THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS (1955)

This seventy-three-minute B-movie is loaded with all the ingredients of a little-known film. But it is not. With a meager budget and a ten-day shooting schedule, it was destined to return a profit. Produced by Roger Corman with a story by the same, this Palo Alto Productions film was the first produced for American International Pictures. He took home the checkered flag for this one. There is no Diesel in this film, however. It stars John Ireland, who also directed, along with Edward Sampson. Corman updated his resumé after seeing Ireland’s good results. Getting few casting calls at this point in her career, Dorothy Malone signed on as the second-billed lead. Despite the necessary dialogue to explain why Ireland is furious, and Malone drives fast, it is full of entertainment value and plenty of Corman trademarks. The two leads seem made for each other, and perhaps a catalyst for moviegoers. Filming at the Pebble Beach racing circuit may have boosted ticket sales—plenty of vintage sports car footage for the automobile fan.

There is a puzzling opening to the film that has the feel of a truncated theatrical trailer. The viewer has to wait about forty minutes to find out what it is all about. 

In another furrowed-brow role, Ireland plays a guy framed for murder. The only means of escaping the rap is to break jail. Minding his own business in a diner, Malone drives up in her Jaguar XK120 V-6 to get a glass of pineapple juice. Try requesting that in North Dakota. A blonde motormouth waitress, Iris Adrian—the physical equivalent of today's social media—is full of opinions and gossip about the recent murder. She is irritating Ireland, as does a rotund male customer who keeps probing him with questions. He pulls a revolver on Ireland; there is a scuffle, and "Lumpy" gets decked. The Jaguar did not go unnoticed. Ireland hustles Malone out of the diner and suspends her driving privileges. She might come in handy as a suggested couple. What she becomes is a nightmare hostage, frustrating him to no end as she tries to escape, throws the ignition key in the weeds, or constantly complains. They dislike each other immediately.

The unconscious music score is the single worst element in the film. A Corman tradition. It is never appropriate for any given scene, as if they randomly chose selections from a music library based on the album's cover art. The first inappropriate use is during Malone’s arrival at the diner with situation comedy music of the era. I half expected a laugh track when she ordered the pineapple juice. An over-the-top theme is used as the two escape motorcycle police. The complicated, raging orchestral music is played at a very low level, so it will be less noticeable. But the scene calls for tension from a sustained note. Some of today’s action thrillers have a fear of silence, like so many people on a picnic who cannot eat outdoors without a sound system making willows weep. I digress. 

The music quietly and mindlessly crescendos as Malone excitedly says, “I’m Hungry!” Later, upon entering a roadblock, Ireland pulls a gun on Malone. “Don’t try anything,” he snarls. Hollywood's idle threat is always stupid. If he fires the gun, the police will be on top of him, plus there is no point in shooting her. Maybe Ireland really is a psycho. No surprise they get through after telling the authorities they are participating in the nearby international race. Suddenly, Malone gets playfully sarcastic as her mood changes. Soon, “humorous” jabs are traded, signifying an upshift in their relationship.

Malone is well-known and respected on the racing circuit. She enters her car in the cross-border race, but Ireland will drive the manly course. Riding as a passenger, she verbally points out the correct driving techniques to be a winner as they take a practice run over the course. Ireland is an implausibly quick learner. She did not coach Ireland on how to appear believable when “driving” the studio prop car, though. His face looks positively numb. Suspicious of Ireland is Malone’s racing friend, Bruce Carlisle, who is given the caution flag for worst acting. The racing sequences, using shaky, rear-facing race footage, add some excitement. Rather humorous, though, is the race announcer calling turns and spotting cars over the long-distance road course despite a thick forest and distant hills obscuring his view. Ireland and Carlisle battle for the win until the latter loses control and crashes. Ireland’s plan for his Mexico exit does not become a reality as he stops to help his fellow racer.

Note: Dorothy Malone’s hit-and-miss career might be compared to that of a contemporary of hers, Marsha Mason. Malone’s most visible role may have been her lead in television’s “Peyton Place.” Originally a brunette, dyeing her hair platinum boosted her career for a short time, as an assumed alternative to Monroe. But there were plenty of those.

THE PACE THAT THRILLS (1952)

You can thank the producer, Lewis J. Rachmil, for helping make this RKO Pictures release just sixty-three minutes long. Howard Hughes' tread marks are evident in this film, with opening dramatic action shots of motorcycle racing appearing to have been filmed a decade earlier. No music score beneath the credits, just the roar of racing. The historic motorcycle fan may like it. Plaudits go to good rear camera work right in the thick of the racing sequences. Of course, sandwiched in between are the familiar fuzzy studio-projected backgrounds of the actors' pseudo-racing." A predictable script with supporting actors, more C-movie than B-movie, it becomes simply a time-filler, as it was for me. Despite these things, the entertainment value is pretty high.

With a similar visual opening, do not confuse this film with the motorcycle gang film, The Wild One. The dweebs in this movie certainly could use some road manners, but their Clover Leaf "Sickle" Cub (as one character pronounces it) becomes a gang only to play cycle soccer, have a cola, or ride together, weaving between oncoming traffic. Or feel the thrill of your best girl hanging on for dear life when they "pack double," as those crazy cavorting young adults used to say. But it is not, as the poster suggests, murder on wheels. Death on wheels? A distinct possibility.

The movie centers around the misunderstood era of motorcycles and winning anyway you can. Bill Williams' style of racing has taken a cue from the roller derby circuit as he, quite literally, kicks challengers out of a race to win. When your company does not have the fastest bike, cheating levels the field. Encouraging “Long Leg Williams” is his boss and cycle builder, Robert Armstrong. He feels bad that Williams has to play dirty, yet he can live with that. The chief engineer and childhood friend of Williams, Michael St. Angel (RKO changing his name to Steve Flagg), is building a new cycle with fluid drive, as per Chrysler transmissions of the day, I assume. He thinks Williams is the best rider in the city limits. If Williams rides it, they are sure to win. Possibly without cheating. But one never knows. 

Enter female newspaper reporter, Carla Balenda, who is sent to do a hard-hitting story about what these nuts do on weekends. When she witnesses William's lack of riding etiquette in the ring of dirt, her story berates Williams to the point of tears. Well, unlikely. She gets a new perspective on cycling, though, when she and Flagg take to the road with other club members. There is a lot of filming as actors recite dialogue in the movie’s middle. Enough said. Flagg’s new “sickle” still has flaws to work out, but no dough to do it. Williams racks up funds by racing and stunt riding on the Daredevil circuit, county fairs, and Girl Scout cookie fundraisers. Flagg again pilots the new bike in a major race while graciously, carefully, Williams takes himself out on the final lap in a controlled crash, giving Flagg and the new cycle the win. But that is all he wins. Williams gets the girl.

NOTE: Williams is half of the acting glue that barely holds this film together. Robert Armstrong is the other half. Frank McHugh is on hand to do his trademark high, lilting laugh. Balenda holds her own, but that cannot be said of the handsome Flagg. His lines are delivered like a polished amateur. The name change did not help. A red flag that his career was not going to be remembered.

DRIVE A CROOKED ROAD (1954)

This lower-budget Columbia Pictures drama succeeds thanks to its excellent cast and screenplay. A better-than-average B-movie centering around an automotive theme. The screenplay was written by Blake Edwards from a story by James Benson Nablo and adapted by Richard Quine. The eighty-three-minute film starts off in realistic fashion, hiding the plot initially with racing sequences filmed on location in California. Outside of these scenes, a studio Jaguar XK120 prop car is being hounded by rear-projected cars as an introduction to the film's star. There are cameras also at an actual automotive specialty shop, which is a real eye-ful for foreign car fans. Under echoes of the garage's concrete interior, each vehicle is lined up in its stall as its tune-up awaits. Master mechanic Mickey Rooney is one of the repair shop's best. He had left Andy Hardy in the dust with Quicksand four years earlier, also playing an auto mechanic. Rooney would use another Edwards screenplay, The Atomic Kid, the same year.

The film takes its time to establish Rooney's character, but it is never dull. The entire cast is more than competent. Rooney is first-rate as an unassuming mechanic and part-time racer of the aforementioned Jaguar. He lives and breathes automobiles, leaving little time for socializing. His dream is to race in the famous circuits in Europe. Throwing a wrench into his garage is Dianne Foster, who brings in her British Hillman, asking specifically for Rooney to work on it. The very next day, Foster again has “car trouble.” It will not start―probably expected―but this time, Rooney has to drive to her apartment building. Being the perfect gentleman, he gets her car started with only a thank you expected. She quickly gets him started, twisting him tightly around her finger. He is nervously smitten by the Amazon female. She is a woman with interior...uh...ulterior motives. 

Kevin McCarthy and Jack Kelly finish out the deceitful trio. McCarthy has been scouting local race tracks for a fast driver. They single out Rooney as their ideal chump. Like diesel fuel in sub-zero weather, the plot thickens. Witty script lines perfectly befit Kelly's condescending sarcasm, usually at Rooney's expense. McCarthy wants Rooney to drive a crooked, dangerous road in twenty minutes that would safely take forty. In mock fascination, he pumps up Rooney's ego on what it would take to do this. Accurately, he explains the different driving dynamics of a European car compared to a heavy American sedan. The lighter European models corner better, have stiffer suspension, and exude more confidence on a racing circuit. One would need to highly modify an old sedan to make it work. But Rooney is puzzled about the importance of twenty minutes. And his payment of fifteen grand just to drive. He immediately punches the emergency brake on their robbery getaway plan. 

By this stage, Foster is showing sincere remorse for towing the sweet little guy along. The trio is at McCarthy's beach house when Rooney shows up, hoping to find Foster. Something he was told not to do. Still sufficiently naive, McCarthy tells him he has not seen her. Foster enters from another room to bluntly spill her guts about her involvement, much to McCarthy's ire. Rooney knows a bit too much at this point. It is Kelly's job to eliminate him along the coastal roadway. As an excellent driver, Rooney knows how to handle sudden emergencies. He also knows how best to roll a car. Rooney survives and stumbles back about a mile to McCarthy's with Kelly's gun. The one in the poster that suggests Rooney is a hired killer or something. The ending minute leaves the story unresolved, but it does not take a certified master mechanic to figure it out.

Note: The studio prop car's “driving” sequences are pretty funny during their shortcut's dusty escape. The studio's stunt driver and sound department put on an impressive show, however. Rooney's faking of the prop car steering wheel suggests he understands and respects the car's limits. He supposedly hits 100 mph at one point with Kelly hanging on for dear life in the back seat as the rear-projected scenery shifts abruptly left to right, tires squealing in the dirt. Not as wacky as W.C. Fields' climactic driving in The Bank Dick, but nonetheless, amusing.

JOHNNY DARK (1954)

This Universal Picture's release is a fast-paced film about a talented, young and ambitious automobile engineer, Tony Curtis with a private investigator's name, working for an independent manufacturer.  Curtis An outstanding poster illustration tells all you need to know about this movie. The eighty-five-minute film was directed by George Sherman and produced by William Alland. The actors have nothing to apologize for but it was soon shelved in the minds of moviegoers in light of Curtis' rising career. Yet this film is far more fun to watch than a similar racing-themed release the following year, The Racers, a soap opera with cars starring Kirk Douglas.

Of course, there is a love interest. Petite Piper Laurie, also on a career upswing, plays an up-and-coming automotive designer, making it the only real ground-breaking aspect of the film. Don Taylor plays Curtis' best friend, fellow driver, and competitor of Laurie's affection. Taylor wreaks the race car prototype and Curtis thinks he was showing off. Curtis has to eat crow when it is discovered there was an engineering malfunction in the brakes which Curtis had been warned about. But the two competitor's relationship is never the same. Much of the first reel includes the mundane happenings of engine testing with no dialogue. The stodgy automotive founder, Sidney Blackmer, wants no part of any sports car in his lineup, demanding the company stick with cars that seat six, the standard American family. But his long-time engineer, Paul Kelly, believes in Curtis' idea, which sets up an inconsequential rift between them. Blackmer softens his stance, finding a place for a sporty model in the company’s roster, after Curtis places in the top three of a long-distance rally race. 

In hindsight, perhaps the most interesting aspect today is the vintage racing sequences in period sports cars captured by cinematographer Carl Guthrie. Of note is Curtis's vehicle of choice (and the film's promotional car) is the Woodill Wildfire (above), an American-made sports car to compete alongside the Europeans. A climactic Canada to California rally race is nicely filmed from the air amid spectacular scenery. A mounted camera on the front of a filming car, weaving fast through mountain roads, is a dizzying experience. Beyond that, it is standard fare for the period with Curtis and Taylor “speeding” in their studio prop cars ahead of projected back screen competition. I imagine this was a must-see for teen fans of Curtis and Laurie with many licensed drivers leaving the theater wanting to get their hands on a Jaguar XK120.

Note: Don Taylor had a versatile career in acting but most have forgotten him due to his supporting roles. He gained more fame as a director for some of the most popular television series of the Sixties. His skills led him to direct several major films from the Seventies to the Eighties. His second marriage in 1964 was to English actress, Hazel Court, of British horror film fame. They remained together until his death did them part.