Monday, May 10, 2010

Screwballs (Rafal Zielinski, 1983)

Never have I seen a more single-minded effort to catch but a fleeting glimpse of a specific section of the female anatomy than what I saw transpire in Screwballs, an indisputable candidate for the title of: "Most Juvenile Movie Ever Made." Mixing flat out stupidity, puerile humour, and crass wordplay, the ashamedly Canadian film, directed by Rafal Zielinski (Valet Girls) and written by Jim Wynorski (Chopping Mall) and Linda Shayne (Loose Screws), has an unflinching purity about it that most sex comedies seem to lack. What I mean is there's no pretense about what the characters' primary goal is: They want to see the unclothed boobies of a virginal high school senior, and that's it. No clandestine hand jobs, no dry humping on a library sofa, no upside down cunnilingus, not even an awkward courtesy fuck on the oversized lucite table overlooking your sickly sister's colourful collection of deformed doll heads, they simply want their eyes to render the image of her naked breasts in order that their cerebral cortex can provide their flaccid penises with the data required to fashion an erection of some standing. The amount of energy the lead boys put into their unsavory but rational undertaking will no doubt impress even the most jaded perversion observers. Impress because half of them seem to already have access to a steady supply of willing ladies. In fact, one of them can be seen on a drive-in date with three attractive women simultaneously (they patiently wait their turn to make out with him). So, it's got nothing to do with lacking companionship. What I think drove these horny individuals was the desire go where no one had gone before.

Similar to way Vasco da Gama or any number of Eurotrash explorers reacted when they first became aware of land they had not seen before, the fivesome in Screwballs see the modestly hilly region on the front of Purity Busch's sexy frame as an undiscovered swath of territory prime for exploitation.

Except, instead spreading disease, opening trade routes, and committing atrocities, all these guys wanna do is ejaculate seminal fluid in a calm and dignified manner.

Surrounded by (please excuse my crudeness) choice pieces of tail, five male high school students at Taft & Adams High from various walks of life make a pack with one another to do what whatever it takes to unveil the tits of Purity Busch (Linda Speciale) while cleaning frogs in detention. Each of which, by the way, is sent to detention via perverted circumstances.

Taking turns, the five horny dudes hurl themselves at Purity with an unambiguous fervor. The fresh-faced new kid, Tim (Jim Coburn), takes the first crack at her by sneaking into her bedroom while she sleeps; an ultra nerdy but technically efficient Howie Bates (Alan Deveau) tries to lure her into girls change room; masturbation enthusiast Melvin Jerkovski (Jason Warren) uses stealth to catch his glimpse (he buries himself in the sand underneath her favourite spot at the beach); the suave Brent (Kent Deuters) and his trusty tennis racquet (he's never seen without it) tries to poison her during a party celebrating the opening of the school's brand new airplane repair facility (!?!); and the equally suave Ricky (Peter Keleghan) dresses in drag masquerading as a sewing teacher (the real teacher has been bound and gagged in a storage closet).

As you would expect, each one of these attempts to reveal Purity's num-nums is met with profound failure.

In terms of going down in flames the best, I'd say Howie's failure was the most satisfying. Call me mentally unwell, but the sight of his gangly frame being beaten by a scantily clad armada of zombie teenage girls looked quite enjoyable–you know, from certain angles.

Clearly exhausted by the amount of effort each put into his attempt to rob Purity of her chastity, the boys blow off some steam by engaging in a spirited game of strip bowling with a group of gals; a group that includes Bootsie Goodhead (Linda Shayne) and Rhonda Rockett (Terrea Smith).

I'm surprised none of them had the wherewithal to just walk up to her and ask to see her breasts. Because judging by the way Purity erotically rubbed her body against her large teddy bear, it's clear she doesn't have an aversion to sex. Nonetheless, after witnessing a seemingly unending number of attempts to unlock her prized knockers, an exalted air starts to form around her chest region. I mean, you begin to think to yourself: "I really want to see her nipples."

Which is weird when you consider the fact that you see Linda Shayne and Terrea Smith topless multiple times throughout the movie, and I consider them be the "major babes" of the film.

The biology teacher (Jan Taylor) who wears lingerie underneath her lab coat being next in line, babe-wise.

This unexpected allure is definitely an accidental testament to the makers of this extremely dumb movie. They may have the comedic sensibility of a couple of twelve year-olds with a serious glue sniffing problem, but they do know how to build up a pair of unobserved mammary glands. The odd sense of relief and misguided accomplishment one feels after the boys finally uncover their prize cannot be discounted; a sex comedy for the ages.


video uploaded by JUST FLOYD
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11 comments:

  1. I am always torn on these type movies. Oddly, this sounds better than Porky's. Especially since it seems to deliver in the skin department.

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  2. I was just looking for this on Amazon (hides face in shame) and it says that Russ Meyer hottie Raven de la Croix is in it. IMDb lists her as "Miss Anna Tommical" - I hate to say it, but that just might be worth the watch. They have it on Blu-Ray too. Really? Blu-Ray?

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  3. Yikes, I totally forgot to mention Raven de la Croix. She appears at a strip club as a, get this, stripper (crazy casting directors).

    Shame? Feel no shame, little buddy. Screwballs is The Magnificent Ambersons of T&A sex comedies.

    I must admit, I did do a double-take when I saw that Screwballs was available on Blu-Ray.

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  4. I had to order it. Bku-Ray even. 50 cents more, so no biggie. Raven sold me. She was great in Up! (not the one with the fat kid ;-)

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  5. Hi.
    We're almost caught up on Jeopardy!
    Speaking of getting caught up, I have some HoS-I reading to do!

    Vasco de Gama=Eurotrash? Awesome.

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  6. The Tournament of Champions are playing out at the moment.

    I'm addicted to reruns of Project Runway Canada.

    HoS-I? Hee. I like that. Sounds like a frat.

    I watched a leggy Amanda Seyfried gush about Charleston, SC on Leno last night. (It was the first non-lame, non-square guest he's had on since his return to 11:30PM.) Anyway, she basically said it was her fave place in the entire world.

    Have you heard about Gunless? It's a western/comedy starring Paul Gross and Callum Keith Rennie featuring new music by Blue Rodeo. I've read nothing but bad things, but I thought you might be a tad interested.

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  7. I bet the Charleston Chamber of Commerce loves Ms. Seyfried.

    CKR and Paul Gross reunited, with a soundtrack from Blue Rodeo? Bad reviews be damned!

    Oh, I have been cleaning out a cluttered library room--we have a new kitten, and she needs space--and I found the list of Canadian record stores I visited!
    Discworks
    Kop's Vortex
    Record Peddler
    Delta Music Service
    Incredible Records

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  8. Regarding Gunless... I kinda figured you'd see it that way. :D

    Discworks: I think this place used to be called "Cheapies" (Yonge St. just north of College). I recall Skinny Puppy having an "in-store" there around 1987.

    Kop's Vortex: I might have shopped here, I can't remember (I know it was on Queen West). Anyway, Vortex Records is still going strong up at Yonge and Eglinton (it's above a Pizza Pizza).

    Record Peddler: Used to be my fave record store in all of T.O. -- that distinction now belongs to Sonic Boom at Bloor and Bathurst.

    Delta Music Service: Never heard of it.

    Incredible Records: Bought a Foetus album there.

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  9. I just watched this. I fell asleep just before homecoming last time (my fault, not the film's). I found it to be utterly watchable. It was almost as good as my favorite sex comedy, H.O.T.S. Seriously.

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  10. Yikes, when I saw the 'u' in "utterly" combined with the word "watchable," I thought you were saying it was "unwatchable." (I almost ran crying away from my modestly furnished rumpus room.) But I can clearly see that you wrote "watchable." Which is a good thing -- you know, since it essentially means to be able look at something with your eyes in a manner that is comfortable to the person viewing it.

    Anyway, I've always wanted to see H.OT.S., and I love Kelly Osbourne as well.

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  11. I like H.O.T.S. better than Animal House, as goofball college films go. More flesh, and it doesn't fall apart in the middle and then scramble for a finish with an ill conceived parade assault. Plus, Danny Bonaduce gets his penis publicly sabotaged, and there is a strip football game.

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