Coming
at the tail end of the Ozploitation era, Brian Trenchard-Smith's
1986 movie Dead End Drive-In could have almost
been designed as a closing statement for the time. There's something
for every Ozploitation fans here, it seems, with all the period's
obsessions thrown in – cars, explosions, post-apocalyptic
punks, fist fights, gratuitous nudity, ockers, racism, social
comment and a distinctly Aussie style of youth culture –
not to mention scenes from Trenchard-Smith's previous movies
including Turkey Shoot and The Man
from Hong Kong. It's like the whle era boiled down
into a single film.
The film is, essentially, Escape from New York
meets Mad Max, set in a near future where the
world is in a state of permanent economic collapse, crime is
running rampant and corrupt governments are thinking of ever-more
devious ways of controlling the population. When Jimmy (Ned
Manning) and Carmen (Natalie McCurry) visit a drive-in –
out in the middle of nowhere, accessible only by S (for security)
roads where walking is a felony – they find themselves
trapped after their wheels are stolen – by the police,
as it turns out. It quickly becomes apparent that the drive-ins
have been converted into concentration camps for 'undesirables'
– some of whom have turned up voluntarily to take advantage
of the food and shelter. While Carmen soon adapts to life in
the drive-in, making friends and joining their protests against
a group of Asians who are bussed in – Jimmy is determined
to get back to the life he had outside.
While the film seems to revel in its trashiness, there's more
going on in Dead End Drive-In than you might
expect. The whole idea of the drive-in acting as a honey trap
for delinquent youths who cheerfully, if unwittingly, enter
the prison for a movie and to get laid is a smart one, and the
sprawling, dystopian landscape of the sprawling camp –
every bit as bleak and burned out as anything in Mad
Max 2 – is impressive. While the world we see
outside might not seem that different from our own,
once inside the drive-in (or at least, in the daylight) this
looks like the end of the world.
As
with many of the best exploitation films, this movie works both
on the surface level – boobs, bangs, battery – and
on a sharper, socially satirical scale. It hammers home the
point a bit too much at times – the complaints about the
Asians 'invading' what is already a prison is a somewhat heavy-handed
metaphor in an Australian film perhaps. But on the whole, the
film plays the action straight. Trenchard-Smith and writer Peter
Smalley might have their tongues in their cheeks, but they know
better than to make the film too overtly knowing. In the end,
this is a movie aimed at the drive-in crowd, and it certainly
delivers, with some spectacular car stunts, an impressive cricket
bat fight and McCurry's fantastically unnecessary tit flash.
It's not all good – the film opens with one of
the most painfully Eighties theme songs you will ever here,
and the soundtrack continues in that vein for the rest of the
film. Performances are mostly forgettable, and the voices don't
seem to match the actors, oddly. But it's to the credit of the
director – an Ozploitation veteran who has made some great
films and some truly awful ones – that none of this is
really a distraction.
If you were to only watch one Ozploitation movie – well,
let's face it, that movie would be Mad Max 2.
But if you want a film that gives you more of a feel for the
movies of the era, then Dead End Drive-In is
as good a place to look as any.
Coming
at the tail end of the Ozploitation era, Brian Trenchard-Smith's
1986 movie Dead End Drive-In could have almost
been designed as a closing statement for the time. There's something
for every Ozploitation fans here, it seems, with all the period's
obsessions thrown in – cars, explosions, post-apocalyptic
punks, fist fights, gratuitous nudity, ockers, racism, social
comment and a distinctly Aussie style of youth culture –
not to mention scenes from Trenchard-Smith's previous movies
including Turkey Shoot and The Man
from Hong Kong. It's like the whle era boiled down
into a single film.
As
with many of the best exploitation films, this movie works both
on the surface level – boobs, bangs, battery – and
on a sharper, socially satirical scale. It hammers home the
point a bit too much at times – the complaints about the
Asians 'invading' what is already a prison is a somewhat heavy-handed
metaphor in an Australian film perhaps. But on the whole, the
film plays the action straight. Trenchard-Smith and writer Peter
Smalley might have their tongues in their cheeks, but they know
better than to make the film too overtly knowing. In the end,
this is a movie aimed at the drive-in crowd, and it certainly
delivers, with some spectacular car stunts, an impressive cricket
bat fight and McCurry's fantastically unnecessary tit flash.
