From the 1980s through to today, the majority of car movies tend to be comfortably budgeted and widely released productions from major studios or distribution entities. Films like The Cannonball Run, Need for Speed, John Wick, and Ford v. Ferrari relied on big-money stars and massive advertising campaigns to spread awareness of the movie and bring in those box office dollars.
In the 1970s, however, the opposite was more commonly true.
Low-budget films produced through the efforts of independent companies were churned out by the dozen, often aimed at the drive-in movie crowd. They usually relied on an easy-to-digest high concept, rarely featured an actor you had ever heard of, and were less than stellar in terms of storytelling and technical proficiency. Falling into this category were such pictures as Bobby Jo and the Outlaw, Moonshine County Express, King of the Mountain, and Van Nuys Blvd.
While I have watched a number of these types of movies in the past, one that I had never heard of before recently came to my attention, and I thought for this month’s episode of Rob’s Car Movie Review, I’d give it a review.
So, without further delay, I present to you Double Nickels (1977)!
The theatrical, one-sheet movie poster for Double Nickels. (Image courtesy of Smokey Productions.)
Double Nickels was produced and distributed in the United States by Smokey Productions. Having worked on H.B. Halicki’s prior low-budget movies, the original 1974 version of Gone in 60 Seconds and he Junkman, a relative unknown, Jack Vacek, took it upon himself to try his hand at being an auteur filmmaker. He wrote, directed, produced, edited, acted, and performed stunts in the picture.
Performing alongside of Vacek was an ensemble of totally unknown actors, including Trice Schubert, Edward Abrahms, Heidi Schubert, George Cole, Tex Taylor, and Mick Brennan.
Shot in my current place of residence, Malibu, California, and other locations in the Los Angeles area on a micro-budget of $150,000, Double Nickels tells the story of a pair of California Highway Patrolmen, Smokey (Vacek) and Ed (Abrahms), who monitor a strip of the US1 Pacific Coast Highway.
Jack Vacek as the main protagonist, California Highway Patrolman, Smokey. (Photo courtesy of Smokey Productions.)
A chance encounter with a speeder, George (Cole) who purports to be in the auto repossession business, leads Smokey and Ed to moonlight for George, ostensibly taking back sports and luxury cars that the owners have failed to make payments on.
The two lawmen prove highly adept at boosting cars, successfully outwitting the owners, and on a couple of occasions, the police, whom they must stay clear of, since moonlighting is against Highway Patrol policy.
All is going well as the two rake in the extra dollars to supplement their Highway Patrol paychecks, until Smokey and Ed discover that the cars they have been reclaiming were not, in fact, being financed by any financial institution. They confront George with this information, who promises to question the man who has been bankrolling his repossession business.
Edward Abrahms as Highway Patrolman, Ed. (Photo courtesy of Smokey Productions.)
George delivers a car personally to his backer, Lewis Sloan (Taylor), and queries the man about the nature of his business. Sloan, in a not-so-veiled threat, tells George to mind his own business, prompting George to tell Smokey and Ed that he believes they have all unwittingly gotten themselves mixed up in an auto theft ring.
Realizing their jobs and their very freedom is in Jeopardy, Smokey, Ed, and George go to Sloan’s home and take back one of the cars they had previously boosted. Subsequently, a high-speed pursuit develops between our protagonists and Sloan, setting up a climactic final act that will decide who prevails.
Double Nickels is perhaps the quintessential 1970s B-movie, as it contains all the aforementioned technical deficiencies of the species and much more.
George the repo man, portrayed by George Cole. (Photo courtesy of Smokey Productions.)
For starters, to my eye, the film was likely shot on Super-16mm and blown up to 35mm for distribution to reduce film stock costs. As a result, the movie is left with a squarish aspect-ratio and huge globs of grain in the image. The version I watched was probably transferred from a very old print that had color-shifted over the years, as the color palate leans heavily towards magenta. I actually didn’t mind this so much, as it lends the film a seedy, 1970s look that films like Boogie Nights strived to recreate decades later.
The other technical aspects, such as the live sound recordings and editing, are also quite poor. Sometimes, you simply cannot hear the dialogue or follow the action. Sloppy jump cuts and abrupt scene exits are scattered throughout.
As was the case in the previously mentioned 1974 incarnation of Gone in 60 Seconds, the acting is pretty much abysmal, with the often laughable and ludicrous written words from the screenplay not doing the thespians any favors.
Tex Taylor as auto theft kingpin, Lewis Sloan. (Photo courtesy of Smokey Productions.)
Likewise, the story itself is nothing to write home about, either. The idea that a pair of cops could not see what they were getting themselves into with the repossession scheme is fairly ridiculous and fails to suspend disbelief. The tone of the story also shifts incongruously from drama to over-the-top slapstick comedy at times.
Having just trashed the film, you might find it incredible that I managed to enjoy it to a degree.
The movie’s running time is a mere 88 minutes, so it doesn’t represent a major ask for your time. On a personal level, it was fun for me to see how Malibu’s scenery and landmarks had changed over the decades before I moved here.
The movie aptly captures the halcyon lifestyle of 1970s Southern California. (Photo courtesy of Smokey Productions.)
The movie also acts as a snapshot of 1970s Southern California in the laconic, beach-and-sun-and-chicks-in-bikinis lifestyle that it presents. Hillarious and kitschy are the hairstyles, mustaches, and wide-lapeled, open shirts and bell-bottomed jeans throughout. Gen-Xers like me just love that stuff as it reminds us of our childhoods.
What’s more, the movie delivers in spades in terms of the automotive action.
While we are not presented with multitudes of raucous, high-end muscle cars from the era, likely because the film’s miniscule budget didn’t permit procuring them, we are treated to a few icons of the period.
Smokey drives this awesome 1968 Chevy Chevelle SS in the film’s climactic chase sequence. (Photo courtesy of Smokey Productions.)
The two best cars are the ones that are used in the 17-minute car chase that ends the movie: a 1968 Chevy Chevelle SS and a ‘73 Chevrolet Corvette C3.
The Chevelle, driven by Smokey, is unusual in that it is painted in code MM Burnished Saddle Metallic, a rare medium brown color, with white over-the-top stripes. It features aftermarket mag wheels, a black interior, and, as we see multiple times, is equipped with a manual transmission, which Smokey aggressively rows.
The C3 is driven by Sloan, who consistently chomps on a cigar while sawing at the steering wheel, with his henchman in the passenger seat occasionally leaning out of the window to fire off rounds at Smokey’s car with his .45.
Lewis Sloan uses this Bright Orange ’73 Corvette to pursue Smokey. (Photo courtesy of Smokey Productions.)
The ‘Vette looks fantastic in code 86 Bright Orange with a black interior, and is an automatic transmission car. Sadly, we never get a look under the hood of either car, but do hear their V8s roar throughout the spectacular pursuit.
Another car that features prominently in the film is Smokey’s dilapidated 1957 Chevrolet Task-Force 3100 series pick-up.
Smokey’s 1957 Chevrolet Task-Force 3100 series pick-up is used in a chase sequence in the Los Angeles River. (Photo courtesy of Smokey Productions.)
Seemingly ancient and covered in peeling paint and primer, the truck features a manual transmission and is involved in multiple chase sequences, including one in the Los Angeles River.
Other vehicles in the movie include multiple Cadillacs, a wild dune buggy, 1970s-style custom vans, super-cool 1974 Dodge Monaco and ’72 Plymouth Satellite police cars, George’s gorgeous 1977 Mercedes-Benz 450 SEL, a 1966 Lincoln Continental with suicide doors, and Smokey’s 1975 Norton Commando 750 for motorcycle fans.
Though far from being a hot car, I’d be remiss in not mentioning the 1971 Ford Pinto that Ed escapes from the cops in by driving it down several flights of stairs. Quite a stunt!
Even the movie’s police cars, like this 1972 Plymouth Satellite are cool. (Photo courtesy of Smokey Productions.)
If you go into Double Nickels forewarned that it is no Citizen Kane and that it possesses some of the worst technical and storytelling facets of 1970s low-budget filmmaking, it’s not impossible to enjoy the movie.
I tend to liken it to something you might watch if it was the only thing on TV at 3 am or if you were sick in bed. For all its bad acting and implausible plot machinations, it does nostalgically capture a Southern California that once existed and has some enviable cars and superb pursuits in it.
As such, I give Jack Vacek’s magnum opus five out of ten pistons.
