******TANKER-FUELED SPOILERS!******

When I was a little kid growing up in the 1970s, most made-for-TV movies (with a few notable exceptions) were usually talky police procedurals, murder mysteries, courtroom dramas or thrillers. 1970s television wasn’t the typical venue for balls-to-the-wall, high-octane action flicks. However, the medium of television is where future cinematic legend Steven Spielberg (“JAWS,” “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” “Jurassic Park”) got his start. After directing two segments of Rod Serling’s “The Night Gallery,” Spielberg would then helm his first feature-length movie; 1971’s “Duel,” which would define his engaging, kinetic, audience-pleasing style. “Duel” is a deceptively simple story of an everyman commuter caught in a life-and-death struggle with an almost supernatural tanker truck.

The movie was written by the late, great Richard Matheson (“I Am Legend,” “The Legend of Hell House,” “Stir of Echoes”), who adapted his own short story and expanded upon it considerably. The movie also featured top-notch cinematography by Jack Marta, who lensed many westerns, with music by Billy Goldenberg, who scored some of the better TV-movies (“The UFO Incident,” “Helter Skelter”) and series (“Columbo”) of that era. For the film’s everyman lead, “Duel” featured actor Dennis Weaver, who’d made many appearances on various popular shows (“Gunsmoke,” “The Twilight Zone”), and was enjoying widespread acclaim as TV detective “McCloud” (1970-1977). With all that going for it, “Duel” still had a 24-year old novice director, who was considered somewhat risky at the time. This ‘novice’ would soon become one of the biggest directors in cinema history; right alongside Alfred Hitchcock, Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola and Akira Kurosawa.

As I revisited Spielberg’s “Duel” (a movie I had vividly remembered from my own childhood), I noticed more foreshadowings of his later work, particularly the many parallels with his first bona fide blockbuster, 1975’s “JAWS.”

So check your radiator hose, buckle up, and let’s revisit…

“Duel” (1971)

The movie opens with montage footage chronicling the commute of David Mann (Dennis Weaver) as he exits the gray familiarity of downtown L.A. traffic into the unyielding Mojave desert and its desolate highways on a long business trip.

Note: The bumper-level cinematography during the opening credits feels designed to subtly heighten a viewer’s crash anxiety, as if we ourselves are vulnerably strapped to the grill of the car. Though shot in streets throughout Los Angeles, the scene feels vaguely European (à la cinéma vérité) in its execution.

En route to his important meeting, Mann encounters a grimy, oil-stained Peterbilt truck belching toxic smoke into the open driver’s side window of Mann’s red 1970 Plymouth Valiant. After passing the visibly toxic vehicle, Mann is soon overtaken by it and forced to yield, before honking his horn and speeding up once again–leaving the truck to eat his dust. More irritated than frazzled, Mann mentally files this minor road rage incident as closed.

Note: Modern technology, such as cellphones, rear cameras, satellite-GPS, built-in collision alerts, and other driver-assisting gizmos would render much of this movie’s tension null-and-void today. Few commuters now could ever be as ‘alone’ as Mann is in this film. As modern tech threatens to undermine some of the movie’s action set-pieces, “Duel,” like Spielberg’s “JAWS,” plays better a period piece today. Even more recent movies of this subgenre, like 1997’s “Breakdown” or 2001’s “Joy Ride,” would be diluted using modern driver assisting tech.

Finding a gas station to refuel and make a phone call, Mann asks the attendant (Tim Herbert) to take a look at his car while he’s at it. After calling his wife (Jacqueline Scott), Mann rekindles their argument from the previous night before ending the call. The attendant advises Mann to replace his worn radiator hose, which Mann audibly dismisses as nickel-and-diming by the attendant.

Note: Unless you know your car inside and out? Always listen to the mechanic, folks. Just saying. The scene also establishes that the dismissive David Mann isn’t a particularly nice guy. By the way, is there anyone reading this who’s old enough to remember uniformed service station attendants, or am I the last of the dinosaurs?

Meanwhile, Mann notices that the truck which played cat-and-mouse with him earlier has now pulled alongside him at the service station. Unable to get a clear look at the driver, Mann drives away, hoping to put some distance between himself and the truck…

Note: Kudos to director Spielberg, for resisting the impulse to give us a good look at the truck driver, save for an arm and a pair of boots, which maintain the illusion that driver and rig are one. Director Spielberg would pull a similar trick with the largely unseen shark in “JAWS,” though that was dictated by necessity, due to the mechanical shark prop’s many malfunctions (which, in hindsight, aided the film considerably).

During the drive, Mann notices the truck has somehow caught up to him, as it passes once again, resuming its road-hogging game. After teasing and toying with Mann, the two vehicles approach a passing lane and we see an arm extend from the truck’s cab, urging Mann to pass him. After Mann accepts the truck’s unexpected deference, he is nearly hit by an oncoming vehicle (!). Mann realizes the trucker was trying to kill him. Acting on adrenaline, Mann races the truck before overtaking it, using an unpaved shoulder turnout as a passing lane.

Note: The shot of the truck driver’s left arm waving Mann ahead appears to extend from the truck itself rather than its cab window; once again subtly reinforcing the illusion of driver and vehicle being a single entity.

Yelping with childish excitement over his ‘win,’ Mann realizes the truck–traveling much faster than expected–has resumed its pursuit of him at high speed, forcing him to lose control and crash into a roadside fence. The elderly owner of the property (Charles Seel) comes to see if Mann is alright, noticing he has a bit of whiplash. Making no apologies for the destruction of the old man’s fence, the visibly shaken Mann walks across the street to a diner to get his bearings, and perhaps call highway patrol.

Note: Kudos to actor Dennis Weaver (“Gunsmoke,” “McCloud”) for shedding any vanity in his petty celebratory joy after Mann seemingly outwits his predator. Weaver expertly captures how many of us truly act when we’re alone in the confines of our cars; the pettiness, the unspoken criticisms, the nasty commentaries and even the schadenfreude over other’s misfortunes. He nails all the ugly stuff we (try to) leave in our cars after we arrive at our destinations.

Inside the diner, patrons and staff ask if he’s okay after witnessing Mann’s crash into the fence. He waves them off, and uses a bathroom in which to to collect his wits. Finding a booth, Mann then orders a sandwich, before looking out the window to noticing that the predatory truck is now parked outside, along with several other vehicles. Immediately, Mann’s mind races, as he wonders (via an interior monologue) which of the patrons in the cafe might be his trucker nemesis.

Note: Mann’s interior monologue is an homage to classic Hitchcock, as are disorienting camera angles and uncomfortable shots of patrons eating, which remind me of Hitchcock’s closeup of a nervous Norman Bates’ gulping throat as he eats candy while being questioned by the private detective in 1960’s “Psycho.”

Never getting a good look at the driver, Mann comes across a single, middle-aged customer seated in an opposite booth. With nothing to go on but his uncertain gut feeling, Mann approaches the man (Eugene Dynarski), and nervously asks him to “cut it out.” The customer stops chewing, and asks what the hell’s he talking about.

His nerves frayed, Mann angrily knocks the sandwich out of the stranger’s hand. Furious, the unjustly accused diner punches Mann in retaliation, before the manager orders him to leave, and offers the offended customer another meal on the house. As Mann heads toward the exit, he sees the burly patron leave in his pickup truck, just the diabolical tanker exits from the parking lot. Mann realizes the trucker must’ve been in his cab the entire time.

Note: Actor Eugene Dynarski would play the sexist dilithium crystal miner Ben Childress in the 1966 Star Trek episode “Mudd’s Women.” The actor’s Star Trek connection would continue in 1987 when he played ‘Commander Quinteros’ of Starbase 74 in the Next Generation episode, “11001001.” Dynarski would re-team with director Spielberg a few years later to play the gruff power plant supervisor of ‘Roy Neary’ (Richard Dreyfus) in 1977’s “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” Unfortunately, his scene was cut from all but the original theatrical version (which is preserved, along with the other two versions, on the movie’s 40th anniversary Blu-Ray).

As he resumes his increasingly dangerous trek through the desert, Mann sees a stranded school bus driver (Lou Frazzel) flagging him down. Mann pulls over to help the stranded bus and its kids, who spring out and begin sprawling all over his Plymouth Valiant. The bus driver hopes that Mann’s car can help push-start the bus, so Mann reluctantly connects his front bumper to the rear of the bus and tries pushing, but his bumper slips and gets caught under the school bus. The bus driver helps him separate by pushing up and down on the hood of Mann’s car. Freed, Mann then notices the truck returning, and flees the scene in near-panic. We later see the truck incongruously giving the bus driver the very push he needed to get his bus rolling again.

Note: Once again we see that the protagonist Mann (can’t really call him a ‘hero’) is almost instantly disliked and/or disrespected wherever he goes on this trip. First, he argues with his wife, then he dismisses the service attendant before he’s practically run out of the diner by its patrons and manager. Now he’s being ridiculed and bullied by school kids, who openly mock him and run roughshod all over his car.

Later, Mann is stopped at a railway crossing as a freight train passes. Suddenly, the truck returns and begins pushing Mann’s car into the path of the train. The train passes, and Mann’s Valiant sprints across the tracks and out of the railway crossing. Mann then drives slower, allowing other vehicles to pass. He then sees the truck waiting for him on the side of the road. The predatory truck resumes its most dangerous game…

Note: The scene of the truck helping the school bus get back on the road is more chilling than comforting, as it implies the trucker is probably a nice guy in other circumstances; with his inexplicably psychotic wrath reserved only for David Mann, and no one else. Richard Matheson’s short story, “Duel” (on which his screenplay is based) stemmed from a real-life 1963 incident where the writer was inexplicably tailgated by a menacing truck during a long drive to San Francisco.

An increasingly desperate Mann pulls over to a roadside animal attraction called the “Snake-o-rama” in hopes of using its outdoor phone booth to call police and perhaps replace that radiator hose. The eccentric owner (Lucille Benson) begins her spiel about her reptile menagerie, but Mann is only interested in using the phone. Midway through his call, Mann is forced to quickly hang up and exit, as the truck violently plows right through the phone booth. The terrorizing tanker then chases Mann through the outdoor ‘zoo,’ as the owner laments the harm to her animals. Surrounded by unleashed snakes and other dangerous critteres (as well as the marauding truck), Mann barely manages to jump back into his car and flee.

Note: One of the many inspired moments added for the screenplay throws deadly snakes into the mix, along with the killer truck. Reminds me of the roadside attractions of “Uncle Willy’s Desert Museum” from the 1972 sci-fi/horror TV-movie ““Gargoyles,” which also took place in the deserts between Nevada and California.

Pulling over to a secluded spot off the road, Mann turns off his engine and decides to wait the truck out. After a few hours, he restarts his car and drives cautiously up the road, only to see the diabolical rig waiting for him further down. The road-hogging truck refuses to allow Mann passage. Exiting his car, Mann then spots an elderly couple (Alexander Lockwood, Amy Douglass) driving his way, and asks for their help. Panicked by his frenzied manner and disheveled state, the couple then see the truck backing towards them at speed, and split–leaving David alone to once again face his own personal Goliath.

Note: Actors Alexander Lockwood and Amy Douglas, who play the elderly couple, would return in Spielberg’s “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” as well. Douglass would also guest star in an episode of Quinn Martin’s sci-fi series, “The Invaders” (“The Trial”).

The truck stops short of hitting Mann, allowing him to speed past and resume their chase; which the truck seems to crave more than simply killing Mann. Noticing what appears to be a distant police car, Mann then realizes it’s only a pest control vehicle. There is no one to help him for miles. With its radiator failing (should’ve changed that hose earlier…), the car begins rapidly overheating. Mann goes into full panic mode, desperately pleading for his overtaxed car to continue, as the tenacious truck follows him uphill. At the peak of the hill, Mann puts the car into neutral, allowing it to coast downhill without using its overheated engine. Mann is nearly slammed by the waiting truck, as he restarts his dying car one last time…

Note: Dennis Weaver’s complete unhinged panic as his car threatens to die mid-chase is Emmy Award-worthy stuff. Once again, the actor sheds all vanity and inhibitions a typical ‘leading man’ might be afraid to reveal in a more traditional heroic role. For example, actor Steve McQueen (“Bullitt,” “The Cincinnati Kid”), who was once a frontrunner for the lead in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” took himself out of the running when he confessed to Steven Spielberg that he didn’t think he could cry on camera.

Mann’s Valiant (living up to its name) crawls uphill to a nearby precipice, billowing heavy steam and dust in its wake. Mann grabs his briefcase from his passenger seat and wedges it onto the gas pedal. Before exiting the car, Mann steers it towards the truck, causing them to collide. The Valiant bursts into flames, obscuring the truck driver’s view.

Unable to turn around in time, both the truck and Mann’s discarded Plymouth fly off the cliff together–smashing at the base in twisted heaps of exhausted, overheated metal. The truck–and presumably its driver–are dead. Goliath has been slain. His mouth bloodied, an exhausted Mann does a celebratory dance.

Note: Sharp-eared viewers might hear the nearly undetectable sound of a roar as the monstrous truck crashes to its doom. The roar was a foley effect used for a dinosaur in the 1957 sci-fi/adventure flick “The Land Unknown.” It was also the sound effect for the pet dragon “Spot” in TV’s “The Munsters” (1964-1966), and would be recycled again, as the dead great white shark sank deeper into its watery grave at the climax of Spielberg’s “JAWS.” That roar is the ‘Wilhelm scream’ of monster sound FX.

Stranded in the desert with no vehicle of his own, Mann contemplates the dead metal wreckage at the base of the cliff as the sun sets…

The End.

Summing It Up

First airing on US television in November of 1971 at a brisk 74 minutes, “Duel” would be shown theatrically in Europe at a full 90 minutes, and it’s this cut that has become the definitive version of the movie. “Duel” truly belongs on a big screen, as much as 1984’s “The Terminator” or 1994’s “Speed.” With various nods to Alfred Hitchcock, François Truffaut and John Ford, the young Steven Spielberg clearly had an intuitive understanding of cinematic language, even at 24 years old.

Those earliest moments of the film, shot with wide-angle lenses at bumper-level, give viewers just a whiff of crash anxiety; even in modest traffic. Screenwriter Richard Matheson (1926-2013) really poured on the gas as well; broadening his original novella into a survival epic. Adding a number of tension-ratcheting scenes into the screenplay, Matheson even gave his novella’s protagonist a name.

As the film’s aptly-named protagonist ‘David Mann,’ Dennis Weaver (1924-2006) is not necessary a likable lead; he’s petty, dismissive, nervous, judgmental, and even a bit of a schmuck to his wife (Jacqueline Scott), whom he doesn’t defend after she accuses a guest of making a pass at her during an offscreen party. He’s truly ‘man,’ as in mankind, warts and all (I see what you did there, Richard Matheson…). However, it’s Mann’s faults and frailties which make him more relatable and interesting than if he were a stalwart hero.

Weaver expertly expresses those relatable negative emotions of short-tempered indignation and entitlement we all experience behind the wheel. It doesn’t help that most people Mann encounters are unsympathetic or unsupportive, too. Even kids instinctively mock him. Mann’s vaguely off-putting personality leaves him to fight his mechanical beast alone (similar to how aquaphobe Chief Brody is left to fight the shark alone at the end of “JAWS”).

The 1957 Peterbilt 281 truck is the other ‘star’ of the movie; the gritty, grimy, obsolete mechanical monster with many license plates hails from both everywhere and nowhere. Onscreen, the truck is shot with angles and careful cropping that truly make it come alive. The truck is the direct predecessor of the great white shark in Spielberg’s “JAWS.” Both are primitive, stalking and unrelenting, with a bit of the supernatural thrown in as well. Just as the killer shark in “JAWS” was freakishly oversized and far stronger than a regular great white, the Peterbilt in “Duel” is much faster than most rigs of its vintage. Other than the occasional arm or vague silhouette from the cab window, the largely largely unseen driver (Carey Lofton) and his truck act as one. By contrast, Mann drives a very average, red 1970 Plymouth Valiant; a great name for a hero vehicle, even if the movie’s ‘hero’ is as flawed as any of us.

To any fan of Steven Spielberg’s body of work, or fans of pre-CGI car race/chase epics, such as “Two-Lane Blacktop” (1971), “The French Connection” (1971) or “Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry” (1974), “Duel” is a must-see flick. The young and hungry Spielberg really puts the pedal to the metal with terrific action set pieces supported by a vanity-free lead performance by Dennis Weaver. Despite its humble, made-for-TV origins, Steven Spieleberg’s “Duel” is as cinematic as any other of the director’s classics. Not to be missed.

Where to Watch

“Duel” is available to rent or purchase digitally via Amazon Prime Video, YouTube Premium, AppleTV and other streaming platforms (prices vary). The movie is also available in its full 90 minute European version (the default version) from Universal DVD/Blu-Ray from Amazon, eBay and other online retailers (prices vary). Incidentally, I bought the Blu-Ray online from GRUV.com for a reasonable price. Good luck!