Rocky Balboa's Car - 1979 Pontiac Trans Am

My recent soliloquy on a 1981 Pontiac Turbo Trans Am jogged my memory about my buddy Bill's 1979 Trans Am. It was black and decked out in the full Smokey and the Bandit motif: gold pinstriping, gothic "Trans Am" decals, the giant gold "Screaming Chicken" sprawled across the hood, and those unmistakable gold snowflake wheels. In other words, it was the very definition of late-'70s disco-era automotive chic.

It was a beautiful car, and being Long Islanders, nobody gave Bill a hard time for looking like he was trying to channel Burt Reynolds. If anything, he got fist bumps for driving the same car Sylvester Stallone's Rocky Balboa buys with part of the purse from his rematch with Apollo Creed in Rocky II.

If that's news to you, then you've either never seen Rocky II or you've forgotten all about Rocky's gloriously reckless spending spree. Between the black-and-gold Trans Am, the lavish new house, the flashy clothes, and Adrian's expensive wardrobe, the Italian Stallion burns through his newfound fortune at a pace that would make a financial advisor break out in hives.

In retrospect, the producers' decision to cast a black Pontiac Trans Am in Rocky II makes it appear as though Rocky is paying homage to Burt Reynolds' Bandit from Smokey and the Bandit. Chronologically, that assumption makes sense. Smokey and the Bandit was filmed in 1976, released in 1977, and became one of the biggest box-office hits of the decade while Rocky II was being filmed in 1978.

Even so, the resemblance is almost certainly coincidental. By the late 1970s, the second-generation Pontiac Trans Am had become one of the most recognizable performance cars in America, and a black Trans Am with gold accents was hardly an unusual sight. While audiences naturally drew comparisons to the Bandit's car, there's no evidence that the filmmakers intended Rocky's Trans Am to be a deliberate homage to Burt Reynolds or Smokey and the Bandit. If anything, the similarity reflects the Trans Am's enormous popularity at the time rather than any conscious attempt to reference the earlier film.

The "Smokey and the Bandit-izing" of black-and-gold Pontiac Trans Ams is a fairly recent phenomenon. These cars were everywhere in the late '70s and well into the '80s, so it was only natural that Burt Reynolds' Bo "Bandit" Darville would drive one—it reflected contemporary automotive tastes rather than creating them. The same goes for Rocky buying one in Rocky II. To audiences in 1979, it wasn't a movie reference; it was simply the kind of car a newly successful boxer would buy. It's remarkable how the passage of time reshapes our memories of pop culture, turning what was once commonplace into something forever associated with a single film.

Rocky II was a surprisingly good movie. Was it great? No. Far from it. But it didn't have to be anything more than it was to give fans of the Academy Award-winning Rocky exactly what they wanted: to see Rocky finally beat Apollo Creed outright.

Along the way to that oh-so-predictable climax, we watch Rocky and Adrian get married, buy a house, have a son, and, of course, Rocky blows a wad of money on a black Pontiac Trans Am. His spending spree, combined with a string of bad financial decisions and the reality that his boxing career has stalled, all but bankrupts the young family. Eventually, Rocky gives the Trans Am away because he can no longer afford it.

It's the Balboas' financial hardship that does more than anything to motivate Rocky to accept Apollo's relentless demands for a rematch. Well, that, and Adrian finally giving him her blessing with the unforgettable words: "Win. Win!"

As movie cars go, Rocky's Pontiac Trans Am has never enjoyed anything close to the lasting fame of the black-and-gold Trans Am from the original Smokey and the Bandit. That makes perfect sense. In Smokey and the Bandit, the Trans Am was practically a co-star, central to the film's identity and featured in nearly every chase and stunt. In Rocky II, the car served a very different purpose.

Rocky's Trans Am wasn't there to steal scenes. Instead, it was a visual shorthand for his sudden, newfound wealth. Having gone from an obscure club fighter to a man with a lucrative payday, Rocky spends money with the enthusiasm—and lack of restraint—of someone who has never had any before. He buys the flashy black Trans Am, a new home, expensive clothes, and other luxuries without giving much thought to the future.

It's one of the more enjoyable aspects of Rocky II because it's so believable. Rocky isn't portrayed as financially savvy; he's an uneducated, working-class guy suddenly flush with cash. His spending spree feels less like arrogance than the natural reaction of someone who never expected to have money in the first place. The Trans Am perfectly symbolizes that brief period of carefree excess before reality catches up with him and he has to step back into the ring.

One of the enduring bits of Rocky II trivia is that four black 1979 Pontiac Trans Ams were reportedly used during filming, all of them equipped with the "6.6 LITRE" shaker decals. That seemingly insignificant detail actually reveals quite a bit to Pontiac enthusiasts. The "6.6 LITRE" decal signified the Oldsmobile-sourced 403-cubic-inch V-8, an engine Pontiac installed because its own 400 could no longer meet emissions requirements for cars sold in all 50 states. To many Pontiac purists, an Oldsmobile engine under the hood of a Trans Am bordered on heresy.

Had Rocky's Trans Am been powered by Pontiac's own 400, the shaker would have worn the coveted "T/A 6.6" decals instead. Those cars came exclusively with four-speed manual transmissions, whereas every 403-powered Trans Am was fitted with an automatic. That makes Rocky's apparent struggle to drive the car rather amusing in retrospect—there wasn't a clutch pedal to fumble with in the first place.

The scene where Rocky lurches and surges down the street has long struck car buffs as more theatrical than authentic. Rather than depicting someone learning to drive, it looks more like Sylvester Stallone repeatedly stabbing the accelerator to make the car buck and jerk, creating the illusion of an inexperienced driver. The effect works for comedy, even if it doesn't make much mechanical sense.

Audiences certainly seemed to appreciate the gag. I distinctly remember the theater erupting in laughter during that sequence. The humor wasn't really about whether Rocky could drive a Trans Am; it was another way of showing that despite his newfound wealth, he was still the same awkward, unsophisticated South Philly kid trying to navigate a world that suddenly looked a lot different.

Of curious note, it's telling just how little thought the producers put into casting Rocky's car in II. Although the movie is ostensibly set in 1976—despite there being little, if anything, to actually establish that—Rocky's car is a 1979 Trans Am.

Is that quibbling? Perhaps. But this is a blog about cars, and nit-picking is what we do. Especially when it comes to movie cars.

Allegedly, at least one of the Trans Ams used in Rocky II still survives and is owned by someone in New Jersey. There are no shortage of stories about people owning surviving Trans Ams from Smokey and the Bandit, but the Rocky II cars have remained far more obscure.

My friend Bill's black '79 wasn't nearly so fortunate. He wrecked it on a rain-slicked road. Although it was repaired, the car was never quite the same afterward. He lost confidence in it and sold it not long after getting it back from the body shop.

 

1979 Pontiac Trans Am - You Had to Be There

If I could be assured that I wouldn't have to endure the ninth grade again, I'd build a time machine to take me back to 1978-79 where I'd rob a bank and buy a hundred of these or so. Then I'd transport them back with me to now, sell them all except for maybe a black one or two and retire fat and happy. All the while scratching my head as to why anyone would pay the kind of money these things command. Don't believe me? This lovely 1979 Pontiac Trans Am is for sale outside Baltimore, Maryland with an asking price of $42,777. Say that asking price slowly and it's even more heart stopping. Forty-two thousand seven-hundred and seven-seventy dollars. Snowman, you got your ears on? 

These cars weren't always the pot-of-gold that they are now. Perhaps coinciding with the explosion in popularity of non-descript, soulless crossovers, it's only in the last ten, may be fifteen years that the values of these cars have gone through the sun-roof or T-Top. The values of the T/A's corporate sibling, the Chevrolet Camaro Z28 of this vintage are "up-there" too. Meanwhile, and ironically, the value of Corvette's of this vintage are languishing. I have a 1977 "C3", arguably more desirable than the heavier glass-fastback 1978-1982 C3's, and I know that even if it was in showroom condition, which (he laughs out loud) it's not, it would be hard to find a buyer who'd pay more than fifteen-grand for it. 

Back in 1979, a Corvette was a good four-grand more expensive than a Trans Am (that was  a lot!) and these days, if we're talking pie-in-the-sky original condition, a T/A commands two if not three if not four times what a '79 Corvette can. Even Camaro Z-28's are worth more than Corvette's. Why? 

Good question and I have my theories but let's not quibble about C3 Corvette's because today, we're all about late '70's Trans Am's. And rather than just shrug my shoulders and say that some things are what they are, or "it is what it is", there has to be something to it because, obviously, there is. 

As someone who lived through it, although I was rather young I was fully aware at the time, best I can tell you is there are several reasons for the appreciation in value for these cars and it's a lot more complicated than pin-pointing where Peter Frampton went wrong with his career. 

For starters, there's the engine. Or engines. These cars were the last of the "big-engine" muscle or pony cars manufactured in this country. Insurance surcharges, gas-mileage concerns and emissions regulations made muscle and performance cars all but verboten. On the Corvette, Chevrolet discontinued offering their "big-block", "454" V-8 after 1974 and the last big-block Camaro left factories in 1972. Ford didn't offer a "big" engine on their Mustang after 1971 and Chrysler dropped big motors on their Plymouth Barracuda and Dodge Challenger models after 1971 as well. I guess fittingly since Pontiac was billed as GM's performance division, Trans Am soldiered on with big displacement V-8 engines through 1979. Albeit ones that were somewhat wattered down to be in compliance with emissions and fuel economy regulations. They didn't do what they did because of horsepower - the big T/A's did it all with gobs of god's-green-earth-polluting torque. 

Our subject here is powered by the Pontiac 400 cubic-inch V-8 that makes it a bit of a rarity given that Pontiac stopped making that engine after 1978. Legend has it that a select few '79 Trans Am got left-over Pontiac 400's, most of them tenth anniversary T/A's that this one is not. The vast majority of T/A's in 1979 got 403 cubic-inch V-8's made by, Fred, are you sitting down? Oldsmobile. 

Like all good things, the big engines had to come to an end. Pontiac couldn't get the big mills to comply with new and far tougher fuel-economy and emissions stipulations that kicked in for 1980. The "big engine" in a T/A for 1980 and 1981 was a Chevrolet built 305 V-8 although the wobbly-kneed, turbo-charged, Pontiac built 301 V-8 on the "Turbo Trans Am" was technically more powerful. 

There was more to these cars than just tire shredding torque and relatively neutral handling. There's that "flaming" or "screaming" chicken on the hood. If  you don't "get this", all I can tell you is you had to be there. This was insanely cool back in the day; still is as it rifles me back to my oh-so-awkward junior high days. That's not my inner fourteen, fifteen year old saying that either. My twenty-three year old quasi-car loving older son loves this decal too. Even if it defies just about every convention for taste that's ever existed. It's kind of like early '70's Elvis in a jumpsuit before he packed on the ell-bee's. Somehow the largest decal ever installed from a factory on an automobile worked and worked fabulously. At least at first. Slapping this down on the the turbo T/A's of '80 and '81 was akin to Elvis in a jumpsuit just before his alleged passing. If you're wondering, it's official name from Pontiac was the "giant Firebird hood decal". 

However, time-travelers, and this might sound really silly, I'm of the opinion that the single biggest reason that these cars are as valuable as they are today is because of the 1977 Burt Reynolds literal and figurative star vehicle, "Smokey and the Bandit". 

Such was the power of a movie and particular star - you drove a "Bandit T/A" back in the day, regardless of the color scheme, you had it going on in ways that you just didn't if you drove a Corvette. And whereas if you drove a "Starsky and Hutch" Ford Gran Torino - folks snickered; not that Ford offered that stripe job but some people did get custom decal or paint jobs. Had Burt Reynolds driven a Corvette in "Smokey in the Bandit" perhaps late 70's Corvette's would've gotten the same lift in sales and later appreciation, but the film's director, Hal Needham, insisted on a black Trans Am for The Bandit. The rest, as they say, is history. 

Best is, our subject's asking price is "average retail" these days. High retail is over $61,000. Say that slowly. Now, anyone got a blue print for a time machine?