Do you think any race car driver can negotiate a track blindfolded while going over a hundred miles per hour, even with someone giving a whistle at one of the tricky turns? That's one of the idiocies of this film, which asks us to suspend disbelief once too often. I have always liked Dennis O'Keefe, but he comes across here as a pest and nuisance as he joins a racing car group headed by Harry Carey, Sr., mostly because of Carey's daughter, Cecilia Parker, to whom he is attracted. Another problem with the film is that O'Keefe and Parker have zero chemistry together. I don't think Parker smiled even once; she seemed not to be enjoying even being in the film. I enjoyed Nat Pendleton's comic antics, and some of the acting of the drivers Tom Neal and Tom Collins. But overall, it's not much of a racing drama or a murder mystery.