Let’s be real for a second. If you grew up in the late '70s or early '80s, the Trans Am was more than just a car; it was a cultural icon. Burt Reynolds, the mustache, the laugh—it was movie magic. Then 1983 happened. Smokey and the Bandit Part 3 hit theaters, and suddenly, the wheels didn't just come off the car; they flew off the entire franchise.
It’s one of the weirdest artifacts in Hollywood history.
Why? Because the movie we ended up seeing wasn't the movie they actually filmed. Most people watching it today on a lazy Sunday afternoon have no clue that the production was a total disaster of identity crises and last-minute reshoots. Honestly, the story behind the scenes is way more interesting than the plot about a fish mascot filled with milk.
The Smokey is the Bandit Disaster
The original plan for this film was bold. Maybe too bold. Universal Pictures decided to lean into the comedy of Jackie Gleason, who was undeniably the best part of the second film anyway. The movie was originally titled Smokey IS the Bandit.
In this version, Jackie Gleason played both Sheriff Buford T. Justice and "The Bandit." There was no Jerry Reed in the lead. There was definitely no Burt Reynolds, save for a tiny, blurry cameo at the very end. The premise was that the Enises (Big Enos and Little Enos Burdette) challenged Buford to deliver a shark to a seafood convention. To make it harder, they hired a legendary driver to stop him. That driver? Also played by Gleason.
They actually shot this entire movie.
Test audiences hated it. They were confused. Seeing a 67-year-old Jackie Gleason in a Trans Am wearing a fake mustache just didn't compute for people who wanted the high-octane energy of the first two films. Universal panicked. They realized they couldn't sell a Bandit movie without a Bandit, so they called Jerry Reed.
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Reed, who played "Snowman" Cledus Snow, was essentially promoted to the Bandit role. They did massive reshoots, replacing Gleason-as-Bandit with Reed-as-Bandit. If you watch the movie closely, you can see the seams. The lighting changes. The continuity is a mess. It’s a Frankenstein’s monster of a film.
Why Jerry Reed Couldn't Save the Day
Jerry Reed was a legend. A country music powerhouse and a genuinely charismatic screen presence. But he wasn't Burt Reynolds. In Smokey and the Bandit Part 3, Reed is basically doing a Reynolds impression. He wears the red shirt. He does the laugh. It feels forced because it was.
The chemistry was gone.
In the first film, the dynamic between Reynolds and Reed was authentic. They were buddies. In the third film, Reed is isolated from the main "Smokey" plot for a huge chunk of the runtime. Most of the movie is just Jackie Gleason yelling at his son, Junior (played by Mike Henry), while they chase a Trans Am that isn't even the right year or model to satisfy the purists.
The script felt thin. Really thin. By the third go-around, the "race across state lines" trope was exhausted. Instead of bootlegging Coors beer (which was actually illegal to transport east of the Mississippi back then), they’re transporting a giant fake fish. The stakes were non-existent. You’ve got a legendary comedian like Gleason doing slapstick that felt thirty years out of date, even for 1983.
The Missing Star and the $1 Million Cameo
Everyone asks: where was Burt?
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By 1983, Burt Reynolds was the biggest star in the world, but he was also starting to distance himself from the "good ol' boy" roles that made him famous. He reportedly didn't want anything to do with a third film. He eventually agreed to a tiny cameo—a dream sequence where he appears to Buford T. Justice.
Legend has it he was paid $1 million for what amounted to about 30 seconds of screen time.
That cameo is bittersweet. It reminds the audience of what they’re missing. When Burt appears on screen, even for a second, the energy shifts. Then he vanishes, and you’re back to watching a car jump through a billboard for the tenth time. It’s a tough sit.
A Technical Mess: The Production Value Drop
Compare the cinematography of the 1977 original to this one. The first film, directed by Hal Needham, was a masterclass in stunt coordination. It felt gritty and fast.
Smokey and the Bandit Part 3 feels like a television movie.
- The editing is choppy (likely due to the "Smokey is the Bandit" reshoots).
- The stunts feel recycled.
- The music—once the heart of the franchise—feels like a parody of itself.
Director Dick Lowry did what he could, but he was dealt a losing hand. You can’t fix a fundamental identity crisis in the editing room, no matter how many car crashes you throw at the screen. The film ended up grossing only about $7 million. Compare that to the original's $126 million (in 1977 dollars!). It was a massive failure that effectively killed the franchise for decades.
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The Cult of the Weird
Despite its reputation as a "career killer," the movie has developed a weird cult following. There’s something fascinating about watching a studio meltdown in real-time.
Fans of "bad" cinema love it for the absurdity. The scene with the "Enos" brothers appearing as various characters (like the KKK or exhibitionists) is so bizarre it borders on surrealism. It’s not "good" filmmaking, but it’s certainly memorable.
Also, we have to give credit to Jackie Gleason. Even in a script this bad, he’s trying. He’s sweating, he’s screaming, and he’s committed to the bit. He knew the movie was a wreck, but he didn't phone it in. That’s professionalism.
Setting the Record Straight on the "Lost" Version
For years, the "Smokey is the Bandit" version was considered a myth. Then, low-quality production stills and even some test footage started leaking online. You can actually see Gleason in the Bandit outfit. It’s haunting.
There has been a vocal minority of film historians asking for a "Snyder Cut" style release of the original version. Unfortunately, most of that footage is buried or destroyed. It remains one of the great "what ifs" of '80s comedy. Would a movie with two Jackie Gleasons have been better? Maybe not. But it would have been more interesting than the diluted version we got.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Collectors
If you're looking to revisit this era of car-culture cinema, don't just stop at the third movie. Here is how to actually enjoy the legacy of the Bandit:
- Watch the "Smokey is the Bandit" Teaser: You can find the original teaser trailer online that still features the "Smokey is the Bandit" title. It’s a trip to see how they tried to market it before the panic set in.
- Skip the TV Edits: The theatrical version is already censored enough. If you want the full "Gleason" experience, make sure you're watching an uncut version, as the TV edits remove some of the only funny improvised insults he throws at Junior.
- Check out 'The Cannonball Run': If you want the real "Bandit" energy without the Bandit name, this is where Burt Reynolds and Hal Needham went next. It’s arguably the spiritual successor that Part 3 failed to be.
- Look for the Easter Eggs: During the final chase in Part 3, keep an eye out for reused footage from the first two films. It’s a fun, albeit depressing, game to play.
The reality is that Smokey and the Bandit Part 3 is a cautionary tale about franchise fatigue and studio interference. It’s a movie that didn't know what it wanted to be, so it ended up being nothing to everyone. But as a piece of Hollywood trivia? It's gold.