Originally titled Polk County Pot Plane and based upon an odd true-crime story about Southerners who used a DC-4 to smuggle weed, this mindless mélange of rampaging redneckery feels like something a bunch of good-ole-boy buddies made for laughs on weekends. Although the picture has decent production values, as seen in lengthy car chase scenes punctuated with extensive property destruction, the cast comprises hapless non-actors and the storyline is feeble. It’s also worth noting that the picture’s leading characters, played by real-life brothers Bobby and Don Watson, are named “Boosh” and “Oosh.” When combined with the fact that most of the characters in the picture don’t even have proper names, you get a fair idea of the effort that was expended on filling the film with fresh ideas. The gist of the piece is that Boosh and Oosh run dope for mobsters who pay to operate the DC-4. When Boosh and Oosh get busted after the noisy chase sequence that opens the picture, the amiable criminals become pawns in a power struggle involving mobsters and other smugglers. Yet this set-up is merely a thin excuse allowing the filmmakers to generate vignettes of, say, an 18-wheeler blasting its way through a mobile home and causing an explosion of glass and lumber. With their jeans, T-shirts, beards and unruly hair, the Watson brothers look as if they should be roadies for the Marshall Tucker Band, while the folks playing cops and criminals seem like neighbors and relatives of the filmmakers who were persuaded to mug inertly while cameras rolled. About the only performer who registers as having a discernible personality is the fellow playing the unnamed DC-4 pilot, because he gets to utter such choice lines as, “I’m gonna get down to the meat of the coconut.” (Translation: “Let me get to the point.”) Adding to the overall sloppiness of the movie is a chaotic score that includes everything from rinky-dink piano music straight out of the silent-film era to rumbling Southern-fried funk that lays delicate flute melodies over chunky R&B grooves.
In Hot Pursuit: LAME