Someone had the brilliant idea to make John Ashley stretch as an actor. Instead, I pulled a muscle trying to keep from tossing my cookies.
The film opens with Ashley in his hot road, challenged by Steve Drexel in his hot rod. Ashley goes through a puddle and splashes an old geezer, played by Lester Dorr as an old fusspot named Philpott. Dorr yells for a cop. Russ Bender, who usually plays a motorcycle cop, plays a motorcycle cop. Bender questions two other witnesses, a father and daughter played by Doodles Weaver and Jody Fair. Fair seems to think she can recognize the culprit. Somehow they end up in Ashley's hot rod hangout, and Ashley hides out in a closet. Had he stayed there, the film would have been mercifully over. Instead, he sings. And sings. And sings some more. His finger-snapping, head-wagging, faux-Elvis style of singing is the pits. So the charges against him rise from vehicular assault to impersonating an entertainer.
Ashley turns out to be a rich kid named John Abernathy III. He lives with his two aunts, dons a pair of glasses, and pretends to be the studious type. Coincidentally, Dorr, Weaver, and Fair show up at his house for some pre-arranged meeting to fix up Ashley with Fair. Ashley tries to impress everyone with his violin skills, but his wisecracking maid, played by Claire Du Brey, will have none of it.
"I've been wrestling with Mendelssohn's Concerto in E-flat minor," Ashley informs everyone.
"Mendelssohn lost," Du Brey responds.
Fair recognizes Ashley, but, of course, isn't going to turn him in. She wants to hear more of his singing, so they sneak off to the hangout where Ashley bores us some more.
In a subplot, Ashley's gang needs money to build a hot rod for the big race. Fair informs everyone she knows singer Gene Vincent, and offers to ask him to put on a show. Vincent is impressed with Ashley's singing ability (apparently Vincent was well-paid for the part). But Ashley doesn't want to go on television because he might get recognized. So Fair makes up him with a beard and a beret. If you ever wondered how Fidel Castro would look in Paris, this is your chance to find out. Ashley is an instant hit as singer "Jackson Dalrymple." If you are keeping score, that's three roles for Ashley. In a running gag, Ashley's aunts see him sneaking into the house with his beard on, and think it's the ghost of John Abernathy I. I say it's a running gag because every time it happened, I got the runs.
In another subplot, Drexel is stealing hot rod parts and trying to frame Ashley. There is the inevitable rumble at the end (which is really just a good excuse to interrupt Ashley singing yet again), Ashley is cleared, and everybody dances to a recording of Ashley.
If you fast-forward past the singing, you can get through this opus in about 60 minutes.
This is just a mishmash of comedy, music (mostly bad), racing, and non-action. Vincent sings a few songs, and he's better than Ashley, but that's not saying much. Fair is average. Character actor Dub Taylor has a few moments playing some part which escaped me. Maureen Arthur sings something called "Choo Choo Cha Poochie," which, I believe when translated, means "Hey boys, get a load of these." On the other hand, Ashley actually does a decent job with his multiple personalities. Usually, he's just dull; however, here, he manages to rise to the level of mediocrity. Perhaps this film should have been called "The Three Faces of Ashley." But then, it would be the members of the audience, and not the star, who would need psychiatric help.
