Alright, settle in and adjust the tracking. Remember that satisfying clunk when you pushed the tape into the VCR? Tonight, we're pulling a sturdy, reliable piece of 80s action off the shelf: 1987's Malone, starring the one and only Burt Reynolds. This wasn't the megahit blockbuster that dominated the multiplexes, but oh boy, did it find its audience on home video. For many of us, Malone was exactly the kind of tough-guy thriller you’d grab on a Friday night, maybe alongside a pizza and the hope that your parents wouldn't check the R-rating too closely. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a well-worn leather jacket – maybe not high fashion, but dependable and cool in its own rugged way.
### The Stranger Rolls Into Trouble
The setup is pure pulp gold, a classic Western transposed to the Reagan era. Richard Malone (Burt Reynolds) is a former CIA assassin trying to leave the life behind, his souped-up Ford Mustang his only real companion. When the car inevitably breaks down (a trope as reliable as a sunrise in these movies), he finds himself stranded in the picturesque, seemingly peaceful Comstock Valley, Oregon. Of course, paradise has a snake, and this one comes in the form of Charles Delaney (Cliff Robertson), a wealthy, chillingly composed right-wing extremist buying up the valley for his own twisted vision of America. Malone, just wanting to fix his car and move on, gets drawn into the conflict when he befriends the local mechanic Hawkins (Kenneth McMillan, wonderfully warm in one of his last roles) and his daughter Jo (Cynthia Gibb).
What follows is a slow burn that gradually ignites into a full-blown confrontation. Reynolds, sporting that signature moustache and an air of weary competence, embodies Malone perfectly. He’s not the grinning Bandit here; this is a man haunted by his past, capable of sudden, brutal violence but reluctant to unleash it. Reynolds always had that easy charisma, but here it’s tempered with a quiet intensity that makes Malone feel genuinely dangerous. It’s a performance that anchors the film, reminding us why he was such a massive star, even when tackling more grounded roles like this. Fun fact: Reynolds, famously having started as a stuntman, always brought a certain physical credibility to his action scenes, even the less flashy ones. You believed he could handle himself.
### Good Ol' Fashioned Mayhem
Let's talk action, because that's where Malone really delivers that VHS-era dopamine hit. Director Harley Cokeliss, who cut his teeth doing second unit work on a little film called The Empire Strikes Back (1980) – specifically the Hoth battle sequences! – knows how to stage impactful, practical set pieces. Forget floaty CGI physics; this is the era of tangible consequences. When cars crash in Malone, you feel the metal crunch. When bullets hit, they tear through wood and plaster with satisfying thuds. Remember how real those squibs looked back then?
There's a fantastic sequence involving an ambush on a bridge and a later, explosive assault on Delaney’s compound. It's not necessarily groundbreaking, but it's executed with a clarity and visceral punch that holds up surprisingly well. Cokeliss, who also gave us the cult tech-thriller Black Moon Rising (1986), favors a direct, unfussy style. The stunts feel dangerous because they were dangerous. Real fire, real falls, real vehicles being driven at speed. It lacks the hyper-kinetic editing of modern action, allowing you to actually see what's happening, which somehow makes it feel more intense. There’s a raw, almost brutal efficiency to Malone's methods that fits the character and the era's action sensibilities.
### A Villain You Love to Hate (and Familiar Faces)
No hero is complete without a worthy adversary, and Cliff Robertson absolutely nails it as Delaney. He’s not a scenery-chewing maniac; instead, he projects an icy calm and unwavering self-belief that makes him genuinely unsettling. His polite demeanor masks a ruthless fanaticism, making him a more memorable villain than many louder, flashier antagonists of the time. Robertson delivers his lines with a conviction that elevates the material, creating a palpable sense of threat.
The supporting cast is filled with reliable character actors who add texture to the small-town setting. The late Kenneth McMillan is immensely likable as the garage owner, providing the film's heart. Cynthia Gibb handles the somewhat thankless role of the daughter/love interest with grace. And keep an eye out for Scott Wilson as the conflicted local sheriff and Lauren Hutton making a brief but impactful appearance as Malone's former CIA handler, Jamie. These familiar faces ground the escalating conflict, making the stakes feel personal. Filmed primarily on location in the stunning landscapes of Hedley, British Columbia (doubling for Oregon), the setting itself becomes a character, emphasizing the isolation and the feeling that help isn't coming.
### Finding its Groove on Tape
Based on the novel Shotgun by William P. Wingate, Malone wasn't a box office sensation upon release in May 1987, pulling in around $5.5 million against a reported $3 million budget. It was overshadowed by bigger summer releases. But like so many films of its ilk, it thrived on the rental market. It became a staple on video store shelves, the kind of movie you’d grab when you wanted straightforward, well-crafted action with a charismatic lead. It’s not overly complex, its politics are painted in broad strokes typical of the era, but it delivers exactly what it promises: Burt Reynolds being a quiet badass and taking down villains with satisfying, practical firepower.
Rating: 7/10
Justification: Malone earns a solid 7. It's not a revolutionary film, and the plot treads familiar ground. However, it's elevated by strong performances, particularly from Reynolds and Robertson, confident direction from Cokeliss, and genuinely punchy practical action sequences that feel refreshingly tangible today. It knows exactly what it is and executes its premise with skill and efficiency. The pacing is solid, the stakes feel real within its world, and it delivers satisfying payoffs. It's a prime example of a well-made, mid-budget 80s actioner that found its true home on VHS.
Final Thought: In an era before digital trickery smoothed every edge, Malone reminds us of the gritty satisfaction of watching a seasoned pro handle business the old-fashioned way – with grit, determination, and a really cool car. Definitely worth tracking down for a dose of pure, unadulterated 80s action swagger.