Opening on the sprawling fields of Georgia, The Dukes of Hazzard hopes the somewhat rugged, historic fields will distract from the absolute nothingness within. Our chirpy narrator tells us that this is where the apple pie may have been invented. Such delicious texture and variety similar to apple pie are nowhere to be found, and I find this claim of invention rather dubious. Redneck comedy with two rather rich gentlemen at the helm of it, The Dukes of Hazzard adapts the mediocrity of the television show with all the cold beers, denim shorts and burnt-out stars it can get its hands on. That explains Burt Reynolds, anyway. Rest his poor soul, his latter days as a performer are filled with these stinkers and duds of the comedy genre, a supremely upsetting segment of twilight years, reserved for hillbilly comedies detailing NASCAR racers and petty feuds.