The Unlikely Redemption of a Hollywood Misfit: Revisiting Burt Reynolds’ *Stick*
There’s something oddly captivating about movies that shouldn’t work but somehow do. Stick, Burt Reynolds’ 1985 thriller, is one of those films. On paper, it’s a mess—a movie reshot to the point of incoherence, starring a leading man whose career was crumbling in real time. Yet, against all odds, it’s a fascinating artifact of Hollywood’s chaos. Personally, I think what makes Stick so intriguing isn’t its plot or even its action sequences, but the way it mirrors Reynolds’ own life at the time: a star trying to hold it together while everything falls apart.
A Star’s Fall and a Film’s Transformation
When Reynolds signed on to direct and star in Stick, he was still a box office titan. Fresh off hits like The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas and Sharky’s Machine, he seemed unstoppable. But by the time Stick hit theaters, his career was in free fall. What many people don’t realize is that this decline wasn’t just about bad movie choices—it was a perfect storm of personal tragedy and industry indifference.
The reshoots of Stick are infamous, but what’s often overlooked is the human story behind them. Reynolds’ jaw-shattering injury on the set of City Heat wasn’t just a physical setback; it was a metaphor for his career. The man who once exuded effortless charm and strength was now frail, his face a map of pain. If you take a step back and think about it, the reshoots weren’t just about fixing a movie—they were about salvaging a star’s image.
The Reshoots: A Disaster or a Happy Accident?
Here’s where things get interesting. The reshoots, forced by Universal to turn a character-driven drama into an action flick, are blatantly obvious. Reynolds’ weight loss is jarring, his once-muscular frame now skeletal. Yet, in my opinion, this physical transformation works in the film’s favor. His frailty adds a layer of vulnerability to the character that wasn’t there before. When he struggles to wield a machine gun in the finale, it’s not just bad acting—it’s a man pushing himself beyond his limits.
What this really suggests is that sometimes, the most compelling art comes from chaos. The studio’s meddling, Reynolds’ pain, and the mismatched footage all combine to create something uniquely raw. It’s not a great movie, but it’s a real one.
The Original Cut: A Missed Opportunity or a Bullet Dodged?
The leaked ‘Reynolds Cut’ of Stick is a curious artifact. It’s slower, more character-focused, and frankly, a bit dull. In my opinion, Universal was right to demand changes—though their execution was brutal. The original version feels out of step with the era, a Miami-set crime drama that ignores the cocaine-fueled energy of Miami Vice.
One thing that immediately stands out is how the reshoots, for all their flaws, give the film a pulse. The Jai Alai brawl, the gunfight finale—these sequences aren’t just action for action’s sake. They’re a desperate attempt to save a sinking ship, and there’s a strange beauty in that.
A Cult Classic Born of Failure
Stick bombed at the box office, but it’s gained a cult following over the years. Why? Because it’s a time capsule of an era when stars like Reynolds were larger than life—and their falls were just as dramatic. From my perspective, the film’s appeal lies in its imperfections. George Segal’s over-the-top performance, the legendary Dar Robinson’s death-defying stunt, and that synth-heavy score all add up to something uniquely 80s.
What many people don’t realize is that Stick isn’t just a bad movie that got lucky. It’s a testament to Reynolds’ resilience. Even as his career spiraled, he gave it his all. That’s what makes it worth revisiting—not as a cautionary tale, but as a reminder that even in failure, there’s humanity.
Final Thoughts: The Beauty of Hollywood’s Messes
If you take a step back and think about it, Stick is the kind of movie that could only exist in Hollywood. It’s a product of egos, accidents, and desperation. But that’s what makes it fascinating. In a world of polished blockbusters, Stick is a relic of a messier, more unpredictable time.
Personally, I think we need more movies like this—films that wear their flaws on their sleeves. Because, in the end, it’s not perfection that makes art memorable. It’s the struggle, the chaos, and the humanity behind it. And Stick has that in spades.
