Body by Plymouth. Soul by Satan.


High school loser nerd Arnie Cunningham is bullied at school, has overbearing parents, no social skills and crush on a junk yard beater, a 1958 Plymouth Fury. He names it Christine and spends all of his non-school time restoring the car to its former showroom glory. That’s one pristine Christine. Heh.


As the car comes back to life, it comes to life – and possesses Arnie. Now he’s cool and suave with a Fonzie attitude, which he uses to exact revenge on the school bullies who earlier bashed and smashed Christine and took a dump on her front seat. C’mon guys, that’s what the trunk is for. The guilty parties end up being run over and crushed by a car of some kind.


As the violence escalates, so does Arnie’s loose mental wheels and Christine’s jealousy. (An added feature on that particular model.) Every time the car is massively fender-bended, it regenerates itself. Wish my car did that. Then I wouldn’t need duct tape to hold the door on.


Arnie drives off the deep end and his friend Dennis and ex-girlfriend Leigh try to save his soul by wrecking the car. If you read Stephen King’s book from which Christine (1983) was adapted, you know how it ends. If you didn’t and can’t guess, you’re brain needs to go back to the shop for an oil change.


The subtext of the film? Don’t make cars mad, especially female ones.

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