This juvenile, bland flick is strictly for teenagers in old mens' bodies, desperate to relive their hormonally challenged teenage years. How ? By burning up gas and equating a fast, reckless car (or plane) with freedom.<br /><br />The plot borrows heavily from Mister Rogers' neighborhood (if it were run my an oil conglomerate) and Logan's Run (if it were heavily sedated and lacked a clear sense of style).<br /><br />Starring Lee Majors and Burgess Meredith this film is set in a post-gas-crisis world in which an all-powerful government doesn't want you to (*ahem*) drive your car and burn gas. Sort of the opposite of today's Enron-and-Bush, oil-grabbing, SUV-pushing government.<br /><br />This juxtaposition alone makes the film laughable. But wait...there's more. Although the film is set in the future, we're not shown any signs of future technology, beyond a return to bicycles, golf carts and horses. You will believe that the future looks... exactly like today. Same clothing, same suburban houses, same green lawns as today and when the film was made. There are no solar panels, no windmills, no concessions to alternate energy.<br /><br />The acting is flat and flavorless. Even scenes which could have been gritty or moving, buddy-flick, honor, romance, horror... all fall flatter than a paper doll under a briefcase.<br /><br />Continuity is lacking-- the jet flown by Burgess Meredith's character changes colors and configuration from moment to moment as the filmmakers insult our intelligence with unmatched stock footage again and again.<br /><br />The plot is as moronic and only half as exciting as a Dukes of Hazzard episode.<br /><br />Even die-hard car-film and SF fans should avoid this film like month-old roadkill, unless you enjoy heckling Exxon executives trying to make a movie as empty as the hero's gas tank.