THUNDERBOLT AND LIGHTFOOT: 4K UHD Blu-ray (Malpaso/UA, 1974) Kino Lorber

On the strength of his marquee drawing power, Hollywood heavy-hitter Clint Eastwood could get projects made. Director, Michael Cimino’s directorial debut, Thunderbolt and Lightfoot (1974) is a peerless buddy/buddy action-caper, comedy-drama. In retrospect, the 1970’s were especially adept at combining elements from various tried and true genres to create intriguing hybrids. Not all were successful. But a good many became involving experiments. The story of how two seemingly incompatible reprobates meet by chance (let’s call it fate) is at the crux of Cimino’s thoughtful and compelling screenplay. While the movie’s ‘heist’ premise is its raison d'être, Cimino’s forte for character-driven drama is exceptionally well thought out here. Thunderbolt and Lightfoot is principally meditative; the action serving the story – not the other way around, as is the case with today’s similarly occupied drivel. Yet, herein we get a deceptively not-so-simple story, even more richly satisfying because it is about very complex people, trapped in their severely flawed relationships - some motivated by greed. These are misfits who never quite fit into the acceptable fabric of mainstream society, preoccupied with their otherwise less than fortuitous, if mutually evolved modus operandi to remain apart from the status quo.

Thunderbolt and Lightfoot marked a turning point in the careers of Michael Cimino and co-stars, Clint Eastwood and Jeff Bridges; the latter, Oscar-nominated for his heartrending performance as this story’s sacrificial lamb. Cimino, who began by making short commercials for Madison Ave. was to get his big break because of Eastwood, subsequently looking to expand on his own screen persona as the strong/silent antisocial with guts. One of the most heavily debated aspects of Thunderbolt and Lightfoot is its’ inverted theme of friendship between men – Eastwood’s trademarked identity as the guy’s guy of very few words usually confined to God’s lonely man; subtly, to prove very capable of taking this decisiveness to heart.  Interestingly, Jeff Bridges thoroughly loquacious sidekick steadily evolves to become this movie’s centerpiece. Lightfoot is, at once, endearing yet quite unable to be taken seriously. Throughout, the picture is fraught with the crackle of a homoerotic subtext gone well beyond good-natured bro-mantic chemistry. Who can say? In the final reel, neither fellow is talking – Eastwood, because talking just isn’t his thing, and, Bridges, for more ominously unsettling and penultimate tragic reasons (spoiler alert – more on this in a moment).

Compared to like-minded popcorn pleasers of its vintage (and certainly most any movie being made today), Thunderbolt and Lightfoot is excitingly multi-layered, a tinge of raunchy humor, deft social commentary, self-conscious ruminating, and, even a glimmer of Shakespearean tragedy recast with commoners and relocated to the sparse wilds of Montana, all of it radiantly photographed by Frank Stanley. For Jeff Bridges –just another fresh face in a sea of many then, and, struggling to make his mark, Thunderbolt and Lightfoot was the beginning of everything. For Eastwood, the movie provided yet another testament to his clear-eyed skills both in front of, and behind, the camera, intuitively capable of spotting a winner (as though any further proof were required). Important to pause on Eastwood for a moment, his early iconography as the solitary reaper ensconced in Sergio Leone revisionist spaghetti western cycle. From this auspicious beginning, Eastwood has since gone on to be regarded as one of the most respected figures in American cinema. For Eastwood, it must have seemed kismet, the stars aligned in his favor. Time and tenure have confirmed Eastwood’s knack for recognizing a good solid opportunity to advance his career and develop a more varied body of work.

For Michael Cimino the veneer was thin. Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, Cimino’s first directorial assignment, is a distinct leg up – as it were – given credence by Eastwood’s blind faith and clout in Hollywood to get the picture made on his terms, and, by his own production company – Malpaso. It was first proposed by William Morris agent, Stan Kamen, citing the public’s recent fascination with ‘road pictures’ after Dennis Hopper’s wildly popular, counterculture classic, Easy Rider (1969) struck box office gold. But Cimino had come to Hollywood with nothing more on his résumé than a series of expensive TV commercials made for some very high-profile New York clients, trading his day job for a chance at the big time. How swift the rise of a legend, and, as lamentably quick, his fall? The implosion of Heaven’s Gate (1980), Cimino’s western colossus made just two years after being crowned the prince of Hollywood for his multi-Oscar-winning The Deer Hunter, it would ultimately leave his professional reputation in tatters. But for the moment, Cimino was riding an exhilarating new chapter in his fledgling career under Eastwood’s expert tutelage, delivering his movie on time and under budget. Eastwood kept tight reigns on the production, encouraging it along when Cimino might have preferred to dally a while longer.

Yet, Cimino, who could be counted upon for his caustic, scathing opinions about Hollywood folk, maintained a genuine respect for his star/producer/mentor herein, later stating that, if not for Eastwood, he would never have made it past the front gate. And Thunderbolt and Lightfoot unequivocally confirms Eastwood’s faith in Cimino had not been misplaced.  Fair enough, this is not a Michael Cimino film, even with Cimino in the director’s chair. Nor does it represent the visionary who would hold audiences spellbound with his lengthy, oft’ lyrical tome about the Vietnam experience, or the painterly wanderer in search of truth and greatness, denied both and entering the log of film immortality as a negligent despot, consumed by over-indulgences on Heaven’s Gate. Cimino was arrogant. There is little to refute this. But he was also a storytelling genius, prematurely misjudged and misrepresented by the critics for his character failings rather than to be critiqued on his mastery of the cinema language in all its glories and virtues. On may argue, Thunderbolt and Lightfoot rises to the occasion as an engrossing plat de jour of the road picture subgenre, not because of Cimino, but rather Eastwood’s telescopically focused, tight control of the production, and his cache as a Hollywood heavy-hitter, practically to guarantee it would turn a profit. That’s fair, up to a point. But even without Eastwood, Thunderbolt and Lightfoot has a lot more going for it.

For one: Paul William’s superb underscore, at once understated yet profound, and featuring the prophetic ballad, ‘Where Do I Go From Here’ with such sweetly panged lyrics as “Tell me where - where does a fool go when there’s no one left to listen, to a story without meaning that nobody wants to hear. Tell me where – where does a fool go, when he knows there’s somethin’ missin’; tell me where – where do I go from here?” Where, indeed? Perhaps, to sing the praises of Cimino’s deft and sure-footed direction. Remember, this is his first movie. But Cimino maneuvers through some very wide-open spaces like a seasoned pro, capturing the remote grandeur of, Hobson, Fort Benton, Wolf Creek and Great Falls, Montana without ever allowing any of it to overshadow the intimate ‘bromance’ unexpectedly developing between its stars. American movies have a generalized aversion to show candid warmth between men. Either frowned upon as feminizing masculinity or deflated by the, as glib and utterly self-deprecating buddy/buddy repartee – real/reel men don’t have emotions, Thunderbolt and Lightfoot is a refreshing departure from these stock cliches, dovetailing into its heartbreaking climax, the sudden loss of one sincerely felt by the other.

And then, there are the, as yet, unmentioned villains of the piece; George Kennedy’s superbly unscrupulous, Red Leary – a real menace, and, his foppish crony, the incongruously named Eddie Goody (played strictly for laughs by the scene-stealing Geoffrey Lewis).  In part, due to his formidable girth and acting stature, Kennedy’s métier has typecast him as the perennially dim-bulb/thug muscle (though he was as adept playing swiftly assured men of action in movies like Airport 1970, given half the chance). He is positively brutish in Thunderbolt and Lightfoot – an irredeemable and grotesque pig of a human-being with zero compunction about exploiting, selling out, or even leaving for dead his partners in crime. If only his Leary had more on the ball between those lumbering shoulders, he might make out alright as the gorilla with an avaricious desire to succeed.  On the flip side is Lewis’ shifty-eyed ditz with a gat, looking ridiculously festive in his pristine white ice cream truck driver’s uniform (a cover to get to know the lay of the land for their planned robbery). Why an oaf like Leary would keep Eddie around is a mystery. He cannot even competently discharge his firearm without a nod from his sullen handler. Thankfully, Lewis makes something more from this comic relief; an acutely sincere, yet utterly insecure daydreamer. Kennedy and Leary are the Mutt and Jeff of this piece, great counterpoints to the lanky Bridges, a sort of dapper wannabe, and, the sinewy Eastwood, butch enough to entice the male ticket buyer, but able to satisfy as rough-hewn eye-candy for discerning women in the audience too.

Emblematic references to gender-bending aside, Thunderbolt and Lightfoot does, in fact, contain ample references to men enjoying the company of other men.  Bridges’ Lightfoot, with his already graceful moniker, prone to infrequent giddy chirps like a tufted titmouse, is virtually incapable of satisfying his primal sexual urges with the opposite sex. Tooting his horn at a female motorcyclist (Karen Lamm) only incurs her wrath. She, in fact, takes a hammer to the heavy metal side panel of his borrowed van before taking off down the road, Lightfoot shouting after her with meaningless abandonment, “I think I love you”. In another incident, a horny housewife (Luanne Roberts) does everything but plaster her naked self against the clear expanse of a patio door to entice Lightfoot’s shirtless and sweat-soaked lawn jockey into a flagrante delicto. Yet, all Lightfoot can do is stare.  It isn’t exactly an adoring gaze either, but one fraught with nervous bewilderment and certainly nowhere as full of adoration as the looks Lightfoot shoots Thunderbolt throughout this movie. But are these glances the pang overtures of a closeted homosexual or simply the long-suppressed emotions of an unhappy child who thinks he has suddenly found his long-lost surrogate father-figure in Eastwood’s largely romanticized ex-con?  Eastwood’s Thunderbolt is not exactly adverse to Lightfoot’s puppy love, perhaps never more bitter-sweetly expressed than in the final moments of the movie, when the fatally-stricken Lightfoot says goodbye with a sort of subliminal ‘I love you’ caught in his sad squinty eyes, Thunderbolt’s disbelief at his partner’s unexpected passing “Hey kid…ah, geez!” carrying more weight in Eastwood’s delivery than in the line as written.

Our story begins when a hotshot ne'er-do-well going by the name of Lightfoot (Jeff Bridges) steals a Trans-Am from a used car lot. Lightfoot’s out on a spree, living in the moment without any consideration for what might come next. Meanwhile, on an isolated stretch of highway, surrounded by a golden halo of wheat, the ‘reverend’ Thunderbolt (Clint Eastwood) – hair slicked back, collar turned around – is holding mass in a dingy little house of worship for the Bible-belt faithful. Regrettably, his sermon is interrupted by some able marksmanship by an enraged Red Leary (George Kennedy), who burst into the temple, guns blazing, and making chase through these amber waves of grain. As luck would have it, this happens exactly at the moment Lightfoot is passing through in his stolen car. Spontaneity is Lightfoot’s middle name. So, he makes the impromptu decision to pick up ‘the preacher.’ Now, this unlikely duo takes to the open road. Later, Thunderbolt confides in Lightfoot his assailant is actually a former accomplice from a botched robbery he committed on a local bank. Leary believes Thunderbolt - the only surviving member from the old gang – knows exactly where the half-million payout is hidden. But Thunderbolt confesses the money’s whereabouts were left in the care of another accomplice - electronics expert, Dunlap, who has since died. The one clue Dunlap left behind, that the money is kept behind a blackboard in a one-room school house somewhere in the state of Montana, means nothing to Thunderbolt.

The first act of Thunderbolt and Lightfoot is a rather meandering affair, prone to farcical vignettes. The story does not advance so much as it lurches forward in fits and sparks, including a moment when our unlikely partners in crime are picked up on the side of the road by a wild-eyed mountain man (Bill McKinney) driving a rickety old jalopy with a rerouted hose plugged from the exhaust pipe into the backseat so he can inhale the fumes. A rabid raccoon is locked in a cage, and there is a twelve-gauge shotgun on the front seat, and, a trunk full of fluffy, white rabbits ready to leap on cue. After escaping this psychopath, Lightfoot picks up a pair of prostitutes for the evening; one, for Thunderbolt, who doesn’t much care for the offering…at first. Thunderbolt elects to take Lightfoot to Warsaw, Montana to retrieve the money, only to discover the original one-room school house Dunlap described has been replaced by a new state-of-the-art facility. It looks like the end of the line in more ways than one, especially when our heroes return to their car, only to be held at gunpoint by Leary and Eddy. Leary has Thunderbolt drive to a remote area, intent on executing him, but not before he gets Thunderbolt to confess the whereabouts of the money. Having no desire to wind up in a body bag, Thunderbolt plays it straight with Leary. Regrettably, the oafish thug cannot accept the truth, exacting his revenge on Lightfoot with his fists. It is a brutal assault subdued too late by Thunderbolt who gives Leary a taste of his own sour medicine after disarming Eddy first.

Now, Lightfoot proposes another heist. To hell with the lost money! Why not rob the same company again with a minor variation on their original strategy?  Everyone agrees the plan has merit. But it will also require some careful planning and camouflage. Thunderbolt suggests they all get jobs in order to raise enough capital to buy the equipment needed to pull off the burglary. Thunderbolt is employed as a welder at a local factory, briefly unnerved when the sultry HR person asks for his social security number (presumably, as a career criminal he has never had one). Lightfoot is hired as a landscape laborer, befriending the boss’s nephew, Curly (Gary Busey, in a brief cameo) who lends him the company’s truck to run an errand. Eddy takes a gig as a sissified ‘Good Humor’ man, using his route to mark time and get the lay of the land. Leary is the holdout, at first absolutely refusing to take on a job, but later, rather begrudgingly, becoming a night janitor at a local department store – forewarned by one of his coworkers (Alvin Childress) the company’s watch dog is a ruthless killer.

Lightfoot incurs Leary’s wrath by planting a kiss on his cheek. Leary vows to destroy Lightfoot after the heist. But for now, the duties ascribed for the robbery are thus divided: Eddy to drive the getaway car, picking up and dropping off everyone under a well-oiled/exceptionally timed plan of execution, designed to minimize casualties and mishaps. First up, Thunderbolt and Leary stage a break-in at the vault manager’s (Jack Dodson) home, forcing him to give up the safe’s combination. They terrorize his wife and promiscuous 16-year-old daughter in their nylon stocking masks, gagging and tying up the family.  Thunderbolt, impersonating a security officer, enters the compound, presumably to hold Leary at gunpoint. The pair subdues an armed guard once they have gained access inside the plant.  Changing into yet another disguise at the local pool hall, Lightfoot - now in impossibly hammy drag - entices the overweight Night Manager (Cliff Emmich) monitoring the security system (already distracted with indulgences in his porn magazine) before knocking out the slug and gaining access to the controls, turning off the alarm shortly after Thunderbolt and Leary have tripped its censors by firing their armor-piercing canon into the vault walls.

At first, the plan goes off without a hitch, the foursome rendezvousing at a nearby drive-in where they simply plan to take in the show, waiting out the police and then, parting company with their divided shares of the loot. Too bad the drive-in ticket seller notices Leary’s shirt tail protruding from the trunk. As Thunderbolt and Lightfoot have only paid for two admissions, the seller reports the car to her manager who calls the police. Thunderbolt panics and a dangerous chase ensues. The police fire several rounds into the back of the getaway car.  Eddy is mortally wounded, his body tossed out by Leary once Thunderbolt has temporarily dodged police and driven into the backwoods.  Leary forces Thunderbolt at gunpoint to stop the car. He pistol-whips both Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, exacting a particularly vicious payback on the latter by repeatedly kicking him in the head. Taking off with the loot, Leary quickly encounters the police. Unable to evade them, he instead loses control, driving through the front of the same department store where he works as a janitor. The store’s Doberman attacks, going for Leary’s jugular and killing him before the police arrive.

Escaping on foot, Thunderbolt and Lightfoot hitch a ride to Warsaw, inadvertently stumbling upon the rumored one-room schoolhouse where the original stolen money is presumed to have been hidden. For a long, quiet moment both men survey this heritage site with renewed awe – nee fear – that their quest for the money might come to not. But then, Thunderbolt begins to pry the blackboard loose from the wall, astonished to discover the $500,000 still sandwiched between the trusses. Only something is terribly wrong. Lightfoot is experiencing repeated bouts of dizziness, blurred vision and numbness in his extremities. Not long afterward, to celebrate their newfound wealth, Thunderbolt buys a Cadillac convertible, the car Lightfoot always wanted to own. It ought to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Tragically, time has run out for Lightfoot who suffers a brain hemorrhage, quietly dying in the front seat with a look of serene pride writ large across his crooked smile. Unable to comprehend this sudden loss, Thunderbolt speeds away to an as uncertain future as the lone survivor of our ill-fated story.

Thunderbolt and Lightfoot did respectable box office. But it was hardly a blockbuster. Clint Eastwood vowed never again to make a picture for United Artists, the distributors, because he felt the company’s lack of a unified marketing campaign had let all of their hard efforts down. Nevertheless, the movie’s cult following has long since endured and rightfully so. Thunderbolt and Lightfoot remains a poignant buddy/buddy flick, crammed with colorful characters, some starkly beautiful cinematography and a truly vibrant narrative, masterfully written and visualized by Michael Cimino.  Great movies are often overshadowed and/or overlooked in this passing parade of otherwise disposable entertainments. Good marketing can sell almost anything to the public. Sadly, it usually takes a truly outstanding movie to withstand its absence. Thunderbolt and Lightfoot deserved a farther-reaching reputation in its own time. Incontrovertibly, this is Michael Cimino's first masterpiece!

Kino Lorber’s native 4K edition of Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, mastered off an original 35mm original camera negative, easily bests the retired Twilight Time Blu-ray – released twice before as a limited edition. Kino’s looks dynamite: a very crisp image, subtly nuanced with refined colors, a warmer palette, and, minute details that pop off the screen. The accurately rendered flesh tones are exquisite. Contrast is superb. Love- LOVE – the way this image looks; film grain immaculately reproduced with a total absence of age-related artifacts for a very smooth and satisfying visual presentation. We get two audio options, a remastered 2.0 (theatrical) and an ungraded 5.1 DTS. While spatial separation is undeniably more noticeable on the 5.1, I actually prefer the 2.0 here for its authentic 70’s limited sonics. The 4K contains an audio commentary from critic, Nick Pinkerton. It’s an ‘okay’ track, that never really tests the boundaries of backstory knowledge. Kino has included a standard Blu too. This contains Pinkerton’s track, and adds a brief featurette: For the Love of Characters - with Cimino, plus radio and TV spots and an original theatrical trailer.  Bottom line: Kino’s new 4K is the way to go for Cimino’s classy caper. A ‘no brainer’ for sure and highly recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

5

EXTRAS

3