The cast is rounded out by Jacques Aubuchon, a gangster trying to take over the North Carolina white lightning racket, and Gene Barry, a Federal agent out to stop the home brewers and gangster Aubuchon.
How I felt about it. Thunder Road was made with the co-operation of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. That means the Federal agents are portrayed in the best light possible. Fortunately, this means they are not portrayed as comic incompetents, a la "Smokey and the Bandit" or "The Dukes of Hazzard." Unfortunately, it does mean that they are patient, methodical, and always in the right. In other words, they're boring.
In addition to devising the story and helping to write its theme song, Robert Mitchum produced Thunder Road. Since lead actors weren't paid ten million per film back then, Mitchum wasn't long on funds, and Thunder Road has the look and feel of a "B" movie. The script is competent, but the direction is sometimes lumbering, and the acting is often wooden. Aubuchon is a gangster stereotype, but less interesting than any that Edward G. Robinson ever played.
Most depressing of all is the performance and character of Robert
Mitchum. Since the film was his project, he gets the blame for the
faults, rather than director Ripley. Mitchum resonates manly-man
determination, and even during deadly highway showdowns with an
Aubuchon henchman, his laconic face doesn't show any tension.
He only
gets upset when his righteousness flares, particularly when mention is
made of his brother becoming a driver. Mitchum also has an implausible
confrontation with Aubuchon, knocking him unconscious with a single
blow once the conversation becomes unpleasant. Don't gangsters have
bodyguards? Then Mitchum actually sounds the alarm (does he
want to get caught?) before making his exit.
What a man Mitchum is. He'll never stop being a whiskey runner. He'll never cut a deal with the Feds. He'll never give into the gangsters. He'll never let a drunk interrupt his girlfriend's stage warbling. He'll never take advantage of one of Sandra Knight's passes, no matter how hot-looking or willing she may be. He'll never let his kid brother become a runner as well. And he'll never laugh or smile. He's the neverman. And nevermen are never particularly interesting.