Here's a strange concoction. The Junkman, from automobile-obsessed H.B. Halicki, comes across foremost as a loud, amateurish commercial for the director's more successful Gone in 60 Seconds. This "film" begins with a photo montage chronicling the rise to fame of 60 Seconds star Harlan Hollis (Halicki), the loss of his wife in a car crash, his touchy-feely relationship with his teen daughter Kelly, all the way to his filming of the sequel to 60 Seconds. But all that doesn't really have much to do with this movie, the plot of which is only the barest of devices to chain together a series of long, long, looooong tumultuous car chases.

Although the proceedings involve assassins (one of whom resembles Linda Carter), a James Dean festival, a nubile teenage daughter, the Goodyear Blimp, and a threat to bomb Hollywood's Cineramadome, you won't care much about any of that. If you're interested in this DVD, you're more concerned with its record-breaking number of wrecked cars, trucks, motorcycles, and planes. (The cover proudly proclaims that the film holds the Guinness World Record for that number.) It's a shame, then, that much of the automobile stuntwork is simply that—stuntwork performed by earnest and obviously talented stuntmen with little knowledge of how to put together a comprehensible film. The result is an inbred feel, choked with cornball writing and headache-inducing ADD editing. The camerawork and editing, in particular, provide no continuous sense of movement and direction, so that cars are coming and going, left and right, at random. It's difficult to tell who's who.

I'm sure I would have valued this movie more had it been put together as simply a compilation of great stunts. Instead, amateurish acting and an inconsequential plot seemingly strung together on the spot make this difficult to endure. After a while, I tried to divorce myself from the story. Tough to do, but I managed it for a while. And I started appreciating some of the stuntwork. At least five of the crashes left me shaking my head in wonder and admiration. But oh, the long silly stretches between those shots....

Gone in 60 Seconds is referenced every 10 minutes or so, complete with an appearance by the central car Eleanor, beat-up and in storage. Early on, that self-referential "movie-within-a-movie' thing is amusing, but it wears thin when it becomes a marketing tool for the earlier movie.

HOW'S IT LOOK?

The Junkman is presented in non-anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen. Despite the non-anamorphic transfer, the image quality is fairly stable, with generally nice detail, although there's a tendency toward softness. Colors are natural (if a tad washed out), but blacks seem murky. In scenes of darkness (of which there are few), detail suffers. I noticed many instances of digital jag.

The DVD offers three audio options. All exhibit a slight loss of fidelity for this 1982 film. Dialog suffers the most, while music remains nicely punchy. The first option is the original stereo presentation, which offers nice separation across the front but the weakest lower-end presence. The remastered Dolby Digital 5.1 track ratchets up the bass, which infuses the explosions and crashes with needed oomph. Finally, the DTS 5.1 track (switchable on the fly) is the presentation that I enjoyed the most. Surround separation was more precise (providing nice directional envelopment to whizzing airplanes and screaming cars), and the bass was just a bit more there.

WHAT ELSE IS THERE?

First up is a vintage 21-minute "The Making of The Junkman," hosted by the late Halicki himself. He basically walks us stunt-by-stunt through the making of the movie. Halicki tries sincerely to pump some automobile-related humor into this piece, and I'm sure there are people out there who will eat it up, but it left me cold, making me feel as if I was watching the main feature all over again.

Next up are 24 still-frame photo "featurettes" that take you behind the scenes of key scenes in the movie. The accompanying music is pure cheese, like something out of an early-80s porno flick. I actually liked the way this feature was put together, though, and would love to see it done for a major film.

Another major feature is a series of "Interviews with Special Friends." These friends are Tony Ostermeier (airplane pilot), George Barris ("custom car legend"), Bob Urhausen and Nick Nicolary (Goodyear Blimp manager and pilot), Tony Syslo (director of photography), and Warner Leighton and P.J. Webb (editor and assistant editor). Each 3-5-minute clip shows snippets from the movie as the interviewee talks about his or her contribution. They all have fairly amusing stories to tell about the production, mostly focusing on Halicki.

A lively audio commentary from Tony Syslo and production manager Jack Vacek proves to be the most entertaining feature. They fill their audio track with fond remembrances of the stunts and the filming, enjoying a nice banter with each other. This is a "Remember that guy?" type of commentary, with no pauses, and many instances of one guy talking over the other, to humorous effect.

Rounding out the special features are a series of fullframe trailers—three for The Junkman, a pretty cool one for Gone in 60 Seconds, and one for Deadline Auto Theft.

A final note: Denice Halicki, H.B.'s widow, introduces the feature and the main featurette.

A few cool slow-motion stunts and a bazillion crashes don't a great movie make. Fans of this odd genre will value this feature-packed edition, though.