HOT CARS (1956)

This sixty-minute-plus American crime film stars John Bromfield in the best of his four Bel-Air Production films (see below), playing a man out to prove his innocence or regain his self-esteem. The film is fast-paced with a high degree of believability. The acting is not forced, with everyone doing a fine job for a low-budget project. Based on Hot Cars by H. Haile Chace, it is directed by Don McDougall and written by Don Martin and Richard Landau. It was produced by Howard W. Koch. Some wry comments are used by a couple of cast members to good effect. 

The opening jazz band score by Les Baxter sets an action tone while the viewer watches a 1955 Mercedes-Benz 190SL convertible being test-driven. Under superimposed screen credits, we watch Bromfield pull the sports car to the roadside so the potential buyer, and stereotypical bombshell, Joi Lansing, can take the wheel. She provides the only curves—nearly all hairpins—in the film. Building customer relations is foremost in his mind, so they stop at Santa Monica's “Jack's at the Beach” bar for a drink and chat, hoping to close the deal. Before the drive back to the dealership, in the only unintentionally funny moment, he irresponsibly asks her, “What good is one drink without one for the road?” Though the salesman seems to now have a heavy foot on the drive back to the dealership, they return without incident. She drives away in her giant 1956 Chrysler New Yorker convertible.

Bromfield's perpetually irate boss, Robert Osterloh, an auto-shyster of the first order, is savvy enough to know his clientele. He blasts him for wasting time with a high-class dame who has no interest in used cars. Bromfield is straddling the unemployment fence at this point. Enter Ralph Clanton, who appears to be interested in an old MG roadster for only $700. But “Honest John” Bromfield tells him it was used on the racing circuit, has been rolled three times, and will be nothing but trouble. Clanton appreciates his honesty, then drives away. Wanting to unload the dumpster roadster—and on his last nerve—Osterloh fires Bromfield. Clanton re-enters the picture by calling straight-arrow Bromfield about working for his own dealerships. The whole MG thing was just a ruse, as was Lansing's coy attitude. As soon as Bromfield discovers the hot car racket, he walks out.

But the salesman and his devoted wife suddenly have an urgent financial dilemma thrust upon them when their ill son needs surgery. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Clanton accepts Bromfield's decision to return just as the always authentic Dabbs Greer enters the film. The detective asks the salesman to keep an eye out for any suspicious cars. Later that night, a shipment of hot cars is unloaded onto the lot, and in near panic, the semi-driver—a real hep cat—tells Bromfield, “Cut the [dealership] lights, man!” The driver has a habit of ending all his sentences with "man." The next day, Greer returns to look at a Chrysler, one of the hot cars yet to be moved behind the dealership. Bromfield's initial fear is temporarily unfounded because the detective simply wants to buy the car as an anniversary gift for his wife—she always liked Chryslers. Greer and his wife return that night, ready to sign on the dotted line. Bromfield is well aware that the hot car will not remain a secret very long. In hopes of dissuading Greer, he tries a couple of stalling tactics, then suddenly requires a larger down payment. Clanton's "auto muscle" finally shows up with a phony sales receipt for the car. Greer is very suspicious of the last-minute flip-flop. He levels some pointed comments at Bromfield when he returns one last time that night. Oddly, Greer walks away, down the sidewalk, perhaps not realizing he could have just parked at the dealership like he had done before. 

Two police officers want to question Bromfield about the murder of the detective, explaining why he was scripted to walk from the car lot. When he arrives home, his wife pleads with him to tell the whole truth and nothing but. The three men pay Lansing a visit, and not surprisingly, she denies ever meeting Bromfield. He says he can prove he was there, but she had the room “renovated,” and it is not as he describes it from another room. The salesman flees the beach house with the intent of tracking down the assassin. It leads to an exciting and authentic roller coaster climax at Ocean Park Pier in Santa Monica. The two men receive and give punches while being filmed from a coaster car in front of or behind them. Quite a ride for the viewer. Thankfully, no rear-projected screens. Jockeying for position, the henchman is thrown during a high-speed crest, catapulting a limp, stuffed dummy to the pavement below. Justice is served as the car sales team of "Clanton & Lansing" has been on law enforcement's radar for some time. In the end, Bromfield was never really a murder suspect; they just wanted his help. The film abruptly ends with the camera focusing on a "Closed" sign at the amusement park.

Notes: Bel-Air Productions was a joint venture between the director, Koch, and the independent producer Aubrey Schenck. These low-budget productions were all distributed through United Artists. Bel-Air usually offered realism on the cinematography front with its location filming. This movie is an eyeful for the automotive historian as it was filmed at Big John's and Johnny O'Toole's used car dealerships in Culver City, California. The film thanks both for their cooperation with an ending acknowledgment.

Bromfield starred in three other Bel-Air Productions of the period, some unintended amusement, less tidy, and generally inferior to this film. Check out The Big Bluff, Crime Against Joe, and Three Bad Sisters.