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5.3/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 5.3/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. High Gear remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you're into the kind of 1930s B-movie that smells like old celluloid and earnest intentions, you'll probably find High Gear charming enough. If you’re here for actual, heart-pounding racing footage, prepare for a bit of a letdown. It’s a quiet, talky little flick that spends way more time in the garage than on the track.
James Murray plays Mark 'High Gear' Sherrod with that specific brand of hangdog exhaustion that only guys in 1933 could really pull off. He’s lost his nerve, which is the polite way of saying he’s scared to death of going fast anymore. The movie isn't interested in the mechanics of racing, really. It’s interested in how a guy who used to be a hero feels when he’s just another guy in a taxi.
The whole thing feels a bit like a companion piece to something like Black Oxfords, where the stakes are small but the emotions are loud. The kid, played by Douglas Haig, is there to tug at the heartstrings, and boy, does the movie pull hard. Sometimes it feels like they’re pulling the strings until they snap.
There’s a weird, lopsided pace to the middle act. It just kind of sits there. You see Sherrod driving his cab, you see him talking to the reporter, and for a solid twenty minutes, I wasn't even sure if he was going to get back in a race car at all. It felt like the movie just wanted to hang out in the diner for a bit.
The dialogue is snappy in that old-school way, but sometimes it’s just a lot of noise. There’s a scene where the reporter is badgering him, and it’s meant to be romantic tension, but it mostly just feels like she’s trying to solve a puzzle he isn't ready to let her touch. I actually liked that bit. It felt a little more grounded than the usual 'boy meets girl' script.
Watching this made me think of the tone in The Kid's Clever, where the world feels small and manageable, almost like a stage play. It lacks the scope of a real epic, but it has a certain integrity. It’s not trying to be a masterpiece. It’s just trying to tell a story about a guy who needs to drive fast to feel like himself again. 🏁
One reaction shot toward the end, when he’s finally back behind the wheel, lingers for about three seconds too long. You can see the actor trying to remember his next line, or maybe he’s just tired. Either way, it’s a funny little moment of humanity in a film that’s otherwise pretty buttoned-up.
IMDb —
1927
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