Fred Gagliardo always knew what his first car would be. That it came with a bad attitude and a killer reputation only made him want it more. By Paul Rodger.
Posters for the movie Christine warned, “Some cars are born bad.” This wasn’t a movie about buying a lemon. It was far worse than that. Christine was a demonic ’58 Plymouth Fury who bewitched her owner, Arnie Cunningham, and would slay anyone who tried to come between them.
All gleaming chrome and huge fins, the car was an American classic in every sense. Yet, beneath her shiny exterior, Christine was a vindictive serial killer. Never before has a seemingly inanimate object conveyed so much beauty and menace on screen at the same time.
When the film came out in 1983 Fred Gagliardo was only a boy and probably wouldn’t have seen it at such a young age if not for his older brother, who had a copy of the film. It kindled an obsession.
Even as a youngster, Fred told his parents he would buy a Plymouth like the one featured in Christine. Years later, he remained good to his word. He began an exhaustive search on the internet and after two-and-a-half years, finally found one for sale in Chicago, Illinois. He made arrangements to export the car to Australia and it arrived in 2006, much to his delight. It has ‘terrorised’ Adelaide’s inhabitants ever since.
Christine was the star of John Carpenter’s 1983 film, but the eponymous anti-hero was not the first car to star in a movie. Others before it included Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and the Herbie series. Then there were films in which the car played such an important supporting role that it stole the show. Think of the Mini Coopers in The Italian Job, Steve McQueen’s Ford GT Mustang in Bullitt or even, more recently, the malfunctioning 1973 VW Transporter in Little Miss Sunshine.
But the Oscar for best performance by a four-wheeler must surely go to the 1961 Ferrari 250 GT California Spyder in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (for all those who winced when it was launched down an embankment in one of the final scenes, rest assured the destroyed vehicle was a replica).
Christine struck fear into the hearts of a generation of horror fans. Few would have known, however, that the car they were watching wreak vengeance on hapless humans wasn’t a Plymouth Fury as claimed, but another Plymouth model known as a Belvedere made to look like a Fury. Christine was Toreador Red (blood red, anyone?) with an Iceberg White roof, together with anodised silver trim and a gold-plated ‘V’ on the grille. These are tell-tale signs that the car was, in fact, a 1958 Belvedere.
Moreover,’58 Furys (all 5303 of them) were painted ‘Buckskin Beige’. It is hard to imagine an evil car painted such a colour – and it’s also plain to see why Stephen King, in his book on which the movie was based, wanted Christine to be a Fury rather than an innocuous-sounding Belvedere.
Either way, Christine was the film’s drawcard, a femme fatale with white-wall tyres and murderous intent in her headlights.
Fred knew he was buying a Fury look-alike when he decided to import his Plymouth from the States. He wanted a car that resembled Christine – and importing a factory-standard beige Fury just wasn’t going to cut it. The subtle differences between Fury and Belvedere are lost on most people anyway: even connoisseurs of ’50s cars find it difficult to tell a Christine clone from a stock red and white Belvedere.
The producers of Christine took advantage of the subtle differences in the two models when they began preparations for filming. Ads were placed across the US to purchase available 1958 Plymouths, and 23 (consisting of Furys, Belevederes and another similar model known as the Savoy) were purchased and customised to look the same.
It’s just as well so many cars were purchased, as most were demolished during filming. When the movie wrapped, only three pristine ‘Christines’ remained. These went on the road to promote the movie and were later sold to collectors.
Plymouth fans were annoyed to find out so many of these classic cars were plundered, smashed and crushed to make the movie. And yet the film did much to increase the popularity of ’58 Plymouths among collectors and grant them iconic status. It undoubtedly saved many from the scrap-heap.
The popularity of the car today is such that many owners have turned their 1958 Plymouths into Christine look-alikes. Some Furys have been painted red with the distinctive white stripe, and some standard-issue Belvederes have had Fury engines put in them. Both Belvederes and Furys are now considered to be rare collector’s items.
Fred’s Plymouth Belvedere was his first and only car – not bad for someone who is now only 28 years old. He never considered buying anything else. “I like everything about the car,” he said. “The front grille, the contours, the speedo display on the dash – it’s the most beautiful car there is.”
Purchasing the car didn’t come without some trepidation though. “By far the scariest thing was handing over what was rather a large amount of money to someone I didn’t know,” said Fred.
“When I got hold of the guy selling it on the phone, I did what you normally do – I tried to bargain with him. He said to me, ‘Look here, Aussie, my phone’s been ringing off the hook so if you don’t buy it, someone else will.’ That’s when I knew I had to stump up the asked-for price.”
Once the sale was agreed, Fred arranged for the car to be trucked to a shipping agent in LA, and it was then put on a ship bound for Australia. A broker in South Australia helped him finalise the car’s importation.
Fred had made the decision to purchase the car having seen only three pictures of it. The gamble paid off. “I didn’t sleep for about three months,” he said, “but it actually turned out much better than I expected.”
When Fred’s car arrived in Adelaide, he found that it was standard throughout, with optional twin rear antennas, tinted green glass and power steering. One thing he didn’t realise until he looked under the bonnet was that his car featured dual four-barrel carburettors, an extremely rare option.
Otherwise, the car was in extremely good condition. “All that needed replacing on the car was the exhaust, the brakes and the spark plugs, and that was it!”
One part of the car Fred has never felt inclined to replace is the radio. In an eerie example of life imitating art, Fred tells of turning on the car’s original AM radio shortly after having it registered. Hearing nothing but a crackle, he decided the speakers must have long since deteriorated. He left the radio on, and was shocked when it suddenly burst into life playing The Doors’ ‘Love Me Two Times’. Fans of the film will remember that Christine’s radio would often come on by itself and would only play rock’n’roll from the ’50s.
Fred has since found out the radio in his Plymouth is a valve radio and that it needs time to warm up. Even so, the radio’s volume control still has a mind of its own. Spooky!
Fred now has the car running as he would like it, but he isn’t one to keep it cloistered. In spite of owning such a rare car – Fred is only aware of two or three other cars like it in Adelaide – he uses it as his day-to-day driver. Nor does he mind the attention it receives.
“No matter where I take it, I get loads of people commenting on the car. I can’t leave it anywhere!” he chuckles. “The funny thing is that a lot of people recognise the car as Christine and they just have to come up and ask me about it.”
Let’s hope Fred’s Plymouth doesn’t take a dislike to any of them…
Open Road e-zine October 2008
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