TEEN AGE THUNDER (1957)

This seventy-eight-minute film—with night scenes lit by a 40-watt bulb—is another HOWCO International film specializing in low-budget double feature movies. Lost, Lonely and Vicious was another of their films that I have skewered. That film is so bad, I thought it should have been released as HOWCOME International. Directed, written and produced by guys who knew enough to get things rolling, this particular film is a couple of rungs above on the professional ladder. It is added to a long line of misunderstood hot rod teen films in the attempt to cash in on the original, Rebel Without A Cause, from two years prior. According to the movie's opening narration, hot rod racing is the nation's fastest-growing sport and it is pronounced, "drag-RACING" not today's "DRAG-racing."

The casting budget for this film did not make a dent in production costs. The twenty-seven-year-old Western supporting actor Chuck Courtney plays an eighteen-year-old. His “method acting” captures a lonely, unhappy high school senior. Down the professional scale is the monotonous, singsong delivery of Melinda Byron, Courtney's girl and waitress at the local diner. Doing much better with leading man stature is Robert Fuller, who plays a braggart with an ego larger than his flat-head V-8. He and Courtney have a thing: they hate each other. In real life, Fuller is three years younger than Courtney, too young for a driver's license! Yet the assumption is that he is older, perhaps dropping out of school two years sooner. He does have a letter jacket, but no achievement letters sewn on. Playing a pivotal part is Paul Bryar. With a long career as a supporting player, he is the most genuine actor in this film. As he was often cast, he played a policeman in the aforementioned Dean classic.

Courtney's widowed father is a hard-lined disciplinarian showing little affection for his non-commital son. The boy slouches at the dinner table and wears a T-shirt during supper. It could not possibly get much worse. Well, jail time would figure in. Living under the same roof is the father's sister, who tries to reason with her narrow-minded brother when sparks fly. In the end, the adults teach errant teenagers little about taking responsibility for their actions.

God's gift to hot rodders shifts his charm into high gear for the affections of Miss Byron during a lunch with Courtney. Not liking the company, she persuades Courtney to drive her home in her brother's old car. The subsequent filming nearly suggests Guy Ritchie's hand-held camerawork to create the shaky sensation of speed as Fuller blasts past them. Courtney's attempt to keep up shows the speedometer's needle also blasting from 50 to 80 mph in about two seconds—2025 Corvette ZR-1 territory, buddy!

There is a listing for a job opening at a Mobil gas station owned by Bryar, currently building a hot rod. The high schooler now has a father figure who understands burning rubber off tires and wasting fuel a quarter mile at a time. Later, the even-tempered mechanic gives some valuable advice to Courtney's father on how to be one. With some inner confessions, Dad turns the corner at Reality and Shame. He learns his son got clobbered by Fuller, and Dad wants to teach him how to defend himself. Turns out, 'ol dad was a middle-weight boxing champion in college. Dad's lesson with boxing gloves has him feeling like a champion again. Knocking his son to the grass a few times feels pretty good. A second lesson is not happening.

Fuller challenges the introvert to a drag race for Byron's honor—what to do, what to do?! Courtney lies about his age to a used car salesman, Bing Russell, and lies about just going around the block for a test drive. I am beginning to side with his father. Courtney calls to inform him that he will return the car the next morning. Russell is irate. He had a big date. He is the antithesis of a stereotypical used car salesman and no charges are filed. Ahh...to live in the early twentieth century when common sense overruled suing. The law offices of "Fuller & Courtney" meet with the former, suggesting they drive towards each other at top speed in near cave darkness. Cool. Showing more courage than either driver, Byron intervenes by standing in the middle of the road, causing both idiots to do the “Byron Swerve.” She promptly faints.

Courtney steals the hot rod from the gas station. The Mobil owner planned to drive it in the upcoming drag race in place of his son, afflicted with Polio. Putting wisdom forefront, Bryar has faith the man/boy took the rod to put Fuller in his place. Never mind about zero drag strip experience. It is a no-brainer who beats whom, which is edited as if it were a mile-long track. Full-of-it Fuller falsely accuses his competitor of trying to wreck him, the excuse for losing. Both actors were trained stuntmen, so they pull off a pretty realistic fistfight. Courtney's single boxing lesson pays off as he pictures Fuller as his dad. Pop buys the hot rod for his favorite son and drives it home. To Courtney's delight, Dad gets the speeding ticket instead.

Notes: The title song is performed well by David Houston (1935-1993). The song is also used during the first trip to the Front Page diner, where teens seem to think it is a tune you could possibly dance to. He is credited as the star of RCA Victor records in the fashion of a Frankie Avalon or Bobby Rydell of the period. But Houston's mark was on the country music charts, finding huge success in the 1960s.

Chuck Courtney gained a splash of notoriety initially by playing the visiting nephew of the Lone Ranger for several episodes before this film. With a couple of exceptions, he is best known for his supporting roles in countless Westerns. Another actor getting his start in the Western was popular television leading man Robert Fuller. He gained stardom for television's Laramie, Wagon Train, and Emergency!.

HOT ROD (1950)

Monogram Pictures did the right thing by keeping this a sixty-minute film. One could blame an idealistically inane screenplay by Daniel Ullman for these “breakout” kids who use proper grammar and handle adversity with unselfish common sense. Lewis Collins—known for his many Westerns—directed. Hollywood had its influence on this film, but these mid-century people actually existed in smaller cities across the United States. In five years, MGM’s Blackboard Jungle will portray a harsher rebellion far removed from this milquetoast outing.

Opening voice-over narration describes what a hot rod is against the backdrop of stock footage at El Mirage Dry Lake in California. Edward Kay’s score with frenetic violins supports the film’s opening, reminding one of a 1930s action serial. Poignant, as the hot rods in this film are souped-up Thirties coupes. With World War Two stagnating the auto industry’s creativity, the hot rod culture was born out of a need for something completely different. The music takes a serious tone as we see an overturned hot rod along a county road. Racing in the desert is legal and safer. Street racing is for “Club Ignorant” members. The crux of the film.

Six hot rods, two rows three-abreast, race on a straight stretch of road for bragging rights with the pavement barely wide enough to stay on the concrete. Unbelievably, the road’s finish line is lined with high school fans, many standing on the edge of the pavement. Though the starting point is logically out of sight, the gang is already cheering wildly. The fans are looking across—not down—the road, but Hollywood gives the impression they have the same vantage point as the camera crew. Filmmaking at its essence. It takes the racers forever to speed past their classmates due to repeated views of the previous footage. Topping the preposterous scene off is a motorcycle cop—heading in the opposite direction—attempting to halt the speeding hot rods by waving his arms wildly. His death is averted.

James “Henry Aldridge” Lydon (left) seems to reprise his iconic character this time as the son of the town judge, Art Baker, who apparently runs the town. He is not wavering about cracking down on illegal street racing, so that the teen gene pool is not completely drained. In a rare instance, Myron Healey does not play a villain but a police officer, the older brother of Lydon. Trying to convince “Pop” to support a legally timed strip will not be easy. Lydon buys an old beater and, being level-headed, does not add any “soup.” It is just a tired dog of transportation. His best bud and comic relief, Gil Stratton, is full of sarcastic jabs about it. This from a guy whose imprinted cap design—from the front—makes it look like his hair is in curlers. Gloria Winters, Lydon’s spoken-for girl since grade school (aka elementary), is embarrassed to ride in his turtle junker. Local demon of speed, Tommy Bond (right) is a hit with the ladies and a twisted crankshaft to Lydon. Lydon and Stratton set out to piece together the fastest rod within the city limits.

Jealous, Bond steals Lydon's pride and joy, then sideswipes a sedan in town, parking the car nearby. The police and the entire town, including Winters, assume Lydon is guilty without any proof. This, back when social media was actually social. He escapes a “public hanging” when Bond jumps up in the courtroom to confess. “Judge Dad” is lenient, but orders his own son to get rid of the hot car nonetheless. But...fate moves its huge hand—my apologies to screenwriter, Stanford Whitmore. A bank robber saves the day as Lydon’s hot rod catches up with an escaping Cadillac’s license plate. A motorcycle cop and patrol car quickly catch up with Lydon and Stratton, who lead the police in the waning moments of the pursuit. This is a pretty realistically filmed chase. For his heroism under preposterous circumstances, Lydon gets a motorcycle police escort back home as the officers vouch for the kid to his father. Hot rods and law enforcement are on the same side. There is a highly contrived closing as the judge’s public apology falls on deaf ears at the drag strip’s groundbreaking ceremony.

Note: Gloria Winters is best known to Baby Boomers as Penny on the action-adventure Saturday morning show, “Sky King.” Kirby Grant starred as Schuyler "Sky" King, while Penny portrayed his niece, who was always consumed by unexpected trouble. The television version began in 1951, and the popular show ran for eight years. As for Tommy Bond, he was the original Jimmy Olson in the Superman movie serials.