Review of Dead End Drive-In (1986) by Justin B — 12 Feb 2015

Brian Trenchard-Smith's despotic film, set primarily within the confines of a drive-in theatre, falls short of its potential. The premise and elements of execution serves as a strong political fable, but there's a lot of wasteful dialogue to pad around the action, giving likeable hero Crabs, a spunky though nonetheless shaky Ned Manning, little to do. In this concentration camp, overseen by the questionable Thompson (Peter Whitford, the strongest performer here), Crabs is an outcast amongst outcasts and social deviants (a ridiculously annoying Wilbur Wilde amongst them) whose true colours are exposed with the arrival of a truckload of new Asian detainees. Unfortunately, the themes and social commentary raised in 'Dead End Drive-In' remain relevant three decades later and would have delivered more of a forceful punch had Peter Smalley's screenplay, from a short story by Peter Carey, been tighter.

Aesthetically, the production looks incredible. Makeup, costumes and set design create an alternative vision of a contemporary world; Paul Murphy's cinematography with Alan Lake and Lee Smith's skilful editing give the film depth and a sense of purpose. The score is a product of its time and a guilty pleasure - how did Lisa Edwards' end credits track 'Playing with Fire' not become a hit single!?

Abundant with bogans, boobs and bad acting, 'Dead End Drive-In' has all the qualities of being a bona fide B-grade cult classic. It already has, apparently, received fanfare from Quentin Tarantino.