THUNDER ALLEY (1967)

Today, in the memory-fogged use of hindsight, some lament over Annette Funicello not getting the chance to break out as a legitimate actress. This was irrelevant in the mid-Sixties as young ticket buyers never gave a thought to her acting abilities. She does have a pulse in this film; however, doing a good job with a wide range of emotions. This predictable film was not as successful as the previous year's Fireball 500, again starring Funicello with Fabian Forte.

Kenneth Crane and Ronald Sinclair managed to edit this "auto-racing-beach-party" film down to a lengthy ninety minutes. They still did not leave enough frames on the editing floor. This was the last American International Pictures film for Funicello. A timely departure given the studio's transition to rougher, psychedelic biker films and anti-Vietnam war projects. Director Richard Rush leaves behind the previous teenage beach comedies to “adultify” the characters from those innocent, music-filled films where boy meets girl and they behave themselves. Monroe Askins' frenetic, effective cinematography during a post-race wild party changes that. This is typical drive-in movie fare. Funicello’s disapproving character leaves the party early, but as she anemically sings a love ballad in her pre-teen whisper, she removes a cigarette pack. You can hear Walt Disney’s pipe hit the floor after dropping from his mouth. But she is only putting it and other packs in a case for someone else. Whew!

Though imagining that teen idol, Fabian Forte, came up with that stage name, he was actually born with it. His acting strength in this genre was his ability to act cocky on screen. But his cardboard performance gets the yellow caution flag for any high school drama department, as he does not quite leave the late Fifties behind. His character is a promising stock car driver whose blackouts—when boxed in—create track havoc. He causes a crash that kills a popular driver, and he is suspended from professional racing. The authorities think he caused the crash for personal gain. Disgraced, he is desperate for work and willing to accept driving on the county fair bumper-car circuit. Race team owner, the lumpy Stanley Adams, initially shies away from the controversial competitor.

Forte ends up accepting a job as a daredevil driver for a cheap demolition derby owned by a tightwad promoter, Jan Murray, whose daughter, Funicello, is one of his drivers, along with fellow driver and boyfriend, the unassuming Warren Berlinger. Forte offers advice on how better to do Funicello's upcoming stunt. She is not happy about her unsuccessful attempts, thinking it is because of her father’s unwillingness to spend money on a more powerful engine. Fabulous Forte suggests it is not power but speed. Start farther back and get a good run on the ramp. Duh! She agrees with his obvious assessment. No surprise, they are soon on the ramp of romance, with Berlinger permanently in pit lane. Stunt thrill shows remained fairly popular during this era. Doing 2-wheel driving in new Ford Mustangs may have boosted sales, though not necessary.

The vintage footage inserted may perk up the NASCAR historian. The producers were unable to match the resolution with the staged film segments, giving the stock footage a blurry, color-altered appearance. Cutaways to the actor’s staged cheering or the motionless studio prop car “driving” are straight out of the Forties. Real track announcer, Sandy Reed, is again on hand to call the races. In shades and a microphone in hand, he appears restrained from gesturing wildly by a short cord. During a final race, Forte gets boxed in again and, through ghostly flashbacks, comes to grips with his past, dissolving his blackouts. Self-cured and in the good graces of race organizers, he returns to big-time oval racing.

Note: George Barris had quite an imagination, often ignoring the concept of form following function for attention. Certainly, his claim to fame is television’s Batmobile, along with his “Dragula” coffin-inspired dragster, Herman Munster’s vehicle of choice. The mostly white 1967 Dodge "Thunder Charger" in this film is a hunk of outrageous work, repainted from its original, more cohesive design. Barris hacks up the movie car into three color sections rather than using white as the lead color up front, "speed thrusting" the red and blue to the rear. One may wonder how much air was trapped in the remaining fastback section. That said, the hugely popular Charger generated a lot of conversation exiting the drive-in in the family's ten-year-old Buick.