Just before former Miss World USA Lynda Carter became famous as 
            Wonder Woman, she was experiencing a lull in her career that led to 
            her participation in this cheapo exploitation flick from American 
            International Pictures, the masters of quickie drive-in flicks. 
            (This film was actually released after she began the Wonder Woman 
            series!) Like porno films, the AIP B-movies tried to capitalize on 
            genres and themes that were hot at the time, and in the era of this 
            particular film that meant good ol' boys in souped-up cars in the 
            style of Burt Reynolds. Reynolds had first scored country paydirt as 
            Gator McKlusky in White Lightning (1973), and was busy making a 
            sequel to that film (Gator, 1976) while AIP was trying to create its 
            own country outlaw in the form of preacher-turned-actor Marjoe 
            Gortner. 
           
           
            AIP got the lead character's rebellious attitude right, but they 
            kinda took the "outlaw" concept to an extreme level. While the bad 
            boy characters of Burt Reynolds would occasionally screw up some 
            police cars in high-speed chases, thus causing some bumbling 
            deputies to end up with their arms in slings, Marjoe's character 
            basically went on a robbery and murder spree that would culminate 
            with his death in a hail of bullets, ala Bonnie and Clyde. That 
            Beatty/Dunaway classic is not the only good film which receives a 
            ... er ... homage ... here. If you enjoyed Deliverance (another Burt 
            Reynolds movie), you won't want to miss this film's bloody 
            recreation of the famous "squeal like a pig" sequence. Despite the 
            intense violence, the script and Marjoe's laid-back performance 
            continue to represent the lead character as a likeable fun-lovin' 
            country boy outsmarting the bumbling local sheriff, as if his 
            homicides were just some more wacky pranks from the Duke boys. 
           
           
            Some elements of this film are almost surreal. Forget the "almost." 
            They are surreal. Some examples:
           
           
            Marjoe is stalking a sexy waitress (Carter) when he falls asleep in 
            his stolen car while parked on her block. When he  wakes, she's in 
            the passenger seat, telling him to drive anywhere. They head out to 
            the desert, where they are hiking through the ruins of an old Native 
            American village when Carter suddenly produces a guitar and starts 
            singing.
           
           
            They are trapped inside a trailer when the cops find their stolen 
            Mustang out by the mailbox. So how do they get away? Nothing to it. 
            They make their escape in another car and a school bus which 
            materialize from nowhere.
           
           
            They plan to rob a local bank, but Marjoe says "we need more 
            firepower." In the next scene, Marjoe and his sidekick are teaching 
            Lynda and her sister how to shoot M-16s. In the next scene, they are 
            holding up a gun shop. How did they get assault rifles before the 
            robbery? And why did they need more guns if they already had 
            high-powered automatic combat weapons? Maybe the editor got the 
            sequencing of the scenes wrong, but I don't think so, because Lynda 
            Carter used the combat rifle to provide cover for the gun shop 
            robbery, so she must have had it before that robbery took place. The 
            most likely explanation is that the production team was rewriting 
            the film on the fly, filming scenes out of sequence, and getting 
            confused on the details. My bet is that the editor had to piece 
            footage together as coherently as possible. At any rate, there's no 
            possible explanation for their having come up with M-16s between "we 
            need more firepower" and the gun shop robbery, given that the script 
            stresses how broke they were, and there's no justification for 
            robbing the gun shop if they already had the weapons they needed to 
            rob the bank!
           
           
            The bumbling, sweaty local sheriff from Noplace, New Mexico keeps 
            pursuing Lynda and Marjoe throughout Texas, with neither assistance 
            nor interference from local law enforcement officers. The film makes 
            this one small-town sheriff seem to be the only law west of the 
            Pecos, like Judge Roy Bean.
           
           
            While the outlaw gang is hiding out in the desert, one of them says 
            something like, "We're gonna die unless we can high-tail it to Old 
            Mexico before them pigs catch up with us." His girlfriend responds, 
            "Yeah, I could sure use a taco right about now."
           
           
            By the way, you might have noted the similarity in the titles 
            "Smokey and the Bandit" and "Bobbie Jo and the Outlaw," but you'd be 
            wrong to assume that AIP was ripping off the big studio film. Bobbie 
            Jo actually came out a year before Smokey, so AIP was actually on 
            the cutting edge of the trend which would soon rule both big screens 
            and small in the late 70s, when Reynolds would have a big hit with 
            Smokey and the Bandit, and The Dukes of Hazzard would begin a long 
            TV run. Of course, AIP didn't have a lot of money in their budgets, 
            so this film is punctuated with exactly one country song which is 
            repeated again and again. There is another musical number, but its a 
            lame pseudo-country ballad written especially for the film and sung 
            by Wonder Woman, accompanied by her ownself strumming some simple 
            guitar chords. She's not a bad singer, but has a voice more suited 
            to cabaret torch reviews than to the Grand Ole Opry.
           
           
            Apart from the budget problems, the repetitive score, the bizarre 
            lack of continuity, and the fact that every character is a 
            stereotype, the film also managed to haul out every imaginable 
            cliché in the 1970s film playbook: a grizzled Native American takes 
            the outlaw gang on an acid trip in the desert; the outlaws stay at a 
            New Mexico commune in the hand-built home of a hippie friend; the 
            cops rough up and insult the hippie; the outlaws hide out and rest 
            in the barn of an old farm couple and insist on paying them; ...
           
           
            Enough.
           
           
            You get the idea.
           
           
            It's the drive-in era at its pinnacle!