Made in the early 80’s when the 70’s car chase genre was winding down, chockablock with copious footage lifted from such previous Roger Corman-backed drive-in flicks as “Grand Theft Auto,” “Moving Violation,” “Eat My Dust!,” and “Thunder and Lightening,” coasting on the faintest sliver of a one-note story, and, just like the numerous car chases showcased herein, running around in endless circles with no particular purpose or destination in mind, this energetically stupid comedic romp was harshly panned by critics and generally dismissed as an absolute turkey. Granted, it’s not exactly a good movie, but it’s certainly an enjoyably brainless, pointless and senseless wallow in crash ’em and smash ’em up demolition derby cinema.
Shrewd, impishly irreverent car nut misfit Roscoe (“Night Warning” ‘s Jimmy McNichol) abducts stuck-up homecoming queen Peggy Sue Turner (perky, fetching blonde Janet Julian) and goes on the lam with Peggy’s crusty, hot-tempered, very overbearing and overprotective sheriff dad (broadly played by the chubby Walter Barnes) and assorted oddball secondary characters in hot pursuit. That’s it for the plot; the rest of the picture is nothing more than spinning tires, out-of-control car stunts, an uptight girl loosening up on the road, young love blooming on the road, idiotic slapstick gags, a “what the hell is he doing here?” guy in an apesuit cameo, peppy rock songs blaring away on the soundtrack, and plenty of pedal-glued-to-the-floor ultra-speedy car chase scenes. Longtime Corman screenwriter Charles B. (“Bucket of Blood,” “The Little Shop of Horrors”) Griffith displays an endearingly all-thumbs incompetence as a director, which in this case greatly adds to the infectiously dopey festivities. The ubiquitous Gary Graver comes through with his customary smooth and polished cinematography. Brent Myggen’s frantically pumping’n’propulsive score rushes along to a quick snappy beat. The wildly mugging supporting cast is loaded with familiar faces: Dick Miller as a dippy dad, “Joyride to Nowhere” ‘s Mel Welles as a goofy sheik who speaks in fractured fragmented sentences, Bill Forsythe as a brutish caveman football player, Rance Howard as a fanatically gung-ho high school football coach, and Angelo Rossitto as an excitable midget hotel desk clerk. Overall, this baby measures up as a pretty solid and satisfying so-dumb-it’s-fun good time.
