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In a related 1970s subgenre, the 'vigilante revenge film,' populist heroes took the law into their own hands to fight against crime, corruption, and authoritarian bureaucracy, often from a rightist perspective. Typically, the protagonist was a decent man who had been wronged but cannot receive justice under law and is forced to seek redress by violating it. Billy Jack (Warners, 1971; re-released by Taylor-Laughlin, 1973) was the model for this type of film, and its basic strategy was that a vicious attack upon the hero's loved one(s) catalyzed his general sense of abuse and pushed him to seek violent retribution. 53 (Like Howard Beale in Network [United Artists; Sidney Lumet, 1976], he's 'mad as hell and not going to take it anymore. Jelly Bean Game Diversity Meaning. ' ) Billy Jack earned $32. Johnny Juliano Beat Vault Instrumentals With Hooks more. 5 million through its re-release and generated two successful sequels from Warners—The Trial of Billy Jack (Tom Laughlin, 1974), which indicts the criminal justice system and blames Nixon personally for Watergate; and Billy Jack Goes to Washington (Tom Laughlin, 1977), a virtual remake of Frank Capra's depression-era classic Mr.

Smith Goes to Washington (1939). It also inspired the AIP/CRC release Walking Tall (Phil Karlson, 1973), an ultraviolent exploitation film based on the true story of Buford Pusser (played by Joe Don Baker), the club-wielding rural sheriff who had single-handedly cleaned up the vice-ridden town of Selma, Tennessee, after thugs murdered his wife. Opening slowly on the regional drivein circuit, this brutal endorsement of vigilantism became the sleeper of the year when it went into national release and returned $10 million in rentals against its tiny budget by attracting significant urban crossover.

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At the same time that Photoplay readers of 1973 voted Walking Tall their 'Favorite Motion Picture of the Year,' New York critics like Vincent Canby and Andrew Sarris were praising its 'accomplished artistry.' 54 Two AIP-distributed theatrical sequels—Walking Tall, Part 2 (Earl Bellamy, 1975) and Walking Tall—The Final Chapter (Jack Starrett, 1977), both nearly as popular as the original—continued the story through Pusser's death in a suspicious car accident in 1974. And a 1978 CBS-TV movie based on his career, 'A Real American Hero' (Lou Antonio, 12/9/78), became the pilot for a brief series. The Walking Tall franchise inspired many imitations in the exploitation field and was itself a prime example of a general re-mythologizing of the country—particularly the rural South—in American popular culture during the 1970s. Stimulated by the decline of the nation's central cities and the rise of a 'rust-belt' in the urban North, as well as by an economic boom in southern-rim states like Florida and Texas, this new mythos reflected the region's very real transformation in the wake of the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s. It was manifest materially in the national popularity of country-and-western music, CB (Citizens Band) radios, and movies with working-class rural or 'redneck' heroes. By mid-decade, Southern-based car-chase movies (The Last American Hero [Lamont Johnson, 1973], Eat My Dust!

[Charles Griffith, 1976], Smokey and the Bandit [Hal Needham, 1977]); trucker movies (White Line Fever [Jonathan Kaplan, 1975], Breaker! [Don Hulette, 1977], Convoy [Sam Peckinpah, 1978]); romantic melodramas (Buster and Billy [Daniel Petrie, 1974], Ode to Billy Joe [Max Baer, 1976]); horror films (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre [Tobe Hooper, 1974], The Hills Have Eyes [Wes Craven, 1977]); and crime thrillers (Macon County Line [Richard Compton, 1974], Jackson County Jail [Michael Miller, 1976], Gator [Burt Reynolds, 1976]) were booming as newly created state film commissions helped to make location shooting in 'the new South' an economically attractive alternative to filming on location elsewhere. 55 The boom had extended to television by the late 1970s, where the rural South figured prominently in such series as The Dukes of Hazzard (CBS, 1979-1985), B. And the Bear (NBC, 1979-1981), and The Misadventures of Sheriff Lobo (NBC, 1979-1980).

But it was in the vigilante revenge subgenre that the South figured most prominently during the 1970s, perhaps because, 'new' or not, it had always registered statistically as the most violent part of the country. Yet, for all of this free-floating paranoia, films of mystery and detection were parodied throughout the decade, beginning with Fox's Sleuth (Joseph Mankiewicz, 1972), adapted by Anthony Shaffer from his own play, and two Agatha Christie adaptations from Paramount that border on parody—Murder on the Orient Express (Sidney Lumet, 1974) and its follow-up Death on the Nile (John Guillermin, 1978). It was also during the 1970s that two Blake Edwards films (The Pink Panther [1964] and Shot in the Dark [1964], produced by the Mirisch Company for United Artists), starring Peter Sellers as the bumbling French detective Inspector Clouseau, became part of a series. The appearance of three new entries, all produced and directed by Edwards for United Artists—The Return of the Pink Panther (1975), The Pink Panther Strikes Again (1976), and The Revenge of the Pink Panther (1978)—created a brief franchise for visual slapstick long after its mainstream demise. Neil Simon spoofed the 'locked room' subgenre of detective fiction in Columbia's popular Murder by Death (Robert Moore, 1976)—which brings five of the world's greatest detectives together under one roof, and it was followed, in true seventies fashion, by an inferior sequel: The Cheap Detective (Robert Moore, 1978), in which the Sam Spade (Humphrey Bogart) character from Murder by Death is run through a Maltese Falcon parody.

In fact, Bogart and The Maltese Falcon (John Huston, 1941) became parodic icons for the 1970s, beginning with Paramount's Play It Again, Sam (Herbert Ross, 1972; adapted by Woody Allen from his own play), in which Bogart's ghost rises from the frames of Casablanca (Michael Curtiz, 1942) to instruct the protagonist on life and love. The Black Bird (David Giler, 1975) was a Maltese Falcon parody/sequel/remake where Sam Spade, Jr. Pursues the valuable statue mislaid by his dad, with Lee Patrick and Elisha Cook, Jr. Reprising their original roles. Parody of the hard-boiled school punctuated the decade's end with Fox's The Man With Bogart's Face (aka Sam Marlowe, Private Eye [Robert Day, 1980]), in which a contemporary detective has plastic surgery to give him the face of his idol and becomes involved in a Maltese Falcon-type case, replete with references to classical personalities and stars. The master of classical genre parody during the 1970s, however, was Mel Brooks, and his Hitchcock spoof High Anxiety (Fox, 1977) is a locus classicus of the type. Simultaneously a tribute and a send-up, Brooks's film contains legible quotations from Spellbound (Alfred Hitchcock, 1945), Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958), Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960), and The Birds 1963), as well as some purely stylistic allusions that incarnate the decade's dual (and somewhat schizoid) impulse toward cynical nose-thumbing and reverent nostalgia.

Related to these mystery spoofs were 'buddy caper' films, a comic variation of the criminal couple subgenre—usually focusing on the relations between two men—that became extremely popular during the 1970s. Some took the form of heist films like Columbia's $ (Dollars) (Richard Brooks, 1971) and Fox's The Hot Rock (Peter Yates, 1972), whose high-water mark was the blockbuster success of Universal's period caper The Sting (George Roy Hill, 1973), which returned $78.2 million in rentals to become the second highest grossing film of the year. Most of those theaters were equipped to play optical prints only (in which the sound track is printed as a small strip to the left of the picture for reading by a photoelectric cell in projection), and therefore did not have access to the superior quality of pre-Dolby magnetic stereo. There were two magnetic stereo systems available to theaters before Dolby—the four-track CinemaScope system for 35mm introduced by Fox in The Robe (Henry Koster, 1953), and the six-track Todd-AO system for 70mm film introduced in Around the World in Eighty Days (Michael Anderson, 1956), both of which placed their separate magnetic tracks directly on the theatrical print outside of the picture frame. 72 Although magnetic prints offered the highest possible quality of sound reproduction, they cost about twice as much to produce as optical prints (in the mid-1970s, $1,200 vs. $800) and degraded faster (the longevity of an optical sound track was approximately that of the image track). 73 Exhibitors had to make expensive adjustments to projection equipment in order to play magnetic prints, and distributors had to supply theaters with both formats.

Before 1977, therefore, the American industry was geared to the production of monophonic films, with stereo magnetic sound reserved for 70mm road shows and other special events. For this reason, the majority of American and European theaters chose not to support magnetic stereo playback, and until 1977 provided their patrons mainly with undistinguished and limited monophonic sound. Cabaret, for example, winner of multiple Oscars for its music and sound, was never exhibited in stereo, although a stereo premix was used by the producers of its best-selling sound-track LP; 74 and Jaws, which won the 1975 Academy Awards for Best Original Score and Best Sound, was recorded and released completely in monaural. The Dolby noise reduction system, which electronically reduces background noise and increases frequency response, was developed by Ray Dolby at Dolby Laboratories during the late 1960s for use in the recording industry (where, among other things, it helped to innovate stereo cassette recording). It entered the film industry in 1971, when it was used by Stanley Kubrick in the mixing stages of A Clockwork Orange (1971), although the film itself was released with a conventional—if aesthetically brilliant—monaural sound track.

Dolby noise reduction was subsequently applied to several musicals, where it was used for both monaural optical (Steppenwolf [Fred Haines, 1974]; Stardust [Michael Apted, 1974]) and stereo magnetic sound tracks (The Little Prince [Stanley Donen, 1974]; Nashville [Robert Altman, 1975]) in both recording and theater play-back. Beginning in 1973, however, Eastman Kodak and RCA worked with Dolby to develop a simple two-track stereo optical system that would first be used in the musicals Tommy (Ken Russell, 1975), Lisztomania and A Star Is Born (Frank R.

Pierson, 1976). 75 In the 1970s, most 35mm theaters deployed three speakers—the left, right, and center—behind the screen. 76 The Dolby stereo optical system reproduced the two basic tracks through the left and right speakers and sent a phased signal through the center channel synthesized from the differences between the left and right tracks, making high-fidelity stereo possible for a relatively modest conversion cost to theaters of about $5,000. 77 It cost about $25,000 more to dub a film in Dolby stereo than in monaural, and the conversion of an existing film-mixing studio to Dolby cost around $40,000, but these were modest sums relative to then-average production costs of $5 million per picture.

When Star Wars (1977) was both recorded in a four-channel mix (left, right, center, and surround) and released in Dolby stereo optical for either two or four channel playback, it produced a revolution in theater sound that very quickly caused a large-scale conversion to the system.