The Malibu Bikini Shop (David Wechter, 1986)

Strange as it may sound, but the brightly coloured bits of fabric used to cover specific parts of the female anatomy end up altering the vocational trajectory of a wannabe yuppie in The Malibu Bikini Shop (a.k.a. Der Bikini Shop), a jarring look at the day-to-day grind of working at a store that sells skimpy swimsuits in a beachfront environment. Opening with a dizzying array of shots featuring faceless female torsos pawing and grabbing at the uncompromising tightness of their newly acquired bathing garments, the firm film tells the story of a young man forced to choose between guaranteed comfort and unknown chaos. While it's telling this plucky little tale, writer-director David Wechter (Midnight Madness) makes sure there's always something jiggling in the background. Of course, all this undulating flesh could cause some problems, as mixing conventional storytelling with the distracting splendour of scantily clad ladies in bikinis has been a high-risk enterprise since the dawn of time. Yet the way the film managed to jump back and forth between the two distinct realms was a thing of beauty. Maintaining its narrative integrity, while at the same time generously providing the titillating eye candy certain members of the audience crave, cinema doesn't get anymore well-balanced than this. Now I realize there's no way to actually prove this, but I guarantee that both your brain and your genitals will be smiling smugly at one another after witnessing the temperamental cohesion that is at work here.

Celebrating his recent college graduation at the palatial home of his soon to be father-in-law, Alan (Michael David Wright) learns that his Aunt Ida in California has vacated the world of the living. When he arrives to put her affairs in order, Alan finds out that he has inherited her beloved bikini shop. While unamused by this turn of events–after all, he's got a plum job lined up and is engaged to a woman named Jane (Debra Blee)–his less motivated brother Todd (Bruce Greenwood) couldn't be more pleased.

Well, for one thing, Todd gets to fraternize with the comely employees of Ida's Bikini Shop; primarily Cindy (Galyn Görg) and Kathy (Ami Julius). A third employee named Ronnie (Barbara Horan) remains off Todd's radar mainly because Alan is transfixed by the budding fashion designer the moment he enters the shop.

Anyway, the buttoned-down Alan spends the majority of his time trying to sell shop, with the help of Mr. Remington (Frank "Yessssss" Nelson), an associate of the late Ida, while the mischievous Todd takes to the cotton-challenged macrocosm of swimwear sales.

As you would expect, the brothers clash repeatedly over their respective ambitions pertaining to the beach-based bikini outlet. And as I already sort of said, the repressed Alan wants to put the whole bikini affair behind him so he can get back to his fiancé and cushy job at his father-in-law's tire factory. On the other hand, Todd sees the bikini business as an opportunity to prove to the world that he is not a complete screw up. (We learn that his plan to open a chain of solar-powered hot dog carts in Seattle didn't go as well as expected.)

Impulsive to the extreme, Todd's madcap enthusiasm for all things bikini-related end up sabotaging every single one of Alan's attempts to sell the shop. The most flagrant example of this was when a couple of snooty buyers drop by just as Todd was in the middle of putting on a well-attended suntan contest outside the shop.

Surprisingly, the most awesome aspect of this glorified sunburn symposium wasn't the gratuitous nature of the contest–you, know, with all the half-naked ladies hurling their sunbaked bodies across the makeshift stage as Bruce Greenwood humped the air in nothing but jean shorts and a ratty tank top. But the fact all the contestants mention their full names before they commenced with the gyrating. I know that doesn't sound very awesome. But think about it, the first dancer (my fave and pick to win the whole shebang) said her name was Sheri Andrews. You see what I'm getting at? That's one more name than any of the lead characters have. I was blown away by this seemingly minor detail.

I also liked it when asked what her ambition in life was, Sheri Andrews answered, "I don't know." Call me someone who is prone to making careless mistakes, but I found Sheri Andrew's indecisiveness to be extremely sexy. In addition, there's nothing more obnoxious than a bikini model with well thought out goals. At any rate, Sheri Andrews is played by a human being named Christie Jakowpck and I thought she looked fabulous in her tri-colourd bikini.

Speaking of indecision, Alan eventually decides he that wants to keep the bikini shop (the lure of Ronnie and her tight bikini bottoms were no doubt a deciding factor). Unfortunately, he has already sold it to some transcendental cult looking to expand their global reach. To get the lease back, Alan, Todd, Ronnie, Cindy and Kathy must raise six thousand American dollars in a two weeks.

Sure, it's the middle of July, but still, that's a lot of bikinis.

The rarest weapon in any film's cinematic arsenal, The Malibu Bikini Shop gives us the sewing montage to end all sewing montages. I may regret saying this, but I think it's the greatest montage ever to involve stitching and synthesizers simultaneously. The resulting fashion show was just awe-inspiring, as it features Ami Julius and Galyn Görg prancing around in military inspired two-pieces. Smoke-filled and peppered with spotlights, the dreamlike display of Ronnie's camouflaged garments was the perfect companion to the intense tailoring that preceded it.

The idea that the general public would go completely gaga to cover their tender areas with green and black fabric wasn't too far-fetched, as I recall there being one month at my school where every other student was wearing camouflaged shirts and trousers.

Out of all the actresses who appeared in The Beach Girls, Debra Blee was the last one I expected to give a performance filled with shrill nuance and spiteful disdain. Playing Jane, the overly demanding fiancé, Miss Blee throws aside her docile tendencies and fully embraces her inner harpy.

Tossing himself across the screen with the vigour of a displaced rag doll, Bruce Greenwood utters party animal platitudes with a frenzied sense of desperation. Uncouth and disjointed like every other slob you see in movies like this, Bruce seemed to add an extra layer humanity to his slovenly creation.

Unfortunately, the aforementioned work of Debra and Bruce were the only performances in The Malibu Bikini Shop to merit any praise, as Michael David Wright and the others seemed to be lacking key attributes. Particularly one's that are crucial when it comes to creating a memorable character. They don't sink the film entirely, they just prevent it from attaining its rightful status as the best movie to be set in and around the daily operation of a shop that sells garish clothing intended to cover the lumps and crevices that our overly prudish society deem indecent.

video uploaded by TexasGuy09

...