Forgotten Burt Reynolds thriller that was almost a different movie
In the world of Hollywood, where creative visions often bow to studio demands, it is not uncommon for a film to undergo a radical transformation after production wraps. Directors are sometimes hired to remake projects from scratch, and other times, talent must simply accept changes dictated by powerful executives. But few examples illustrate this dynamic as starkly as the fate of 1985’s Stick, the film starring Burt Reynolds.
The story of Stick is more than just a movie; it’s a fascinating study in creative compromise and physical suffering. Based on the novel by Elmore Leonard, the film began as a gritty crime drama about an ex-con car thief nursing a grudge against a drug dealer.
When production began, Reynolds was riding incredibly high. He had recently enjoyed massive box office success with films like Best Friends and The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, making him a world-class star. The project was supposed to be a spiritual successor to his earlier work, aiming for a more grounded crime flick.
Reynolds assembled an intriguing cast of friends and rivals, including Charles Durning playing the drug-dealing villain Chucky, Candice Bergen as a crooked lawyer, and Reynolds’ former rival, George Segal, as the eccentric producer. However, the path to completion was fraught with setbacks.
As Reynolds faced professional disappointments in the year leading up to filming—suffering major box office flops—Universal Pictures nonetheless trusted him enough to make Stick his way. Principal photography proceeded, but just when things seemed stable, disaster struck on the next set.
During a fight scene, Reynolds was accidentally struck in the face with a real metal chair, shattering his jaw. This incident initiated a painful physical decline. Restricted to a liquid diet, he rapidly lost over 30 pounds. Even after the bone healed, he suffered from chronic pain and developed TMJ, a poorly understood disorder that left him in agonizing pain.
While Reynolds was struggling privately, his career faced further blows with other projects failing to connect. When the finished cut of Stick finally reached Universal, executives were unimpressed. They found the drama slow and demanded an action movie makeover.
The result was extensive reshoots that fundamentally altered the film. The original vision, where Stick was non-violent, was tossed aside. Chucky was recast as a mere front-man for a cartel boss, and the narrative was aggressively ramped up with new sequences—including intense gunfights and a brawl in a Jai Alai arena.
What makes the final film so compelling is how blatantly obvious the changes are. Because Reynolds had become physically frail and emaciated during the shoots, his appearance in the new action sequences provided an immediate, potent narrative edge. The physical struggle of the character against the villains now felt intensely real.
The visual irony is striking: where the original footage showed a buff Reynolds flexing his muscles, the reshot scenes featured him looking gaunt and spent, his clothes hanging off an emaciated frame. This physical frailty lent unexpected gravitas to the film, making moments of action—such as Stick firing a machine gun—feel earned.
Interestingly, these revised sequences ultimately held up well. Even though Reynolds later admitted he was simply going through the motions while in pain, he delivered his best stunt work. The resulting thriller, backed by a moody Miami Vice-esque score, manages to fuse gritty crime elements with kinetic action.
Despite its troubled production and box office reality—the film ultimately grossed only $8 million—Stick remains a fascinating artifact. It is not the perfect piece of cinema, but it stands as one of the few Burt Reynolds movies that endures, capturing a distinct era and set-pieces that still resonate today.