Bolides de la mort

Man, oh, man! What a bizarre pic! Okay, lessee... the plot has something to do with corruption by the mob among some stock car racers... there's an obligatory catfight and some drug references. But the part you'll most remember is this totally wacked-out 5 minute middle section of the film that takes place in a bar with toilets instead of seats where a man sings a song to a poodle, a woman comes in with clothes and face makeup that makes her look like a walking checkered race flag, and when the cash register is opened it makes the sound of a toilet flushing... it goes on for a bit and makes no logical sense at all! You'll think someone dosed your Doritos when you see this thing! Then it's back to the story as if nuttin' happened! There's performances by an r&b singer and some gawdawful boy / girl vocal combo singing "Love Can Make You Happy"! There's a sign next to the band that says "The LSD For Lunch Bunch"! Ah, the '60s... John Russell and Allan Nixon star with Lon Chaney, Jr.! Why do people hate this movie so much? Probably because of the poor state of Lon Chaney, Jr. whom I am also a big fan of. I actually thought he was quite good in this! From the director of Shanty Tramp!

Stupid plot, stupid dialog, stupider situations, all leading up to a really stupid car chase at the end. This is the kind of stuff that gets purposefully left off of resumes. I saw this back in 69 as part of a double feature (they used to show you two movies for the price of one--really, it was standard operations.) I don't remember the other movie because it wasn't nearly as dumb. But somehow I seem to remember having to watch this turkey twice--no doubt the fault of my then-girlfriend, who would drag me out of movies because she couldn't follow the plot. I thought of this film immediately when I learned that IMDB has a "Bottom 100" list. This needs to be included.

I love the movie. My biological parents were in the movie. Since I was adopted out in Tampa as an infant, finding this movie was a God Send. I got to at least see my dad. He is in the bar scene listening to the band.

Campy and not great but for me...it is everything.

In early 1968, Americana Entertainment Association was formed in Tampa Florida primarily for one solitary motion picture, "Fireball Jungle," Tampa-based producer G. B. Roberts' follow up to his successful black and white "The Weird World of LSD," bringing aboard sexploitation director Joseph P. Mawra, whose titles included "Olga's House of Shame," "White Slaves of Chinatown," "Olga's Girls," "Mme. Olga's Massage Parlor," "The Peek Snatchers," and "Shanty Tramps," his most recent title "Savages from Hell," a shift toward biker violence in the wake of Roger Corman's "The Wild Angels" (shot in Naples Florida). This was the sole collaboration between these Sunshine State filmmakers, only one further credit for each before fading into obscurity, gathering together elements of exploitation such as drugs, biker violence, car crashes, and even a couple of musical numbers. We're barely 10 minutes in when the local group Mercy shows up to perform their lone smash "Love (Can Make You Happy)," which only hit the national charts in April 1969 (#2 on Billboard), its B-side ironically titled "Fire Ball" (one year after this film was made). The other number is from Little Tiny Kennedy, a little known female impersonator who sounds a bit like Louis Armstrong, and recorded a couple of tracks in 1952 with orchestra leader Tiny Bradshaw for Trumpet Records (he apparently belts out the title tune over the opening credits). Those bar/club scenes are the film's nadir, patrons decked out in horribly dated psychedelia, coupled with stools shaped like toilet seats, and a cash register made to sound like it's flushing! With all that it's likely the picture was not a success, barely seen over the decades, but Roberts and Mawra did manage to corral a pair of professional Hollywood veterans, direct from the Western set of Paramount's "Buckskin," top billed John Russell, and second billed Lon Chaney, in equally small roles. The actual lead is a dimwitted driver in the 'fireball jungle' of stock car racing known as Cateye Meares (Allan Mixon), a real scumbag whose supply of cash, cars, clothes, and girls come from mob kingpin Nero Solitarius (Russell), in exchange for providing his syndicate with stolen vehicles (shades of Lon Chaney's 1942 "Eyes of the Underworld") fenced through the auto parts junkyard owned by Sammy (Chaney, claiming in the pressbook that this film is 'my best since "High Noon"!). Russell's participation is limited to three scenes, while the downtrodden Chaney's appearance is shocking to see, as the junk dealer who desperately wants out of this crooked business, his physical condition made to look worse by the obvious deterioration of his voice, ravaged by the same throat cancer that killed his father. Sitting around drinking cans of beer, comforted only by his dog, Sammy is a pathetic figure, Chaney occasionally echoing his effective TV performance of 12 years before in TELEPHONE TIME's "The Golden Junkman," lapsing into broken English at times. He had clearly seen better days, and with only Al Adamson's features still ahead was admittedly well cast as a tragically sad figure. Other titles for this obscurity were "Jungle Terror" and "Race Against Death," all of the racing scenes stock footage from Hialeah and Palm Beach Fairgrounds Speedway, seen only at the beginning and end.

I recently went to a friend's house with a group to see a rare copy of this atrocity, which he managed to dig up on DVD-R and screened on his DVD projector. I'm not really much of a drinker, but during the course of this evening I knew what to expect with Chaney Jr. and therefore decided to get toasted for a change, drinking four bottles of beer. Not much, really, but for me it had the desired effect! This was supposedly Lon Chaney Jr.'s truly last film, and it's a really horrid piece of garbage. But was it truly Chaney's LAST? I've heard at varying times that either THE FEMALE BUNCH or perhaps Dracula VS. FRANKENSTEIN were Lon's Swan Song(s). Oh well....

Anyway ---- FIREBALL JUNGLE had us rolling, and I was so buzzed by the time it started that it was like some sort of bizarre acid trip, with a sick and bloated Chaney popping up every now and then guzzling beer (what else?) which was fetched by his faithful dog. It was supposedly a race car flick, but only mere moments into it none of us could make head nor tail out of just WHAT THE HELL it actually was! Was it a race car movie? A psychedelic relic? I must tell you it was quite surreal sitting there laughing at the ineptitude of the film, all the while drinking beer myself while watching the seldom-on screen Chaney doing the same thing, flipping open his flip-top cans and guzzling away! At one point someone in the audience commented on how "sad" Chaney was, and I suppose had I not been bombed I might have felt the same; as it was, I was just eating (or rather, drinking) this up! One other guy in our group had a worse buzz on, as he wound up in the bathroom tossing his cookies a couple of times. This was much more entertaining than the movie. 0 out of ****