EVERY WHICH WAY BUT LOOSE 1978
37%
Directed by James Fargo
Written by Jeremy Joe Kronsberg
Starring Clint Eastwood, Sondra Locke, Geoffrey Lewis, Beverly D’Angelo, Ruth Gordon
Synopsis
Philo Beddoe is a brawler whose best buddy, Clyde, happens to be a mischievous orangutan. When Philo falls for country singer Lynn Halsey-Taylor, he finds he’s gotta fight—with the cops and a buffoonish biker gang—for what he loves.
Why We Love It
Upon its release, Every Which Way but Loose became a sudden hit, the most successful film Clint Eastwood had ever made, and it still holds a spot in the top 250 highest-grossing films of all time (adjusted for inflation). Yet so few critics at the time appreciated the pure joy of watching Eastwood act opposite a charismatic orangutan, with one even wondering if Eastwood was playing a joke on them to see how low he could go. Everyone had told him not to take the part, apparently, but he went ahead with it anyway. After a string of gritty hits like The Gauntlet, The Enforcer, and The Outlaw Josey Wales, the actor was the consummate “man with a gun,” but he had plenty of fun early in his career in more whimsical pictures like Paint Your Wagon and Kelly’s Heroes. Maybe he yearned for a more challenging role or a return to lighter fare. Whatever ultimately drove Eastwood into the arms of an orangutan, it resulted in exceptional fun.
Eastwood’s got comic chops, and it’s partly because he takes his comedy very seriously. Throughout the film, there’s no indication the actor thinks Philo’s deep friendship with a primate is anything but real, which only makes this story that much more bizarre and watchable. This is a future Academy Award winner confessing his deepest secrets to his orangutan. “When it comes to sharing my feelings with a woman, my stomach just turns to royal gelatin,” Philo whispers in the dark to his hairy buddy. It’s genuinely touching.
Also in the film: Ruth Gordon as Ma swats Philo good with a broom, while Sondra Locke—romantic partners with Eastwood at the time—sparkles as a small-time con woman. (Eastwood hadn’t had such dynamic female costars since 1970’s Two Mules for Sister Sarah, in which Shirley MacLaine matched him wit for wit.) Add in a clownish gang of bikers bedecked in Nazi regalia summarily having their asses handed to them again and again, and this is as screwball as you can get, a seeming throwback to 1938’s Bringing Up Baby. Its heart is in the right place.