It's the mid-1950s in the San Fernando Valley and all the kids are into hot rods of one sort or another. It's generally peaceable. The community has built a drag strip where the kids may race in relative safety after their cars have been inspected to make certain there isn't a loose pfoofnik pin somewhere. (You don't really learn anything about hot rods or their engines; you just see them zoom around.) All of this friendly competition takes place under the avuncular guidance of the gentle policeman, Chuck Connors.
John Smith, the young auto mechanic, is the titular hero on parole for an accident that wasn't his fault. He's blandly handsome (I guess) and is, overall, a dull goody-goody. His girl friend is cute and innocent Lori Nelson, also dull, but who once had the decency to parade around in her underwear for a few seconds in "Revenge of the Creature," the second Gill Man movie. Frank Gorshin is "Flat Top," who is there mainly to provide laughs, though his wisecracks are no longer funny, if they ever were.
The bad guy, Mark Andrews, rolls into town in his modified Olds and exudes contempt for everyone he meets, as a brightly colored tree frog in the Amazon rain forest exudes poison. I suppose he's darkly handsome too, and he has the smoothest line for the girls. "Hey, Baby, you're some high-powered chick. Whaddaya say we step on the gas tonight." I don't think I'll bother with the plot. It's not worth it. A couple of other reviewers seemed to truly enjoy this, which makes me feel more marginalized than Big Top Pee Wee. I thought it was immeasurably bad. It plumbed depths of imagination and skill that I never knew existed. I needed a bathyscaphe while searching for the least evidence of any redeeming quality but the benthic deep was sterile.
It's hard to imagine that even someone who grew up in that milieu could enjoy this. However, these days, there is simply no telling.
John Smith, the young auto mechanic, is the titular hero on parole for an accident that wasn't his fault. He's blandly handsome (I guess) and is, overall, a dull goody-goody. His girl friend is cute and innocent Lori Nelson, also dull, but who once had the decency to parade around in her underwear for a few seconds in "Revenge of the Creature," the second Gill Man movie. Frank Gorshin is "Flat Top," who is there mainly to provide laughs, though his wisecracks are no longer funny, if they ever were.
The bad guy, Mark Andrews, rolls into town in his modified Olds and exudes contempt for everyone he meets, as a brightly colored tree frog in the Amazon rain forest exudes poison. I suppose he's darkly handsome too, and he has the smoothest line for the girls. "Hey, Baby, you're some high-powered chick. Whaddaya say we step on the gas tonight." I don't think I'll bother with the plot. It's not worth it. A couple of other reviewers seemed to truly enjoy this, which makes me feel more marginalized than Big Top Pee Wee. I thought it was immeasurably bad. It plumbed depths of imagination and skill that I never knew existed. I needed a bathyscaphe while searching for the least evidence of any redeeming quality but the benthic deep was sterile.
It's hard to imagine that even someone who grew up in that milieu could enjoy this. However, these days, there is simply no telling.