The time lapse involved between reading the Dan Jenkins book and catching this picture is now closing in on about forty years for me. My best recollection is that the book was hilarious, one of those stories that you don't stop reading until you're done. The difference between this film and the novel are palpable, even after four decades. I didn't get that much of a charge out of the flick.So calling this a football movie would be a misnomer, there's really very little game action in the story. The main idea here was sending up all those self help seminars of the Seventies meant to get one in touch with one's self. I had a college prof once who took a similar approach, asking the class to position themselves (in our desks) in a manner meant to convey how in touch we were with him and the rest of the students. For a liberal school, I couldn't sit far enough away. But we read a lot of R. Crumb - keep on truckin' dude! So with all the 'being where it's at', 'getting it or not getting it', and the whole business about mixed marriages, this flick got a little tedious after a while. Jill Clayburgh was the perfect casting call for the role of Barbara Jane. I've seen her in a few other films and she's got the tedious thing down pretty well pat.Reading some of the other reviews I see the film has it's share of adherents, but if it's a 'real' football movie you want, along with Burt Reynolds, your best bet is to head on over to 1974's "The Longest Yard" or the 2005 remake of the same name - Reynolds is in both.

The world of professional football players (though not necessarily the sport itself) is given a ribbing in this loose adaptation of the popular book of the same name by Dan Jenkins. Reynolds and Kristofferson are players on a fictional Miami team who share an unorthodox relationship (not to mention living arrangement) with the team owner's daughter Clayburgh. It's a sort of platonic threesome, which is thrown off kilter when Clayburgh begins to fall for one of the men. The triangular love story plays out against the sometimes-bizarre backdrop of locker room shenanigans, commercial endorsements, road-trip sexual escapades and, most notably, the world of self-improvement guru Convy, based on a real-life entrepreneur named Werner Erhard, founder of the "est" program. Weighing in with his own thoughts on his daughter's lifestyle and the lifestyles of his players is her bigger-than-life father Preston, he himself deeply involved in various new age systems and treatments. The film starts out promisingly disarming and saucy, with some startling dialogue and some skin-baring locker room shots, followed by an amusing deodorant commercial shoot and some good work by Catlett as a sexually desperate groupie and Lenya as a no-nonsense physical therapist. Eventually, however, the film becomes mired in the not-too-involving aspects of the love story and the then-topical, now tiresome jabs at self-help. Reynolds has appeared in a lot of junk over the years, but is woefully underrated when it comes to his ability to convey subtle emotion through his charm on the screen. He adds immeasurably to this film with his skilled, more thoughtful than may be immediately visible, laid-back performance. He is saddled with a worse coiffure than usual, but rises above that to give a charming, sincere and mostly appealing performance. Kristofferson is less impressive by comparison, but still offers up sufficient appeal for the bulk of his screen time. Clayburgh, an actress who enjoyed several successes during the notably male-dominated 1970's cinema, is solid in all but two ways. Her Texas accent isn't particularly convincing and she seems at bit ill at ease with all the cursing her part requires. Otherwise, her typical offbeat warmth and amiability shine through rather nicely. Preston manages a few showy moments here and there, but isn't utilized as much as he could have been. Convy, in visibly heavy makeup for some reason, has a good handle on his role (and went to a similar seminar in real life in order to prepare.) Lenya has just the one scene and is well cast in her role. Masur is dependably shifty as the team's business manager. Catlett gets a rare chance to show an array of emotions in her role as a pudgy sexual doormat. Other familiar faces include "Magnum P.I.'s" Mosley as a teammate, Weathers as a player on an opposing team, Silver (of all people!) as a non-English-speaking kicker and Dennehy as the team lunkhead (whose first appearance has him running around with his behind showing, wearing a jockstrap on his head!) Game show host and broadcaster McKrell appears briefly as a smarmy publisher. The music of Gene Autry is heavily featured throughout. Oddly, for a film featuring the after hours exploits of a football team, there is almost no female nudity, just one brief, gratuitous topless scene during a mêlée in a church. This became a very short-lived TV series and doubtlessly inspired some of the plot lines on "1st & Ten" as well.

Very much of its time – and not only because it focuses on a number of dippy US 70s fads like est (beat here) – when viewed today Semi-Tough is something of an oddity. Early on, a minor character enquires of Reynold's amiable football-playing jock something about why he plays and his answer (something to do with black men and showers that would probably be enough to get my IMDb account deleted were I to repeat it verbatim) was actually quite shocking. Now I'm not sure whether this is because of its content or because it's a throwaway line spoken by the 'hero' in a mainstream Hollywood movie. I'm not saying thoughtless racial references are to be missed, but it made me quite wistful for a time when people weren't so quick (and seemingly keen) to be offended. It was certainly the only time my interest was piqued.Apparently the film is based (loosely) on a laugh-a-page novel. If that's the case, most of the laughs obviously stayed on the printed page because they definitely didn't make it to onto the screen. I smiled once or twice, but that was it. Jill Clayburgh seems to be completely out of her depth (if the word depth can be applied to a film like this) and there's something a little disturbing about hearing those Anglo-Saxon expletives issuing from her demure features. She certainly doesn't seem the flighty type to inflame the passions of such macho characters as Reynolds and Kristofferson.Kristofferson is outshone in every department by good-ol'-boy Burt, which is a pretty damning statement when you think about it. There just doesn't seem to be any vitality about the man, and he mostly drifts through his scenes with an expression of serene disinterest – an expression I shared with him for most of this film's running time, especially the overlong est-whitewashing sequence which appeared to be one long run-in to Reynold's mildly amusing peeing-in-a-flask gag.

Supposedly based on the book of the same name, the only similarities are the characters' names -- SOME of the characters. Some of the best ones, such as Elroy Blunt, greatest country/western singer ever to warble a tune, were left out completely. The whole thing is a shame, because this was by far the funniest book I ever read. I remember eagerly anticipating the forthcoming movie back in 1977. Then I heard that Burt Reynolds, Kris Kristofferson and Jill Clayburgh were the stars and thought "oh-oh." Still, I went to see the movie -- just awful. Watched it again a couple of years ago with the hope that time might have taken the edge off. Wrong; it was worse than ever. While I respect the "favorable" reviews given by some above, it's obvious that they didn't read the book. I'd invite them to do so, then watch the movie again and see how they'd rate it again.