Hagerty's playing to the kiddie kar audience with this ongoing homage to "muscle cars," which most of us laughed at when new; station wagon engines in egregious mid-sized slam, bam, thank you, ma'am Motown tin with trucky rear axle ratios, dopey decals sold to mouth-breathing Walter Mitties.
You do realize Hollywood's primary audience is adolescent boys, heavier on action than plot, nuance, novelty because mindless motion and ADD film editing returns more market overseas; dialogue superfluous.
Tho' little interest in postwar domestic cars, but preferring Mopar among those in the '50s, '60s,
agree with Reinhold above. The target audience knows half-century-old cars via online nonsense, buff books from the discount bin at the mall. A friend sold his late father's well-tended 425-ci '67 Olds Delta 88 coupe and laughed that 40-somethings were surprised to learn it had drum brakes and probably wouldn't do the physics-defying stunts in Nicholas Cage flicks.
Speaking of comic books, that is precisely what the James Bond movies were. Not one (1) of the cars had anything to do with those in Ian Fleming's novels.
Aren't there other cars from the past 120 years? We get a laugh out of guys saying they can't afford a Delage, Cord, Railton, prewar Buick Century, Packard among hundreds of other interesting rides, only to drone on and on about the equal or far greater amounts they've dumped in a "numbers matching" reskinned Falcon, Camaro, "muscle car," or Corvette, what one Brit motoring journalist wonderfully summed "a V-8 surrounded by four pieces of drywall."
"Let's drive together," urges Hagerty. Wouldn't think an insurance company wants to promote obnoxious tire chirping, let alone 50-, 60-, 70-year-olds "jerking off" to impress strangers at traffic lights.
Let's broaden our horizons.
