Not to be confused with the 1997 “revisioning” starring Viggo Mortensen, this is the original cult classic from those glorious grindhouse ‘70s that found new attention in Quentin Tarantino’s love letter to automotive exploitation, Death Proof. I actually dug this tarnished little gem up at my dad’s request some time last year and finally sat down and watched it myself. Having taken the NesTea plunge, I can see why the flick never found its niche with mainstream audiences…
Our film’s anti-hero is a rough customer who goes solely by the name of Kowalski. Big K makes his money as a driver, transporting cars for people across the country. His next job is to get a souped-up 1971 Dodge Challenger (again, Death Proof viewers take notice) from the Rocky Mountain high of Colorado to the sun and surf of California in 2 days. In fact, he makes a wager with his PCP dealer that, if he can make the run in the short time he’s been allotted; his latest round is on the house. And nothing says “all American” like free drugs!
Kow’s excessive speeding gets him in trouble with the fuzz though, and before you can say “Oops, I crapped my pants”, our man’s got the long arm of John Q. Law knocking on his trunk. Not one to let something as paltry as the cops keep him from fulfilling a contract, the rest of the movie turns into a 2 hour gear-head epic with Kowalski outrunning police cars in chase sequence after chase sequence through the dessert sprawl of the wild west in his super charged speed machine. In between pursuits though, K-Fed meets up with a colorful collage of supporting characters that help him and hassle him along the way, including a fat guy in a Jaguar that tries to outrace his Detroit built, American-made muscle car; a blind jive radio deejay who helps our hero out with cryptic messages over the airwaves (played by none other than everybody’s favorite black sheriff, Cleavon Little!); an old man who survives by capturing rattlesnakes and selling them to a nomadic evangelist; a chopper ridin’ hippy biker and his nekkid flower child lady who likes to probably has to hose the sand out of her hootch five or six times a day; and others. Can our man Kowalski evade the Man’s grasp long enough to get the car to California on time, or will he finally burn and spend the next few years looking at life passing by from behind a set of iron bars with a cellmate name Percy?
The way the movie plays out is interesting, because it pretty much jumps to point and starts the action from the opening. After picking up the Challenger and making his little wager with his dealer over the PCP, Kowalski wastes no time getting on the road and causing trouble. For those afraid that this signals a sacrifice of story telling and characterization, there’s plenty of time for that as flashback after flashback fills in Kowalski’s history as a former ‘Nam vet, former cop, former stock car driver, former motocross racer, former sky diving Elvis, former clown for kids’ parties, former pirate hooker… okay, so those last three aren’t exactly true, but you get the idea. If the flashbacks aren’t enough for you “I need a story to enjoy a movie” snobs out there, we also wade through Kowalski’s numerous interactions with his new buddies… damn, for a heart racing car chase movie, there’s sure is a lot of fucking slowdown throughout…
Those of you looking for a movie with a “message” will get what you want too, as the entire flick stands as a testament against the fascism of conservative America. Our hero is a pill popping, flower child loving, strong silent John Wayne kinda guy who’s so bad ass and anti-establishment that he actually used to work for the Man and realized it was all bullshit. Meanwhile, the racist, violent, hypocritical, narrow minded bigots spend the movie hassling hippies and going all KKK on our sightless pal Super Soul. The message is clear: fuck the Man in his stupid uptight ass!... which I think they could’ve made perfectly clear without so many fucking support characters dragging down the running time. Note for hopeful movie makers: nothing kills the intensity of a car chase movie like having your character stop every 10 minutes to make chat time with strangers. He’s an establishment fighting anti-hero, not a fucking politician.
