
After The Beverly Hillbillies went off the air, Max Baer Jr. couldn’t find work, so we wrote and produced his own vehicle in the Southern-fried scare tale Macon County Line. The Hail Mary pass worked and, by gum, Jethro, you done made yourself a fine picture show!
Supposedly based on a true story from the early 1950s, the AIP hit follows the bad-boy Dixon brothers (real-life siblings Jesse and Alan Vint) as they drive oft-shirtless through the Deep South, up to no good. We first meet them as one is screwing someone’s old lady for six bucks, then watch as they ditch a diner check, pick up a free-spirited girl (Cheryl Waters) headed for Dallas, and have to spend some downtime in the titular Georgia site when their car suffers some mechanical failures. They’ll be lucky to leave alive.
For the first two-thirds, the film plays like a redneck quasi-comedy that might be titled The Felonious Misadventures of Cooter and Banjo. Then it takes a sharp right turn into thriller-ville as the town’s racist sheriff (Baer) gets mighty pissed when his wife is raped and murdered, and goes after the Dixons, even though they had nothing to do with it.
As the unapologetically flawed man of the law, Baer gives a great performance, as does lil’ Leif Garrett as his son, not to mention the brothers Vint. Enjoy that acting while the plot seemingly meanders, because admittedly, it takes a while before anything of significance happens. Once it does, however, it makes for some memorable, tension-filled moments that are hard to shake. —Rod Lott


This includes demonstrating a prototype of the “future leisure suit,” which contains an inflatable, phallic appendage containing a screen on which corporate heads can monitor their workforce remotely. This outfit and accompanying suggestion that slavery was a good thing aren’t questioned by anyone. At least a classroom of collegians is sharp enough to turn on a supposed WTO/McDonald’s partnership presentation in which Americans’ feces would be piped to Third World countries and recycled into “reBurgers.” 
Recall, if you will, how difficult it was to sit through a 

Being someone who hasn’t played video games regularly since the heyday of the Atari 2600, I have zero to little knowledge of the
In other words, TBV3D — as its fan base would call it, if the film were good enough to merit one — is less a futuristic fighting action piece and more just a piece. Of poop, that is. I suppose that’s okay if you’re expecting a giggly rom-com set in the halls of a learning institution. But then it should be titled Tekken: Giggle School 3D, no?