Haunted-car thriller, from a novel by Stephen King. It's love at first sight when a klutzy high-school kid lays eyes on a 1958 Plymouth Fury, with a history of violent deaths behind it. The feeling is reciprocated: the hero's enemies become the car's enemies, and his friends become its rivals. But after all, they would seem to be made for each other: the car radio plays only goldie-oldies, and the hero is a bit of a Buddy Holly lookalike, or is, anyway, until he inexplicably discards his thick-rimmed glasses, takes a personality turn for the worse, and becomes rather more of a Bobby Darin lookalike. One of the best movie possibilities -- the transformation of the car from pile of junk to like-new -- is skipped over in a couple of giant leaps. The possibilities for automobile terrorism, on the other hand, are explored diligently, but are severely limited to begin with: radio turning itself on, doors slamming, locks depressing, headlights coming on, dents mending themselves. This last effect, as if the car were made of inflatable rubber, isn't bad. With Keith Gordon; directed by John Carpenter. (1983) — Duncan Shepherd
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