As alluded in the review of Ralph Bakshi's Cool and the Crazy (1994), coming across that film serendipitously led to the discovery of the Rebel Highway 1994 TV series, which consists of 10 feature films produced by AIP, resurrected specifically for this purpose, purportedly to pay tribute to 50s rock'n'roll/teen B movies. A becoming epitaph to AIP's ethos, what started as a lo-budget talent goldmine (Scorsese, De Niro, etc etc) ended with commissions to established directors, at or past the peak of their success, including, beside Bakshi, the likes of Robert Rodriguez (subject of today's review), John Milius, Joe Dante or William Friedkin. Excitingly, since these are TV films, these titles are often not included in their “official” filmographies, thus making the thrill of discovery all the more thrilling. Salivating in anticipation, the series today (re)starts with Roadracers (for the record, Bakshi's film was/should have been Rebel Highway IX).
Roadracers was the 2nd feature film, and first TV film, directed by Robert Rodriguez, Mexican-American director who later shot to prominence with action thrillers, often with a tongue-in cheek splatter component. His output, uneven if slick, includes the Mariachi trilogy (1993-2003), the Spy Kids franchise (2002-2011 so far and hopefully far enough) and more interestingly, From Dusk till Dawn (196, scripted by none other than Quentin Tarantino) and the Sin City diptych (2005-2014).
Roadracers tells the story of Big Lebowsky unrelated Dude (David Arquette) who cultivates his dudeness by meticulously greasing his hair, dandling half a cigarette in the right corner of his mouth, keeping his forehead unevenly contracted to ensure optimal wrinkle design, perfecting an insolent smile and reacting to oppressing cops (William Sadler) and competing would-be alpha males (Jason Wiles) with smart aleck wisecracks occasionally detrimental to physical integrity, and, not least, going steady with Donna (almost debutante Selma Hayek), which would be more than enough to occupy most lesser men's waking hours, but not Dude, who also wants to be a rock'n'roll star, incident otherwise largely irrelevant to the film's thin plot but which allows for 2 or 3 song and dance scenes.
The films look and feel is not so much 50s as MTV video clip 80s, nary and opportunity being missed to shoot closeups of Selma and/or David with window blind shadows running diagonally through their faces. Otherwise, Rodriguez's slickness is still in the brewing phase and the tongue is not close to the cheek enough for the one-liners, road races or switchblade threats to be taken neither seriously nor jokingly.
Which is, one has to admit, true to B Movie form. Rebel Highway II will be coming your way soon.