The Last Race 2018

As THE LAST RACE unfolds, the cinematic canvas is painted with a vivid portrait of Riverhead Raceway, a Long Island institution clinging to its legacy as the last surviving stock car track. The octogenarian owners, Barbara (character name) and Jim Cromarty, find themselves at the forefront of a David-and-Goliath battle against the forces of real estate development, which threaten to erase this quintessential American racing tradition from the face of the earth.

Nestled in the heart of Long Island, Riverhead Raceway has been an integral part of the region’s fabric since 1949. As the years went by, the surrounding landscape transformed from a serene expanse of farmland and sleepy main streets to a concrete jungle of highways, shopping malls, and retail behemoths. Amidst this metamorphosis, Riverhead remained a steadfast constant, its quarter-mile track standing like an island against the tide of progress.

Now, with the land valued at well over ten million dollars, it seems inconceivable that the Cromartys’ 1977 purchase of the track would still be generating mere pennies from ticket sales on summer weekends. Yet, defying the laws of economics and the allure of a lucrative retirement package, Barbara (character name) and Jim continue to run Riverhead Raceway with an unyielding passion.

Their determination is rooted in their understanding that this humble track carries the weight of responsibility as the last bastion of stock car racing on Long Island. When Riverhead goes under, it’s not just a local relic that will be lost; it’s the very essence of grassroots racing culture that will disappear with it. As THE LAST RACE poignantly highlights, the Cromartys’ struggle to preserve this piece of Americana is a testament to their unwavering dedication to preserving a way of life that has become increasingly rare in today’s fast-paced world.

In stark contrast to the cookie-cutter commercialism surrounding it, Riverhead Raceway embodies a unique essence - a byproduct of a community’s passion for speed and its roots in the raw, unbridled spirit of blue-collar America. Born from humble beginnings, where worn-out wrecks roamed a dusty oval in an abandoned field, this rustic racing haven has evolved organically over time. The Cromartys, the entrepreneurial souls behind it all, have transformed what was once a simple gathering of enthusiasts into a thriving enterprise that peddles more than just the thrill of the race or the satisfaction of a piping-hot hot dog and a souvenir tee; they offer membership to a brotherhood of hardworking individuals who pour their hearts and souls into crafting racing machines from metal, grease, and unyielding dedication. These men are adrenaline-fueled warriors, their identities inextricably tied to this sacred patch of earth where the blue-collar ethos reigns supreme.

The beauty that unfolds at Riverhead is a primal, visceral experience akin to stumbling upon an ancient tribe deep in the jungle. A visit here reveals the unbridled creativity and resourcefulness of a community that has honed its craft through generations of trial and error, fashioning a unique aesthetic from the very tools and materials at their disposal. The cars that thunder down the track are more than just machines - they’re works of art, testaments to the ingenuity and perseverance of their builders, who salvage parts from junkyards like treasure hunters on the hunt for hidden riches. Every dent, every scar, tells a story of past battles, while the announcer’s booming voice serves as the master storyteller, regaling the crowd with tales of triumph and defeat in the Coliseum-like atmosphere of the track. The roar of the engines is their anthem, and the race itself becomes a majestic dance of color, sound, and raw emotion that erupts every weekend, a testament to the indomitable will of this tribe.

As Barbara (actress name) and Jim, two stalwarts nearing the twilight of their years, grapple with the fragility of their health, they’re faced with an existential crisis: how long can they cling to the reins of Riverhead’s iconic track? The uncertainty is matched only by the insidious allure of lucrative offers from developers, poised to transform this oasis into a sterile monument to commerce. The racers and their fervent fans are acutely aware of this precarious future, as if they’re witnessing the very fabric of their world being devoured by the same homogenizing forces that have reduced indigenous cultures worldwide to relics of a bygone era.

The thought of surrendering to these forces is tantalizingly easy. When the track finally succumbs to the inevitable, the vacuum left behind will be filled by the relentless tide of corporate retail, assimilating the land into another monotonous strip of soulless commerce that dominates America’s landscape. Saturdays will be spent navigating the aisles of neatly packaged products, devoid of the intoxicating aromas of gasoline and burnt rubber, as the once-thunderous roar of engines gives way to the sedate hum of pleasant background music. Gone will be the rush of adrenaline, the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat, and the sheer exuberance that defines this world.

But beneath this veneer of tranquility lies a toxic calm, one that stifles passion and extinguishes the flames that once fueled their lives. In THE LAST RACE, we’re treated to a poignant portrayal of a place and people who have discovered a reason to live in the face of impending oblivion – a desperate grasp at their last hurrah of raw emotion before the bulldozers roll in, ready to reduce this beloved track to a distant memory.