionally framed poster of the VHS cover of the Burt-Reynolds-starring, Shane-meets-Rambo wannabe auctioneer Malone (“Come back, Burt!”).
Having baby boomer parents, my mother fully admitted to having the infamous Cosmopolitan spread in which Reynolds needed his arm to cover up his… well, let’s say his loose cannon (talk about packing a piece), but not even that loaded poster has blasted as hard as Malone did on the minds of eager renters in the late 80s! The VHS industry was a rough landscape back in the day, and much like Richard Malone wandering into the sleepy little Oregon valley town, it was wild west rules on what would attract the viewer to pick up that single tape over more than ten thousand other options. Creative artistry (or as a modern film historians like to call it – trickery) helped guide the eager customer to grab the smoking gun before others could, and sure, the filmmakers could have used the originally theatrical one sheet, but nothing says you’re in for a wild night (or horrible evening depending if you liked the film or not) then our mustachioed hero blasting a sawed off shotgun into the air (maybe he was trying to stop people from running to the box office to get their money back)!
Okay. So, let’s get this out of the way once and for all – the wig is bad (hey, every actor knows this is a hard role toupee). Now that we’ve said it out loud, we can begin the long road (wrong movie, Rambo) to recovery, which you might need after this (not so) violent master blaster. Based on the novel Shotgun by William Wigette, the film is derivative of so many films and novels, least of all Shane by Jack Shaefer, and although they have taken the western into the modern age, the film itself is still a little too western for modern tastes. Standing in the shadow of such films as Pale Rider, Yojimbo, A Fistful of Dollars (itself a direct remake of Yojimbo), and Hondo, it is not a surprise that the film had a hard time packing an audience into the theatre. Made on a budget of ten million dollars, of which three million went to Reynolds (one million to his wig maker), the film must have had a silencer attached at the end, only making a tiny puff of noise, earning three million. However, like the hero that rides off into the sunset, thanks to a terrific VHS cover, the film earned nearly ten million in VHS rentals and sales (I guess the hairpiece made a little bang for its bucks). Besides a great last ten minutes (in which Reynolds becomes one of the first heroes to walk away from an explosion), the film offers very little new, but the villains do help you get through the little peacemaker. Not only does it feature Academy Award-winning cult star Clift Robinson (Charly) as the lead villain, but we also get flawless marksmanship in acting from veterans Tracy Walker (Batman) and Scott Wilson (The Walking Dead). But the highlight of the film is giving character actor Dennis Burkley (King of the Hill and Pass the Ammo) his due justice (or just desserts) on screen! It plays out like a made-for-TV movie that should have starred Bo Svenson (Walking Tall with a Broken Mustang), Malone might have fared better armed as a Charles Bronson Cannon bullet than the water pistol Reynolds received. Although viewed at the time as a great opportunity for Reynolds, he felt odd being cast in a movie, such as new 80s action stars like Christopher Lambert and Gérard Depardieu (un film de Maloné?) were considered for (I guess their rug budgets were too expensive).
As CIA assassin Richard Malone holds his sniper rifle on his commissioned kill, he suddenly becomes a Grinch and develops a heart, which leads to him turning in his license to kill (Reynolds was once actually considered to play 007). As he wanders off into the sunset in his broken-down blue Mustang, the transmission blows right outside the garage of a mechanic named Barlow (Wilson). Needing a place to stay and shave, Malone becomes a guest of Barlow, whose daughter (played well by Cynthia Gibb of Short Circuit 2 fame) finds him intriguing and dangerous (that tends to happen when you hide a .44 Magnum Automatic in your overnight bag). Though Malone enjoys the people, he does want to get going, until ultra conservative cult millionaire leader Charles Delaney and his paid hoodlums begin to irritate the lonesome cowboy. From trying to shoot him in the back at a local barber shop to Uzi shooting him while he takes a nap (give Burt a break, it’s hard to be an 80s action star) to crooked cops taking shortcuts through purple mountain crapholes, Delaney’s gang keep making mistakes, and the biggest mistake is ticking off Malone (as director Dick Richards)! Even the chief of police (Kenneth McMillan of Dune) and his former CIA boss (a wasted Lauren Hutton) shenanigans rub Malone the wrong way. Not even a bullet to his stomach can stop him (from making love to his former boss, for that matter), until they kill her while he’s out getting his car back. Hell hath no fury like a (balding) ex-Vietnam veteran, and watch as he unleashes his fury on the bad guys in leisure suits with automatic guns running amok.
Trigger warning your way at (en)gauging ninety-two minutes, and directed by Harley Cokeliss (who would pump out winners like Warlords of the 21st Century and Black Moon Rising), this would be part of a slew of box office grenades for Reynolds along with Stick, Heat, Rent-A-Cop, and Physical Evidence before he would steal a hit with Breaking In. You can full choke this on most streamers like Tubi, but be sure to get a grip (ten and two for all the Semi-Tough fans) on the VHS at your local thrift store bin. So, if you are ever trying to take over the local town by brainwashing all those coffee-fueled Karens and Kens (‘Murica), make sure they don’t tick off a veteran with a broken-down clunker-junker, because like the (less inferior) poster says: Ex-cop/Ex-CIA/Ex-plosive (diarrhea coming out like a shotgun)!
