The Dukes of Hazzard 2: Moonshine Run (2026) barrels back into Hazzard County with the engine revved high and the attitude proudly stuck in neutral. Rather than simply rehashing nostalgia, the sequel smartly pits old-school muscle, rural rebellion, and analog chaos against the sleek menace of modern tech culture. It’s a culture-clash comedy disguised as a stunt-heavy action romp—and it knows exactly what lane it belongs in.
Johnny Knoxville and Seann William Scott slide back into Luke and Bo Duke with effortless familiarity. They’re older, a little banged up, but still allergic to authority. Knoxville leans into Luke’s reckless confidence with a knowing grin, while Scott’s Bo brings the heart and impulsive charm that grounds the madness. Their chemistry remains the movie’s backbone, selling both the comedy and the camaraderie without trying to modernize the characters beyond recognition.
Jessica Simpson’s Daisy Duke gets a welcome upgrade. No longer just the town’s eye-catching optimist, Daisy is now the sharp, no-nonsense owner of the Boar’s Nest, running the social and strategic hub of Hazzard County. Simpson plays her with confidence and control, positioning Daisy as the moral and tactical center of the resistance. It’s a subtle but effective evolution that keeps the character relevant without losing her iconic spark.
Danny McBride is perfectly cast as the villainous tech billionaire claiming Boss Hogg lineage. He chews the scenery with smug delight, blending Silicon Valley buzzwords with Southern entitlement. His plan to turn Hazzard into a “Smart City” where muscle cars are outlawed is absurd on its face—and that’s exactly the point. McBride’s performance is cartoonish but pointed, skewering modern corporate overreach with gleeful arrogance.
The film’s central conflict—technology versus tradition—never pretends to be subtle, but it doesn’t need to be. Moonshine Run thrives on broad strokes: drones versus the General Lee, algorithms versus instinct, electric hum versus roaring engines. The movie openly sides with chaos, celebrating ingenuity, mechanical skill, and human error as virtues rather than flaws.
Action-wise, the sequel delivers exactly what fans want. The car chases are loud, impractical, and gloriously physics-defying. The General Lee facing off against surveillance drones is the film’s standout set piece, blending slapstick destruction with genuine stunt work. Practical effects dominate, giving the action a tactile energy that modern CGI-heavy blockbusters often lack.
Comedy lands most consistently when it embraces self-awareness. The Dukes know they’re out of step with the modern world, and the film mines that friction for laughs without turning them into jokes themselves. Knoxville and Scott play the Dukes as stubborn, not stupid—a crucial distinction that keeps the humor affectionate rather than dismissive.
Tonally, Moonshine Run balances satire and sincerity better than expected. Beneath the moonshine deliveries and outrageous traps lies a genuine affection for community and place. Hazzard County isn’t just a backdrop—it’s a symbol of resistance against being erased, optimized, and monetized beyond recognition.
Visually, the film leans into sun-soaked rural Americana, contrasting dusty roads and wooden porches with sterile tech compounds and glowing screens. The aesthetic reinforces the theme without hammering it home, allowing the setting to do much of the storytelling work. It looks like a movie that smells like gasoline and barbecue—and that’s a compliment.
⭐ Final Verdict: The Dukes of Hazzard 2: Moonshine Run is unapologetically loud, ridiculous, and nostalgic—but also surprisingly timely. With strong returning performances, a perfectly cast villain, and action that values real stunts over digital gloss, the film proves that sometimes the best response to the future is flooring it in the opposite direction. It’s not trying to reinvent the Dukes—it’s reminding you why they mattered in the first place. 🚗🔥
