Well, it's been about five months since my last review, and you've probably just finished rinsing the bitter taste of my last few reviews from your collective senses. Think again, gentle readers: I'm back, and my questionable taste in cinematic entertainment has not wavered in the slightest. All it took was the mention of another cheap-ass '70s car-crash movie, and your humble author promptly got wood. Now that you've digested that lovely image, let's have a look at the tasty morsel which scooted so smoothly from my dented, shit-covered mailbox last weekend.

The mere inclusion of David Carradine in any film is enough to pique my interest - I was one of the enlightened who never doubted Dave's status as Supreme King Kool long before Tarantino convinced everyone else with KILL BILL. This untouchable coolness was heralded by my beloved Kung Fu lunchbox and Tai Chi workout tapes, and did not falter throughout the lean periods of direct-to-video crapola. But it doesn't end there. Along for the ride, we have most of the returning crew from the immortal DEATH RACE 2000 - including director Paul Bartel, bless his pudgy soul - and quite a few of the supporting cast, plus Roger Corman's stable of familiar faces. Now put everybody behind the wheel of bitchin' muscle cars, Ferraris and tricked-out vans, and you have the nitro cocktail that is CANNONBALL. In the words of one of the film's more colorful characters: "Better than spinach. Better than furburgers. Better than possum." I have no fucking idea what that means, by the way, but it sounds like something I'd probably say incessantly if I'd heard it in grade school. In the '70s, of course.

Yeah, I know, here he goes again, you're saying, off on another nostalgia trip. Well, since I'm a bit rusty here, I planned on sparing you the usual annoying personal anecdotes or ruminations on the glory days of drag racing. So suck my Holly double-pumper.

Anyway, there's David Carradine, right? Just like DEATH RACE 2000, he's a legendary cross-country racing superstar. Except this time it's not the future - it's just 1976 - and he usually doesn't kill pedestrians. Nope, Dave swapped his kinky Frankenstein leathers for bandanna and moccasins to play the title character, Coy "Cannonball" Buckman, a more down-to-earth racing legend, whose status is hinted at by the wide-eyed reaction of fans at the very mention of his name. (I guess we'll just have to take their word for it.) Coy, his mechanic/best pal Zippo (Archie Hahn) and parole officer/girlfriend Linda (Veronica Hamel, prior to "Hill Street Blues" fame) are joined by dozens of pro, semi-pro and totally-not-pro drivers who, signaled by a cryptic newspaper ad, cue up for the next "Transcontinental Grand Prix," an illegal race from Santa Monica to New York City, in which anyone with four wheels can participate.

The assembled competitors are a wacky bunch: we get the wonderfully slinky Mary Woronov (reworking her "Calamity Jane" character from DR2K) and her two gal-pals in a righteous blue van; a jive-talking con man driving a black Continental for an unwitting elderly couple; a clean-cut pair of surfer kids (David's younger bro Robert and Corman regular Belinda Belaski) in a silver Stingray; James Keach wielding a silly Gestapo-type accent as a European competitor with a lemon-cream Pantera; and a portly dad in the family Bronco, who we learn is cheating in more ways than one.

And of course, it wouldn't be a racing flick without the presence of our hero's chief rival - in this case, bad dude Cade Wexman (Bill McKinney, who made a career of playing rugged asshole types). True to form, Cade wears black leather and shades, drives a jet-black Mopar monster, drinks Olympia by the case, picks fights, breaks stuff, and hates Coy's guts for some undefined reason. He's accompanied on the race by a clueless, dandified C&W crooner (the always funny Gerrit Graham), who sings a hilariously bad tune that seems to go on forever.

On the sidelines is Coy's older brother Benny, whose gambling debts force him to resort to anything - including murder - to ensure Coy wins. Benny is played by Dick Miller, thus adhering to the cardinal rule of New World Pictures wherein it is written "Thou shalt include a minor role for Dick Miller in thy film, for Dick Miller is the Anointed One, fuckers." The cast is rounded out (in more ways than one) with sexed-up kewpie doll Louisa Moritz (Stallone's squeaky blonde sidekick in DR2K), and film & radio legend Judy Canova.

Okay, there's your players. The rest is exactly what you'd expect: the aforementioned folks drive real fast from point A to point B; crashes, fights, and the usual Cormanesque antics ensue, to the accompaniment of groovy funk-rock; girls take their tops off (though amazingly for a film of this type, there's no actual nudity); David dishes out some minor kung fu; and lots of things explode. What more to you want from a New World picture? Well, okay, if you're going to press the issue... the PG-rated content (Blue Underground mistakenly slapped an R rating on my screener) hampers the obvious exploitation potential, but since Bartel already covered the same ground with loads of graphic violence and sex in DR2K, you can always get your fix there.

So why did Corman & Co. bother with what's essentially DEATH RACE LITE? Good question. Participants on both sides of the camera didn't approach the material with nearly same gusto as the previous film: Carradine looks like his mind's on anything but his role (he probably had some laundry to do back at the dojo or something); Bartel, who wasn't really fond of cars, was worried about being locked into an endless loop of crash-em-up flicks for New World (he wisely opted out of the forthcoming DEATHSPORT), and is just goofing around here. Fortunately for us, that's what makes things interesting.

Apparently when Bartel got bored with a gig, he started wandering off into fairly goofy territory, and this film is a perfect example. For instance, he wrote a nice part for himself as a two-bit mobster with Cole Porter aspirations and no real musical talent, who sings an apologetic tune to Dick Miller as his thugs beat the living crap out of him. He also managed to bring a few of his industry pals aboard for a grab-bag of fun cameos. It's a movie-geek's dream come true to see the late, infamous Don Simpson (Bartel's co-writer here) doing a scene with Corman in the D.A.'s office, and along the way the learned observer can spot Joe Dante, Allan Arkush and Jonathan Kaplan, who worked together on the immortal classic HOLLYWOOD BOULEVARD. And maybe I was high, but I'd swear I saw Bartel sharing a bucket of chicken with Martin Scorsese and Sly Stallone. Well, of course I was high, but I'm still pretty sure that scene exists.

The fine folks at Blue Underground do their usual bang-up job with a killer presentation. The anamorphically enhanced widescreen image is sharp and restores the bold candy colors of the gorgeous vehicles (including twin red Trans Ams and a sweet green Mustang); the print is amazingly clean, and the sweeping aerial shots of rolling highways (Southern California stood in for most of the country, except for some second-unit pickups in NYC) are complimented by the widescreen framing. The soundtrack is newly enhanced with spacious 5.1 and stereo mixes, both of which include excellent directional effects which heighten the thrill of the racing scenes (the original mono track is also available for purists with no social lives).

Topping things off is a short interview with David Carradine, Mary Woronov and Roger Corman in which we learn a lot about the inner workings of the late, great Bartel (including a few rare glimpses at his abortive dream project, FRANKENCAR), and discover that, understandably, none of them were quite as enthused with the project as they had been on DEATH RACE 2000; also included is New World's typically overblown trailer (although I'll admit, this film does deliver on its hype) and TV spots, and a couple of rare behind-the-scenes photos. All in all, a nice, respectful package for a fun little picture, and any car-movie or B-movie buff should buy a copy. Owning it will make you much cooler and probably help you get laid.