40 Years Later, Maximum Overdrive Has Aged Like Fine Milk

Sarah J. Maas has sold over 75 million books, yet no one has offered the romantasy stalwart $27 million to make the movie of her dreams while she gets trashed out of her mind on wine coolers. That may sound obvious, given that Hollywood studios should laugh you out of the room for suggesting that someone with no directing experience be given that kind of budget no matter how popular they are on TikTok. But if you change the variables and go back 40 years, you’d basically have the decision-making process that allowed Stephen King to direct Maximum Overdrive.

King had already published well-known novels like Carrie, The Shining, The Stand, Cujo, and Pet Semetery, many of which had become well-regarded films. Italian producer Dino De Laurentiis, the backer of movies like Barbarella, Death Wish, and Conan the Barbarian, didn’t seem to care that King had about as much directing experience as the average person reading this. They’d already collaborated on several adaptations of King’s work, including David Cronenberg’s successful take on The Dead Zone. What could go wrong with letting King try his hand behind the camera?

Pretty much everything, as it turns out, starting with the fact that King, in his own words, “was doing a lot of cocaine and drinking a lot.” Translator Roberto Croci claimed that King would be on his 10th beer of the day by 8:30 a.m., and while that raises questions of how he found time to direct in between trips to the bathroom, it may help explain why King wanted Bruce Springsteen as his star. De Laurentiis, tragically unfamiliar with the Boss, shot King down and brought in Emilio Estevez, who inexplicably agreed to go from The Breakfast Club to a Carolina truck stop where big rigs have run rampant.

Based on King’s own “Trucks,” Maximum Overdrive sees humanity’s machines turn homicidal after Earth passes through a comet’s tail. Bridges raise without warning, radios shock their users, and, in the eventual focus of the film, semi-trucks surround Wilmington’s Dixie Boy Truck Stop and mow down anyone who tries to leave (look for a young Giancarlo Esposito as an early victim of the stop’s rogue arcade machines).

Maximum Overdrive is kinda, sorta trying to say something about our supposed over-reliance on machines, but this is ultimately a movie where a vending machine drills a little league coach in the crotch with a pop can, then murders him and his players with its ensuing fusillade. King’s maximalist tendencies and De Laurentiis’ preference for making movies fast, cheap, and non-union proved a bad combination, especially given the language barrier between the American and Italian crew members. The whole affair culminated in cinematographer Armando Nannuzzi losing an eye after a botched stunt involving a lawnmower.

Had De Laurentiis ensured that King had proper oversight rather than ensuring there was a scene where love interest Laura Harrington changed out of her jeans, things might have turned out differently. As it stands, Maximum Overdrive is barely a horror movie, despite its bloody body count. It’s fun to watch King indulge his passions for a while, from the killer cars and all AC/DC soundtrack to the laughable moments where sprinklers and electric knives go haywire. King has written about his fondness for the B-movies of the ’50s and ‘60s, and at Maximum Overdrive’s best, it does feel like you’re watching an ‘80s update of the style.

Mostly, however, you’re watching a bunch of goobers hang around a truck stop. Estevez and the little-known John Short give it their all, although the real standout, of all people, is Yeardley Smith, who plays Short’s high-strung bride and, shortly before becoming the voice of Lisa Simpson, sounds exactly like Lisa Simpson. But like in King’s most overblown novels, there’s both too much and way too little happening.

Obviously, King’s career survived the debacle — It hit bookstores months later, and his family would soon push him towards sobriety. He’s been clean, successful, and dismissive of Maximum Overdrive ever since. Given that it’s not even his only story about evil cars (see Christine, From a Buick 8, and Mile 81, for a start), he can certainly afford to be. De Laurentiis, on the other hand, probably regretted blowing millions on evil construction equipment when his production company folded a few years later.

While Maximum Overdrive’s arrogant marketing campaign suggested that, unlike that hack Stanley Kubrick, King had made a King movie finally worth watching, the movie remains near the bottom of a filmography that isn’t exactly starved for poor output. And despite being one of many films to retroactively be called underrated because it isn’t as completely unwatchable as its reputation suggests, it’s still pretty crap. Remade for television in 1997 as Trucks, which stunk for different reasons, it’s just not that compelling of a premise.

And frankly, that’s the most interesting thing about watching Maximum Overdrive today. King was, by all accounts, an affable and well-meaning director, but that wasn’t enough to overcome his complete lack of experience. We all love stories of multi-hyphenate auteurs, but more often than not, it pays to employ a more obscure figure who actually knows what they’re doing. Maybe someday that lesson will stick with society at large.

Maximum Overdrive is streaming on Plex.