I Saw A Film!
If you like your cheesy action films light on the intrigue and heavy on the bikini-clad curves this is your jam. Former Playboy bunny Dona Spier with some fine 80s perm’d hair has to hunt and be hunted by some seriously malicious evil guys. There’s the Great, pre-Machete, Danny Trejo, and the not so great Eric Estrada. The film plays a bit like an all girl episode of the A-team but without a lick of humor or restraint. When the bikini clad gunfighters run to each other on the beach and clasp their hands in a kind of squatting, warrior-faced clan greeting, the result is more bewildering than inspired. This film is part of a series of similar films by a singular writer and director Andy Sidaris who quite likely had a “thing” for girls and big guns.
So, this is the sort of film that’s made for guys who enjoy those bikini model tool calendars, and perhaps the Christmas calendars where each day a little door opens to reveal boobs. There’s nothing wrong with sexuality or these sorts of films that might have slow-motion sequences of ladies running and firing automatic weapons, but I do think you should know that’s the whole purpose of the film. It’s 99% that and 1% a revenge tidbit. Our hero shoots the rotter who has her sister, with not one rocket, but all four of them in the launcher just to be sure, or in order to really maximize the collateral damage. There are shoot-up sequences in this film that take place in ladies’ restrooms with men in drag. People represented in this film immediately drop whatever they are doing and start shooting, somehow instantly assessing and responding with deadly force. There’s no time for qualified study of the situation.
Much of this film comes off like it’s an inadvertent spoof of a proper action film, which themselves are often narrowly on the cusp of being ironic creations. It’s a fine line to have to walk, and nothing comes off quite as righteous or satisfying as it was clearly intended to be.
running for zip on Prime and fun in a kind of silly “That’s what she said!” kind of joke of a film. The sexy vocalist lip-syncing the title song is actually better than most of the film. It’s a shame the ladies weren’t also in a rock band, or, like in Buckaroo Bonzai, also neuro-surgeons.