The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (1982)

Best movie of this year hands down!

How sad is this?

After playing with our expectations, this turns out to be a very different sort of film.

I enjoyed watching this film and would recommend other to give it a try , (as I am) but this movie, although enjoyable to watch due to the better than average acting fails to add anything new to its storyline that is all too familiar to these types of movies.

There is a commitment to authenticity in film production of "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas." The people are fictional, in that no real-life sheriffs or governors or madams are depicted, but the movie is unafraid to use the names and likenesses of real, powerful Texas institutions to fill out the whorehouse clientele portion of its cast. Early on, Jim Nabors's goofball deputy explains one of the key plot points: the winning team of each year's famed football match between Texas A&M University and the University of Texas gets a free night at the Chicken Ranch, a house of ill repute west of Houston. To allege such a thing in a movie today would be impossible: the lawsuits would be swift and many. But here, it isn't just alleged—it's depicted in vivid detail and with the flamboyant abandon of a great movie musical. The sequence begins on the gridiron, with the trademarked logos of A&M and UT on proud display, and transitions to the victorious Aggies' locker room where the men do a gleeful choreographed routine and strip down to their bare asses right underneath the "Gig 'Em Aggies" sign. Soon enough they're at the Chicken Ranch, where a Senator looks on approvingly as the team and the employees dance and carry on in various states of undress. It's a very funny string of scenes, and it wouldn't have the same sense of stakes or impropriety if instead of the Aggies the team was some made-up, generic stand-in; in Texas, there is no stand-in for A&M. One wonders how the large and powerful Aggie alumni community feels about this film. The movie walks a delicate line regarding the morality of its subject matter. It satirizes politicians (Charles Durning shows himself to be a physical comedy genius in his single, show-stealing number) and condemns "gotcha" journalism (Dom DeLuise's TV investigator dandy even uses that exclamation), and these are easy targets, but its discussion of the whorehouse itself is confined to a limited set of debate parameters. The perspective of the whores themselves is mostly missing, as is the criticism of prostitution as a kind of slavery. In its place is the less troubling contest between the support of safer, legalized, pimp-free prostitution and the old-fashioned condemnation of it on religious grounds. Most modern theater- and film-goers take the former view when those are the only two options, and the movie does so as well with a compelling and well-meaning righteousness. What it lacks in nuance on the subject of paid sex, it makes up for with really touching character moments between Burt Reynolds's duded-up sheriff and Dolly Parton's dolled- up proprietress. Their relationship is kept on impressively equal footing, and it feels as real and lived-in as the footage of the Texas capitol, the small-town courthouse square, and the Texas A&M stadium.

When I read the opening paragraph from Lechuguilla's review, I thought "That's exactly what I was thinking!" It reads (abridged): "Maybe when it was first released, this film... wowed viewers with its bawdiness and clear-cut clash of values. But thirty years later, with the internet, cell phones, and gay rights, the underlying premise... strikes me as outdated and largely irrelevant..." In my opinion, I think the film was as successful as it was only because it "dared" to broach a subject that was, at the time, considered titillating, immoral and slightly naughty. People could feel like they were indulging in a bit of raunchy voyeurism that skirted the limits of acceptable morality. It bordered on slightly wicked, yet allowed one to keep one's social (and self-righteous) moral virtue and rectitude intact.Now, 30-plus years later, the film is dated by any standard. It was a vehicle for Parton (who does a passable job as Miss Mona)and Reynolds (who is miscast and mediocre at best), a toss-away attempt at cashing in on an excellent and popular stage production at the time.Viewed as a quaint example of 1980s entertainment, it's moderately successful even now. But there isn't enough enduring substance to hold up over time.If it were re-made today, I think it could probably succeed if the emphasis on titillation and sex was refocused on the relationships between the main characters and the struggle over the morality of the times.But as it stands, it has become an archaic and somewhat droll museum piece.

5.3? The problem, I suspect, with this movie is that the wrong people are watching it, and the right aren't.Let's see, who does this movie offend? Christian fundamentalists, politicians and Texans. I don't know how many of the former are watching it and then rating it (perhaps they just rate first, watch later), but it looks like some Texans don't have a sense of humor.And then there are Burt Reynolds fans who might be shocked to find this is not a typical Burt Reynolds movie, and hate it. But folks who aren't Burt Reynolds fans will probably enjoy it. Reynolds' excellent acting is natural, understated, and properly nuanced to the scenes. I think Reynolds and Parton are very well cast together and have real chemistry.As to Dolly Parton, who knows? All I know is you don't have to be a Dolly Parton country music fan to love this movie. My estimation of Ms. Parton went up enormously after first seeing this movie. She is one smart lady and a fine actress.So, to add it up, if you are not from Texas, not a Bible-thumper, not a politician, not a Burt Reynolds fan and not a Dolly Parton fan, you should definitely watch The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.Oh, and folks expecting porn are going to be disappointed, though there is the briefest of cameos by none other than Kay Parker, dressed. Don't blink. Too bad she didn't get a speaking part. This lady can actually act! I saw her reciting Shakespeare, for some reason I can't recall, in one of her movies, and she was real good.Watch this movie because it is laugh out loud funny. You need to watch closely at the details because the scenes are beautifully crafted. Watch the one of Dom DeLuise getting dressed in front of Reynolds before going on air. It is hilarious, especially the sock. But the most memorable scene is of "Governor" Charles Durning doing his "Sidestep" number. It is a masterpiece.It is easy to forget this is a musical, perhaps because the storyline is so strong it could survive as a movie without music. But a musical it is, in the tradition of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and Oklahoma! with its masculine cowboy acrobatics dancing, though with an 80s twist, given the locker room dance number.Thats what makes this movie great: It takes the concept of the musical comedy and brings it out of the Fifties and into the Eighties in a way that is still relevant and pretty outrageous today because of its swipe at hypocrisy. Did I say swipe? Perhaps dagger thrust or kick in the face to hypocrisy would be more accurate. In this regard, The Best Little Whorehouse is hardly subtle.So perhaps I should add to the list of people who will not like this movie, hypocrites. For them, there is "Hello, Dolly!"

Movie-version of the popular stage success (which derived from a factual article in Playboy magazine) about how a Texas bordello was brought down by a crusading TV newsman (in reality, a journalist fighting organized crime, in the film a hypocritical advocate for decency). With Burt Reynolds cast as the local sheriff and madam Dolly Parton as his unspoken lady-love, this seemed to have the right ingredients for a big, raucous musical hit. Alas, there's not an assured, well-directed sequence in the entire picture. Worse, Reynolds is on auto-pilot throughout, easily allowing supporting character players Dom DeLuise, Charles Durning, and even Jim Nabors to show him up something fierce. What's good about this "Whorehouse" is Dolly Parton who, despite not having the training or experience of a skilled comedic actress, brings to the project her sassy personality (which nearly makes the film worth-watching); her honeyed charms, white wigs and frilly outfits not only accentuate her famous curves, they give her (and the film) a welcoming spirit. The script is curiously heavy with dialogue, and one scene outdoors--wherein Burt and Dolly discuss aliens, the Bible, and Dolly's girlhood dreams--seems to ramble on forever. This wouldn't be so noticeable if the musical sequences brought life back into the piece, but each number is rendered flat by the editing, which doesn't allow the film any visual pizazz. Parton is bouncy all on her own, though none of the working girls have the personality Dolly does (the script doesn't give them a chance to be anything but proud prosties, eager to do their thing). The naughty humor is nudging and winking rather than smirking (which is good), and there are some big laughs: DeLuise doing some fancy footwork while on the air, Durning (as the Governor) dancing the "Sidestep", and Jim Nabors saying "sh*t" and "son of a b*tch". The leads don't really get their share of the jokes, and Parton always seems to be playing ringleader (with too many big entrances coming down the stairs). The sentiment at the ending turns the film into a love story (the stage show was a fired-up satire) and Parton's "I Will Always Love You" comes out of nowhere (she sings it to Reynolds, who doesn't hear a word she says!). The movie is a messy jumble of half-assed attempts at comedy, drama, heartbreak, old-fashioned musical (with garters), but hardly any commentary on the situation. Yes, the bordello was a civic-minded, conscientious, tax-paying establishment which did an awful lot for the community, but if prostitution is illegal than they are also law-breakers. There are no songs about that. ** from ****