The Car is almost self-conscious in its references to the landmark blockbuster of two years previously, from the ominous music that blares out every time Bruce The Car starts to ‘stalk’ its prey to the sheriff protagonist to its rather...vague 'children’s parade’ that the Small Desert Town is treating like a big event. There’s even some strange echos of the Brody family in the interactions between James Brolin and his girlfriend Kathleen Lloyd (who looks weirdly like Sara Silverman back when Silverman was but a pre-teen).
Of course, Bruce The Shark never singled out Mrs. Brody or hung out in the Brody garage like Bruce The Car does. And Steven Speilberg didn’t claim Bruce The Shark was possessed by the devil.
There’s a continuous undercurrent of the ridiculous throughout The Car’s ninety-six minute running time, and that is compounded by the fact that this is treated One Hundred Percent Seriously. There is such a dourness that conflicts so much with the inherent silliness of the premise that it actually interferes with the storytelling. There are subplots here, like the one deputy who is driven back to alcoholism by the events of the movie or the one with the abusive husband, which both seem out of place and never go anywhere. This is the kind of film where there are moments where you think you’re supposed to laugh at, but play off as too weird to be funny (there’s a moment where a boxer-clad Brolin is engaged in sorta sexy horseplay with Lloyd while his two daughters listen in that’s just...wrong). It’s a film that falls through the cracks between comedy and tragedy, becoming something generic.
And then there’s Bruce The Car. This. Thing. Isn't. Remotely. Scary. The damn thing doesn’t even look real even though I know it’s a practical effect. It looks like a toy car writ large with no door handles, tinted yellow windows and a grill that sorta looks like a face. And since the script--written by three people--insists on, ahem, ‘humanizing’ the car with touches like yellow-filtered POV shots and the fact that it carries a grudge for one character after it’s mocked, your mind never strays from the goofiness of what’s going on. By the time Brolin and his sheriff buddies are endeavoring to box Bruce The Car in a canyon so they can Blow It Up Good (this weird little town seems populated solely by deputies and school teachers), I was just numbly watching.
I know there are some people who will say I took this flick too seriously. But it’s not, it’s the film. It is possible for a movie about a motor vehicle with no visible driver terrorizing people, even holding grudges against people and be genuinely good (I’m looking at you, Duel. With admiration. And Steven Speilberg directed that one, too!). But those films manage to find ways to avoid the silly possibilities of the premise. This film never rises over its goofy nature no matter how much it wants to.
And that’s why I am marginally not recommending The Car.
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