“You really are a horse
shit at showing emotion, but I like that in a man.” The first part (of
twelve) in Andy Sidaris' “L.E.T.H.A.L. Ladies” series doesn't pack
the same punch as its follow-up Hard Ticket To Hawaii, but the
writer/director's heady mix of beautiful babes, muscular men, brash action, and
corny dialogue was clearly the state of play from the very beginning. At the
heart of the somewhat baffling plot – a vague remake of the director's own 1973
début feature film Stacey – is a Private Investigator, a wealthy family,
and a scheme to sell America's computer technology to the communists – and a
hell of moustache...
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continue the review and see more screenshots…
“We hear you're a private
investigator.” / “And we wanna know if you'll investigate our privates.”
Cody Abilene (Darby Hinton, Naked Fist) is a P.I. from Texas, a
smooth mover wafting about in a DeLorean with a cow skin suitcase (the 1980s
vibe is strong from the first moments) with a thing for regurgitating
thuddingly blunt exposition into his Dictaphone. Fancying himself as something
of a Dirty Harry, Cody Abilene is anything but, as his skills – or total lack
thereof – with a .44 Magnum will be illustrated throughout the movie. He may be
a terrible shot, but he's a lady killer of the highest order as a bevy of buxom
beauties populate his life, from race driver June Khnockers (Lynda
Wiesmeier, Teen Wolf) to yacht club bunnies May and Faye (Playboy
Playmates Barbara Edwards and Kimberly McArthur), and many, many
more. But there's only so much time for play, as Cody is soon thrust into an
investigation concerning a Russian conspiracy to steal American computer
technology that somehow involves the wealthy Chamberlain family.
“Pleasure before business.
I like that in a woman.” They're a curious bunch, The Chamberlains,
what with the insatiable Anita (Shelley Taylor Morgan), her husband
Stuart (Michael Andrews) with his secret life as a drag queen, and the
family chauffeur Shane (Brett Clark, Fit To Kill) whose habit of
surreptitiously documenting his various bunk-up sessions with the Chamberlains
is all part of a blackmail sub-plot that takes a deadly turn. Brought into the
investigation via the mysterious Contessa Luciana (Sybil Danning, Reform
School Girls), Cody quickly finds himself up to his neck in a mountain
of intrigue and schemers.
“I need the fastest thing
on this lot.” / “Sugar, I'm the fastest thing on this lot.” / “Lord have
mercy.” Pursued by a gaggle of goons including Matthew (Art Metrano,
Police Academy 2 & 3), Mark (Mr Arizona Richard Brose),
and Luke (Mr Universe John Brown), Cody's investigation has plenty of
roadblocks in its way. Even allies like police detective Beverly (Lori
Sutton) are easily distracted by the romance of a beach house – but at
least they're all a better shot than Cody. Good lord, he's useless with a
firearm! To be honest, though, it's hard to tell what's really going on most of
the time as the script gets swamped with sub-plots, double-crosses, and
completely superfluous sidelines such as the bizarre trio of the Buffington
family, who are hellbent on beating Cody at drag racing for some convoluted
reason. Suffice to say, even with the atomic bomb of exposition dropped at the
very end of the film aboard the titular yacht, it's almost impossible to figure
out what was going on, let alone why, for the most part. The point, it seems,
is to just enjoy the ride for the duration.
“Fast, not good? Sounds
like most men I know.” With a proliferation of extraneous characters,
and a slew of bit-parts, Sidaris' film is no doubt a case of “Hey, wanna be
in a movie?” excess. Charging about between swanky mansions, a desert race
track, a marina, a drag strip, nightclubs, and a helicopter business, Malibu
Express certainly tries to cram everything and everyone into its
over-long running time (even Sidaris himself finds room to crowbar in a
cameo appearance as a pervy RV driver). Mind you, not all of the film's myriad
diversions are without merit in some form or another. For instance, Cody's
go-to phone service is in fact a sex chat line run by Sally (Miss Overdrive
Suzanne Regard), whose operators – in full-on fantasy mode – are always in
a constant state of nymphomania, even when dishing out convenient bits of
plot-centric information for Cody's benefit.
“Oh yeah? Well, if that
car's tits, then what are these?!” Similarly, the scene in which Cody
and June attempt to outrun a helicopter as Matthew sprays bullets at them skews
into entertainingly ridiculous territory as she gets bizarrely turned-on by the
whole escapade, before using her natural assets to distract the goons long
enough for Cody to – at last – get a clean shot at a stationary target. Sadly,
such scenes of utter weirdness are few and far between, but do set in motion
the sheer brilliant fun of 1987's Hard Ticket To Hawaii. Indeed, the
fairly unfocused Malibu Express often feels like a testing ground, as if
Sidaris was figuring out what did and didn't work. To be fair, for a modest
budget of $500,000, he does assemble a hefty assortment of locations and
characters. He must have been the kind of guy who made friends easily and could
talk them into any favour in exchange for a bit-part – and therein lies some of
the charm of these movies.
“I tell you one thing,
June's gorgeous front porch really saved our ass.” Riddled with random
nudity from the get-go, the movie is chock-full with ultra-buff shirtless dudes
and boob-flashing ladies, as well as copious scenes where the flimsy plot (kind
of mercifully) screeches to a halt as Cody slips between the sheets with
yet another of his female chums. However, it's not just the ladies who spend a
considerable portion of the movie in little-to-no gear, as the men also have a
tendency to strut about with their shirts off for no reason at all. Indeed,
Cody seems to spend most of his time amidst the fully clothed Chamberlain
family dressed in nothing but a bright red speedo, even when he's discovering
dead bodies on the lawn.
“What we call hard
evidence.” In today's overtly sensitive times, some might balk at the
very notion of nudity on camera – and never mind the context of the space-time
continuum – (ironic considering the extremely popular proliferation of online
smut flicks), but there is an oddball charm to Sidaris' film-making where
nothing whatsoever is taken seriously. Sure, it can be titillating (be
honest, what's so wrong about that?), but most things are played for laughs
and skew towards the silly. Nobody is safe from parody or pantomime, even the
macho hero of the piece. As the man himself said: “We prefer the lighter
approach to our brand of entertainment. We like people feeling good at the end
of the film.” That charm even extends to the almost familial vibe that the
L.E.T.H.A.L. Ladies series possesses, what with its selection of recurring
characters, actors, and behind the scenes collaborators, which included
Sidaris' own wife and grown offspring in various roles including Producer and 2nd
Unit Director. Malibu Express certainly is a blast from a very different
decade, what with the occasional bit of casual chauvinism, the jarring low-end
country music soundtrack, and the 'Skin-emax' approach to storytelling, but
there is just about enough lewdness, merriment and absurdity to keep viewers –
who enjoy this kind of fare, this particular 'brand of entertainment' –
interested.
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