In an acting stretch, Knievel plays Evel Knievel, a famous motorcycle daredevil and flashy dresser from the 1970s. You’d have to be a daredevil to be brave enough to wear some of the lapels that Knievel sports in this film - wide is putting it mildly. VIVA opens with him sneaking into a church hospital in the middle of the night and passing out toys to all the sick children who are delighted to see their old pal Evel. One kid even drops his crutches and walks for the first time because he is so excited to see the daredevil! Evel also charms the nun who runs the place, whereupon she forgets her initial aggravation over seeing a man with huge sideburns repeatedly slapping the children’s faces to wake them up in the middle of the night when he gives her some fudge she likes. Is it wrong for me to enjoy hearing a nun say, “Darn you, Evel!”? If it is, I certainly don’t want to be right.

With these and other scenes of Evel holding court over his legions of youthful admirers, he is clearly presenting himself as a role model for children. We can all admire his kind treatment of orphans and his anti-drug policy, but I wouldn’t really want my kids to follow Knievel’s example. He frequently crashes his motorcycle, says he is retired then changes his mind, goes on a tour of Mexico purely for monetary gain, and even breaks into a mental hospital on his cycle. One laborious subplot finds Will (Kelly) struggling to become a father to his son Tommy (Eric Olson). Knievel allows and even encourages the adolescent boy to ride a motorcycle, despite his father’s objections, so long as he wears a protective helmet. Naturally the boy crashes and falls and nearly kills himself. That Evel’s a hero all right. That’s like Hulk Hogan popping steroids while pushing kids to “take their vitamins.”

Leslie Nielsen’s unnecessarily complex scheme involves luring Knievel to Mexico, killing him in a stunt, then creating duplicates of Knievel’s gear caravan, hiding drugs inside the vehicles, and then bringing it all back across the border to Mexico. As you might guess, the plan does not go well, and that allows for a finale that involves cars, trucks, motorcycles and the outer limits of my cinematic patience. The strangest part is the moment when Evel finally realizes the evil (or “evel”) scheme he is caught up in but chooses to change his clothes (into a hideous orange jumpsuit) rather than pursuing the crooks. Evel didn’t think things through; dressing like a neon road construction sign when you’re trying to quietly sneak up on an armed caravan with hostages isn’t exactly the definition of “subterfuge.”