Ten Laps to Go: Mostly just guys shouting about motor patents

Is it worth your time?

If you have a soft spot for 1930s B-movies that feel like they were filmed in a dusty garage, sure. If you need pacing that makes sense or actors who aren't constantly staring at a blank space behind the camera, keep walking.

It’s really for people who enjoy seeing Yakima Canutt show up and do stuff, honestly. If you aren't into old-school stunt work, this is going to feel like a very long hour.

The whole thing kicks off with Larry Evans being the hero everyone loves. Naturally, there's a rival, Eddie, who wants his girl and his boss’s secret motor plans. It’s all very standard stuff, like something you’d see in The Good Bad Man but with more grease and fewer horses.

The wreck scene is... well, it happens. It’s not exactly high-octane. It feels more like two guys nudging each other's fenders until someone decides to pull over. Larry gets hurt and suddenly he's shaking like a leaf every time he sees a steering wheel. It’s a bit dramatic, even for a movie this old.

The weird obsession with paperwork

I didn't expect a racing movie to be so concerned with stolen blueprints. They talk about these motor designs like they're the secret to the universe. Every time they bring it up, the movie just kind of drags. I found myself wishing they’d just hop in the cars and go.

There's this moment where Larry is supposed to be chasing henchmen, but he just kind of stops. He looks sad. He looks at his hands. It’s supposed to be a deep moment of realization about his broken spirit, but it just looks like he forgot where he parked.

• Yakima Canutt is in this, which is basically the only reason to pay attention to the second act.
• The dialogue is remarkably dry.
• The race track scenes are mostly just blurry stock footage mixed with guys in hats looking concerned.

Maybe it’s not as interesting as Whispering Smith, but it’s got that weird charm of a movie that doesn't know it's being goofy. It tries so hard to be a serious sports drama about guts and glory. But then you see someone clearly driving five miles per hour on a closed set, and the illusion just vanishes.

It’s not great. It’s barely even good. But I watched the whole thing because I had to know if the motor patent mattered. (Spoiler: It really, really didn't.)