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source: Speedway

The King completed this final entry in a series of strictly formulaic, virtually cookie-cutter musical movies before shifting gears (a little!) into more varied fare. Here he is cast (as he was several times prior) as a race car driver, this time stock cars. He's highly successful at it, so it comes as a surprise when he realizes he owes the government a large sum of back taxes! It turns out his manager buddy Bixby hasn't exactly been handling his finances with the best of care. On hand to investigate Presley and to facilitate a budget for him to live on is frosty, but attractive, Sinatra. He finds little luck in getting her to release his own purse strings, but does make some degree of headway in the romance department, but not without some misunderstandings. Presley looks great and sports a couple of iconic looking jackets with white racing stripes on them. He's in good voice, too, and manages decent chemistry with his female love interest. Sinatra performs a solo (and is the only artist who ever had his or her solo included on an original Presley soundtrack album), but otherwise just has a little bit to sing in one of his numbers. An actual duet between the two would have been terrific to see and hear. Sinatra's clothes range from far out to strangely dowdy and viewers will marvel at her interestingly highlighted hair. Bixby is quite over the top and has hair problems of his own. It's lightened to a rather icky shade. Gordon, best known for his TV work with Lucille Ball, plays Sinatra's boss and has little to work with, though he does appear in a production number at the IRS office. Other cast members include Schallert as a hard up, widowed friend of Presley's who has five very young daughters and an underused Hagen as a rival racer. Ponce, a supporting player on TV's "Hawaiian Eye," appears as comic relief in the pit crew. A few real-life stock car racers appear very briefly as themselves. There's also an eye-catching diner, run by Ballantine, in which guests are served in converted cars. The typical assembly of butt-swinging, vividly attired dancers is also present. It's the typical undemanding, fluffy, contrived type of film that simultaneously made Elvis and sent his film career into the toilet. Everything is clean, colorful and pretty which, looking back at it from today, is refreshing. It's just a shame that it's also awfully predictable, plodding and pedestrian as well.