The Cars That Ate Paris (1974)

Director:

Peter Weir

Writers:

Peter Weir (story) &
Keith Gow (story) ...

Release Date:

June 1976 (USA)

Genre:

Comedy | Horror | Mystery | Thriller

Tagline:

They run on blood.

Plot:

The small town of Paris, Australia deliberately causes car accidents, then sells/salvages all valuables from the wrecks as a means of economy.

Plot Keywords:

Small Town | Car Accident | Outsider | Crash | Automobile Chase

Cast

John Meillon	...	The Mayor
Terry Camilleri	...	Arthur Waldo
Kevin Miles	...	Dr. Midland
Rick Scully	...	George Waldo
Max Gillies	...	Metcalfe
Danny Adcock	...	Policeman
Bruce Spence	...	Charlie
Kevin Golsby	...	Insurance man
Chris Haywood	...	Darryl
Peter Armstrong	...	Gorman
Joe Burrow	...	Ganger
Deryck Barnes	...	Al Smedley
Edward Howell	...	Tringham
Max Phipps	...	Mulray
Melissa Jaffer	...	Beth

Also Known As:

Cars
Cars That Eat People (USA)

Runtime:

91 min | USA:74 min (cut)

Country:

Australia

Language:

English

Color:

Color (Eastmancolor)

Aspect Ratio:

2.35 : 1

Sound Mix:

Mono

Certification:

Netherlands:16 | USA:TV-MA (cable rating) | Australia:M | Finland:K-16 | Norway:16 | Sweden:15 | UK:15 | USA:PG

Filming Locations:

Sofala, New South Wales, Australia

Company:

Australian Film Development Corporation, The

Trivia:

The opening scenes that feature a couple driving in a car and smoking prominently displayed cigarettes were a parody of a commercial aired on Australian television at the time of the film's original release.

Goofs:

Continuity: At the end of the movie, when the Mayor gives Arthur instructions how to drive and smash the punk's car, his fake beard changes places between shots (under his chin - on his right cheek).

Quotes:

Arthur Waldo: I can drive!

Movie Connections:

Featured in True Love and Chaos (1997)

More weird than mysterious or horrific, an allegory mired in distractions

One hour into this movie and I wasn't exactly sure what kind of movie it was trying to "be". It starts off as a smalltown horror mystery of sorts but Peter Weir saddles it with so much absurdist black comedy the mystery all but evaporates and we're looking at something that is more weird/awkward than mysterious/surreal, more slow-ponderous than slow-absorbing, large parts of it reminiscent of Aki Kaurismaki and his static shots, cynical humor, deadpan delivery, and smalltown squalor. By the end of it however, the movie seems to emerge as some sort of societal parable, an allegory to the repression of a close-knit society that values appearances and tradition more than anything else and which must bury secrets in its own backyard to do so, but there's so much distraction and incoherence the point is never made with any clarity or force.

At one point the score turns Morricone circa Once Upon a Time in the West and we get a showdown in the street and young men dressed with cowboy hats. We get Carmageddon-style cars circling the statue of a cannon like Comanches painted for war. We get the vague promise of a subplot about car crash survivors turned vegetables who are kept in the hospital of the small town and who later turn up in a ball masque dressed in hoods and carton boxes (a nod to Shock Corridor?), but it never goes anywhere. Peter Weir went on to make such remarkable films as Picnic at Hanging Rock and The Last Wave, and while this never reaches the hypnotic levels of those films, it's intriguing in its own quirky awkward way. It's like a movie struggling with itself, a cult classic trying to break free from the confines of a forgettable eccentricity.