“Mitchell” is Stupid and Wonderful. Also Boring and Mercifully Short.

“Mitchell” is Stupid and Wonderful. Also Boring and Mercifully Short.





The erotic highlight of “Mitchell” — Linda Evans’ back (above left); Mitchell drinks Schlitz while sitting on a couch (top right) that matches his sport coat (below right).

If you’ve never seen Andrew McLaglen’s 1975 film “Mitchell,” starring the immortal Joe Don Baker, then you must drop everything and find it. Preferably the version available on one of those “50 Godawful Movies for $7” box sets, which are so badly produced that the titles are too fuzzy to read.

Mitchell is a renegade Los Angeles cop who goes after the bad guys and spends a lot of time getting in and out of cars. He also drives cars and crashes cars. And dune buggies.

He has a magic sport coat that matches his sofa, a fine-looking hooker (Linda Evans) who comes over when the plot needs goosing, and he can hit anyone or anything at any range with any gun.

“Mitchell” is an hommage du fromage, with scenery-chewing performances from John Saxon ( who was always getting in Jim Rockford’s pomaded hair) and Martin Balsam, who must have needed the work.

And there is musical commentary by the great Hoyt Axton, a man who had no peer when it came to rhyming “June” with “spoon.”

A CACA classic.

Three coils, with the automatic one coil deduction for no nekkidity, not even Linda Evans’ butt.




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