Saboteurs try to steal some uranium from the government, and the titular radar-loving g-men are on the case with technological wonders that can do pretty much anything the plot demands. Either the definition of "radar" meant something radically different in 1950 or this screenplay just isn't trying very hard.
This is some hella dull propaganda in service of... cops using radar, I guess? Was that something the public needed to be sold on? Or something that drive-in audiences were excited…
Nice-guy biker Erik Estrada tries to help out a fellow member of the Slavers (!) biker gang by sorting out a soured drug deal. That of course leads to him hiding from the law at William Smith's auto shop in the Nevada desert and striking up a whirlwind romance with stranded single mother Kathrin Middleton. Wanna bet whether or not he can really outrun his past?
This was a welcome throwback for me after spending a while exploring Joseph Merhi's…
Look, obviously when a movie starts out with Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing on a Trans-Siberian train battling an otherworldly shapeshifter that eats brains with its eyes, eventually you're going to get around to Telly Savalas in a deep red smoking jacket beating the hell out of a Rasputinesque monk in a crowded dining car. Fortunately, the stylish execution makes up for the same-old same-old plot.