Hard Ticket to Hawaii (Andy Sidaris, 1987)

Is there such a thing as bare nipple fatigue? How about rocket launcher sluggishness? If these phony-sounding afflictions are in fact real, I didn't succumb either as I watched the totally awesome Hard Ticket to Hawaii, a film dares to ask the question: Do these pink bikini bottoms make my ass look fantastic? Sporting a mission statement so straightforward, that you would have to be suffering from the world's worst subdural hematoma to not be able to pick up on it, writer-director Andy Sidaris (Malibu Express) seems to like two things: scantily clad women and pulse-pounding action. Did I say, "like"? It's more like he worships them. Drenched in magazine-quality bikini babes and featuring action sequences that involve blow up dolls, female body builders in mini-dresses shooting uzis from helicopters, and weaponized frisbees, there's a steadfast purity to Andy's version of what a spy thriller should look like. And not only that, he's profoundly committed to whatever is transpiring onscreen at any given moment. Take the snake subplot, for instance. He could have easily forgotten about it halfway through the picture. But, no, his dedication to his craft is so evident, that when the snake does eventually reappear after a long absence, you will no doubt think to yourself, much like I did: "Oh yeah, the snake's still out there." Besides, it would have been foolish not continue with the whole contaminated snake subplot. After all, a lot work obviously went into the creation of the snake puppet (Frederick Luff, "conceptioneering creature design"), and it ends up paying off quite handsomely when all is said and done, as it comes bursting out of a Molokai toilet, enabling the line, "Just when you thought it was safe to pee," to be uttered by our "hero" with a smarmy grace.

 

 

Turning our attention to less scaly matters, when you get right down to it, the film all about winsome women wielding uzis in a tropical paradise, nothing more, nothing less. Sure, not every babe, hottie, musclebound henchwomen, or sexually attractive hanger-on wields an uzi in Hard Ticket to Hawaii; in fact, I only recall seeing two who actually fire one in anger during the film's spry running-time. But, as my wise old Aunt Judy would say, "Two uzis are better than no uzis." Why every movie doesn't feature sexy ladies firing uzis has always baffled me. I mean, people love sexy ladies (well, at least they do in my frightfully specific universe), and I've yet to meet anyone who doesn't like uzis.
 

 

Choosing to build up the scenes where uzis are employed, Andy Sedaris gives us a prologue involving two Molokai cops who are murdered after they accidentally stumble upon an illegal drug lab run by Seth Romero (Rodrigo Obregón), a brief encounter between Rowdy Abilene (Ronn Moss) and Donna Hamilton (Dona Speir) aboard the Malibu Express (yeah, that's right, Cody Abilene's boat from the film Malibu Express - they're obviously related), and a surprisingly clever opening credits sequence (the names of the cast and crew are stenciled on shipping crates).
 

 

Basking the in the sun as she waits for her partner to finish her morning swim, we meet Donna again. Except this time, she's not kissing a man who looks like the guy who plays Ridge on The Bold and The Beautiful. A secret agent who moonlights as an employee of Molokai Cargo, Donna and Taryn (Hope Marie Carlton) deliver people and goods to various points on the island, a lush, dewy place that will make your eyes melt. Transporting a couple on their honeymoon and a contaminated snake (they don't know it's contaminated - the label fell off in the cargo hangar) in their Cessna, the two blondes, both wearing khaki shorts and cowboy white boots, fly through the air as synths, rock guitars, drums provide the soundtrack for what is basically scenery porn.
 

 

After dropping off the honeymooners on an isolated beach, Donna and Taryn are confronted by a remote control helicopter as their walking back to their plane. The toy chopper lands in front of them and its doors open. As they're removing the item's that are inside it, two goons in Hawaiian shirts (which I guess in Hawaii are just called "shirts") start shooting at them. I'll admit, firing at the ladies was a tad harsh, but try to see it from their perspective. You've been instructed by your ruthless boss to pick up a package that will be delivered by via remote control helicopter, and when you go to collect it, two exceedingly blonde women in khaki shorts are messing with it. I don't know, call me crazy, but I thought Donna and Taryn were the ones in the wrong. I mean, they're not cops. What gives them the right to tamper with toy helicopters that don't belong to them? 
 

 

Narrowly escaping death (I've decided to let the whole toy helicopter controversy go), Donna and Taryn (who pockets one of the items from helicopter - see, she's a thief, too! let it go, man) head back to home base. In other words, unload and hit the jacuzzi.
 

 

Meanwhile, over at Edy's, a local eatery, we're introduced to Edy (Cynthia Brimhall), the chick who, you guessed it, runs Edy's, Ashely (David DeShay), the maître d', some random woman named Charlotte (Shawne Zarubica), I'm still trying figure out what the purpose of her character was (just kidding, no I'm not), and, of course, Seth Romero, who tells his henchmen after he learns of their incompetence that, "If brains were bird shit, you would have a clean cage."  
 

 

Judging by the bemused expression on his face, Seth (what kind name, by the way, is that for a drug lord?) really wanted what was inside that toy helicopter. And I can't say that I blame him, as Donna and Taryn soon discover what riches the chopper was carrying while enjoying a topless soak in their government subsidized jacuzzi. Truth be told, I was too busy keeping tabs on their respective bikini bottoms: Donna's lower half was barely sheathed in a pair of purple panties, while Taryn's ass crack rocked a red thong. But I did manage to notice that Taryn was in fact holding a diamond between her fingers.
 

 

While practicing their kung-fu on the deck of the Malibu Express (complete with un-PC "ching-chong" speak), they get word that's there's "trouble in paradise."If they think there's trouble now, wait until a couple of Seth's henchpeople come looking for the diamonds. My favourite of Seth's henchpeople has to be the totally buff Rosie (Lory Green), who throws Taryn around like a rag doll. Considering the diamonds aren't theirs in the first place, Donna (turquoise shorts) and Taryn (pink shorts) put up a pretty good fight; the former even manages to shoot Seth in the face. But don't worry, it just grazed him. What you should be worrying about is the fact that the contaminated snake broke free during the kerfuffle.
 

 

Deciding that they need to unwind and celebrate the fact that they "just shot Seth Romero in the face," Donna and Taryn head down to Edy's for some white wine. Hanging out at another table, we're introduced to Taryn's fella, J.J. Jackson (Wolf Larson), a vitamin-obsessed sports caster. (Huh, I had no idea the word "antioxidants" existed in 1987.) Oh, and make sure keep an eye on Michelle (Michael A. Andrews), the bartender at Edy's, there's something different about her. All right, who am I kidding? It's obvious that Michelle is a man in drag. 
 

 

This may sound a tad harsh, but I thought Michael A. Andrews was way more convincing as a woman than Dona Speir, and she was born a woman. I don't know, there was something about her that caused her come across as mannish (even her big hair didn't sit right with me). The fact that she refers to her own mannishness at one point made me feel a little better. But still, I found her aura to be totally unbecoming. What can I say? I'm not a big fan of white pumps when paired with pastel-coloured shorts. Add the fact she spells her first name with only one 'n' was irritating for some reason.
 

 

Someone who was not in danger of coming across as unbecoming was the gorgeous Hope Marie Carlton, a woman who clearly has a plethora of complicated thoughts rattling around inside her head at any given moment. It's true, putting a bunch of Playboy models in a movie has its pluses and minuses. But Hope proves that being attractive (even while wearing a hair raising scrunchie) and having an ebullient personality aren't mutually exclusive. You really get a sense of this while watching the scenes where she drinks white wine in a white thong and the one where she speaks Spanish to a couple of sumo wrestlers. In the former, she's just plain sexy. But in the latter, she's a complete goofball, yet she manages to retain her femininity.
 

 

Now that I've established my position on the whole contentious Dona Speir vs. Hope Marie Carlton issue (You down with H.M.C? Yeah you know me), let me try to get my head around the infamous rocket launcher blow up doll skate board sequence. An assassin tries take out Rowdy and Jade with a shotgun as they're on their way to meet up with Donna and Taryn. Sounds simple enough. But the fact that the assassin is riding a skate board, carrying a blow up doll, and, according to Rowdy, has been "smoking some heavy doobies" is causing my brain to throb ever so slightly. It didn't help matters that Rowdy decides to thwart skate boarder's assassination attempt by blasting him and his inflated friend with a rocket launcher. And if you thought both were blown to bits with one rocket, think again (think a third time, if necessary). Both the assassin and the doll are destroyed separately. Are you saying what I think you're saying? Yeah, he kills the assassin with a rocket, then fires another rocket at the blow up doll. As you might expect, the head containing my brain has yet to recover. 

 

 

Watching Shades (John Dunne), an uzi wielding henchman, play frisbee with Colleen (Colleen Nakasone), the owner of a great ass (Rowdy's words, not mine) on a beach near Seth Romero's hide out with their high-tech surveillance equipment, Donna and Taryn are in the recon phase of their elaborate plan to take down the slimy drug lord; oh, and rescue Edy (didn't you hear? she was kidnapped). How elaborate is this plan exactly? Well, I don't want to give to too much away, but let's just say, noise grenades, a motorized glider thingy, a frisbee affixed with razor blades (Shades in for a nasty surprise), spiky claw gloves, and, of course, a rocket launcher (fired indoors this time around) are all employed at one point during the operation.
 

 

Oh, and we finally get to see women fire uzis, as both H.M.C. and Lory Green use them during the film's final showdown. Actually, Hard Ticket to Hawaii has about three final showdowns: 1) The Siege on Seth Romero's compound 2) The Return of the Contaminated Snake Returns. 3. High Rise Comeuppance. The best part of final showdown #3 was H.M.C.'s outfit (I loved the way she looked in that white dress shirt - very chic).

uploaded by bmoviereviews

Malibu Express (Andy Sidaris, 1985)

Since my track record with films that contain the word "Malibu" is pretty rock solid, I decided to dive headfirst into Malibu Express while wearing nothing but a black lace négligée and a smugger-than-usual smirk on my face. I'm curious, did the floppy nature of the lace on your négligée happen to get caught on say, a protruding branch or rock before your body hit the film's bosomy surface with a resounding thud? No, but why do you ask? No reason. Actually, that's not entirely true. You see, I desperately wanted to see that precious smirk you always seem to wearing wiped clean off your exceedingly punchable face, and was interested to know if this film, written and directed by Andy Sidaris (Hard Ticket to Hawaii), was able to put a dent in that pompous bubble of unsubstantiated self-satisfaction you seem to float around in. Well, that's good to know. It's funny you should mention smirking, because the hero in this particular venture does a whole lot of smirking. In fact, he smirks so much, that it caused a riff to form in that special section of the space time continuum that oversees the implementation smirks within the known universe. While some folks might take issue with the amount of smirking that transpires in this flick, I, on the other hand, had no problems whatsoever with its abundance of first-class simpering. Besides, if you were a babe magnetic on the level of which Darby Hinton is as Cody Abilene, your inflamed hindquarters would be fleering like a bi-curious banshee in heat as well. Call me loopy and unhinged, but I feel sorry for all the heterosexual men who inadvertently stumble across this film while cleaning out their tool sheds. On top of sporting a red DeLorean DMC-12 (non-structural brushed stainless steel catnip for the straight boy in all of us), the sheer number of hotties and temptresses who prance, gesticulate and cavort about during this unnecessarily convoluted enterprise will cause the genitals of the discerning men in the audience to melt into a pile of thoroughly emasculated goo.
 

 

Okay, maybe "thoroughly emasculated" is somewhat of an overstatement. But I guarantee, they're will be goo. Why? Well, because there's not a dud in the bunch. Every actress, and, I'll be the first to admit, the term "actress" is a bit of a stretch in some cases, whether they're playing a race car driver with large breasts or a phone sex operator with delicate toes, puts in a herculean effort in terms of putting their body on the line for the benefit of art. There were times when I thought the wanton display of womanly flesh was a tad excessive, but, for the most part, I...Wait a second. Did you just use the words "flesh" and "excessive" in the same sentence?!? Bad pervert. 
 

 

You might have noticed during all that smirk talk that I called Cody a "hero." Now, as most as people know, I don't usually use that term, as I find it be crass and unseemly. However, I'm willing to make an exception in Cody's case, because his desire for justice doesn't leave a trail of bullet-ridden corpses. Sure, henchmen do end up getting shot, some even lose their lives at the end of the day, but Cody's lack of skill when it came to the handling of firearms means that there a lot henchmen walking around out there who wouldn't be if he wasn't such a lousy shot. We get a firsthand taste of his firearm incompetence when Cody takes his trusty .44 Magnum down to firing range in the films opening scene. Sure, as he brags later on (he hit the board that held the target), but none landed on the actual target. 
 

 

Fans of antiquated technology will dig the opening credits, as they feature a secretary (complete with long fingernails) typing out the names of the cast and crew on an old computer. Which is fitting since the film is basically about unsavoury characters trying to sell American computers to the U.S.S.R.
 

 

Undaunted by his lousy showing down at the firing range, Cody heads over to the race track in his red DeLorean DMC-12 to meet June Khnockers (Lynda Wiesmeier), his race car driver girlfriend, and Rodney (Jeanine Vargas), her official photographer. I don't know what the purpose of this scene is exactly, but it does give us our first sighting of a pair of naked breasts. They belong to Miss Wiesmeier, and I must say, I wasn't that impressed. The sight of Lynda and Jeanine standing with their backs to the camera as Cody drove off, on the other hand, was quite impressive. Seriously, this film is gonna have its work cut out for it if it expects to top the image of Lynda (teal) and Jeanine (purple) standing on a race track wearing short shorts.
 

 

Two gals from Corpus Christi named Fay (Kimberly McArthur) and Faye (Barbara Edwards) make a valiant attempt to steal Lynda and Jeanine's thunder by surprising Cody at his house boat, the Malibu Express. And, judging by the amount of heterosexual drool that littered floor, they were  pretty successful. Again, I can't quite tell you what purpose this scene is supposed to serve in the grand scheme of things, but from the perspective of a rarely shaven, down of his luck bikini inspector, it was greatly appreciated. Just for the record: Faye's the brunette in the blue bikini and May's the blonde in the pink bikini twirling a baton.
 

 

It's a good thing Sybil Danning shows up when she did, as I was beginning to think that this film was going to be just a series of random scenes where some blonde dude with a mustache interacts with a bunch women who can't act. One of the few actresses in this film with any experience, Sybil commands the screen as Contessa Luciana, a secret agent working to stop the Russians from stealing U.S. technology. Wearing an alluring red and black off the shoulder number with shades (the entire ensemble looked like something she might have "borrowed" from the set of "V"), talks to some guy about who knows what. The important thing is that she's supposed to meet Cody for dinner. Bringing her a dress to wear, Cody, after she gets changed, accompanies Luciana to a fancy eatery. The dress Cody brought her, by the way, a red sequined monstrosity, was downright awful. Anyway, after wining and dining her, Cody smokes cigarettes and has dehydrating sexual intercourse with the contessa, in that order.
 

 

Given the task...Oh, have I mentioned that Cody is a womanizing private investigator from Texas? Well, he is. Given the task of watching over the Chamberlain's, a rich, mildly eccentric family living in Bel-Air, Cody ingratiates himself their matriarch, Lady Lillian Chamberlain (Niki Dantine), in order to find out who's been selling computer technology to the Soviets. Pulling up in a beat up Ford (the DeLorean needed to be serviced), Cody meets the aforementioned Lady Lillian, Shane (Brett Baxter Clark), their live-in butler/chauffeur, her daughters Anita (Shelley Taylor Morgan), a leggy gal with a perm (who enjoys tennis) who's having an affair with Shane on the side, and Liza (Lorraine Michaels), a non-permed brunette who might enjoy tennis (how the hell should I know?) who is also having an affair with Shane on the side, Anita's husband Stuart (Michael Andrews), who Cody thinks might be a little "light in the loafers," who is, of course, having an affair with Shane on the side, and Maid Marian (Robyn Hilton), their sexy housekeeper, who, for some strange reason, wears a giant blonde wig; I'm not entirely sure if she's having an affair with Shane on the side or not. But given Shane's voracious appetite for tight wet holes, I would be surprised if he was penetrating the maid's plush, fishnet pantyhose-adorned pussy on a semi-regular basis as well.
 

 

Just when I was starting to think that there were way too characters for me to keep track of in the Malibu Express universe, they introduce us to Sgt. Beverly (Lori Sutton), Cody's best friend/exercise buddy/occasional sex partner, and Peggy (Peggy Ann Filsinger), some brunette gym patron who appears in two scenes. In fact, why am I even mentioning the gym patron? Um, hello? She looked hot in a pink leotard. Yeah, but...No, you're right. That's a good enough reason. But still, half of these people have no business being in the film industry. Just because you were born with larger than normal breasts doesn't mean you should be allowed to utter dialogue in motion pictures, especially one's that have plots. I'm well aware that I'm contradicting what I said earlier about there not being "a dud in the bunch" when describing the "actresses" who appear in this movie. But now I would like to clearly state, with the exception Miss Danning, of course, that all the women who appear in Malibu Express are, for the most part, terrible actresses.
 

 

Anyway, it turns out that Shane doesn't have a voracious appetite for tight wet holes. Oh, sure, he doesn't mind doing it; penetrating them, that is. But the real reason he's doing it because he wants to blackmail them in order to help pay off the 30,000 dollars worth of gambling debts he's racked up. Using "state of the art video," he films himself having sex with the Chamberlain girls, Stuart included, and plans to extort money from them at a later date. Well, that "later date" has come sooner than expected, as the mob want their 30k right now. He decides to shakedown Stuart while driving him to a nightclub on Sunset Blvd., but he's having nothing of it. Why should he care? Everyone knows he's a card carrying friend of Dorothy. Following Shane's limo to the club, Cody is shocked when he discovers that Stuart has emerged dressed as a woman (he got dressed, or should I say, "glammed up," in the car). And not just any woman, a "gorgeous woman," as Cody puts it. Yep, I totally agree with Cody on this one, Michael Andrews is a fox.  Oh, and the fact Cody was able to appreciate Stuart's stunning appearance made me like him even more. He may be a good ol' boy from Texas, but he knows an attractive drag queen when he sees one.
 

 

At a swanky party being held at the Chamberlain estate the very next day, a catty Liza tells Anita that the maid was, and I quote, "Raped by two homosexuals. One held her down and the other did her hair." Ouch! At any rate, despite the fact that a lot of plot-based intrigue occurs during this particular shindig (one that allows women to wear sunglasses indoors), all I could think about was the sight of Sybil Danning in that snake skin bikini. I mean, damn!
 

 

Employing the help yet another character, Sexy Sally (Suzanne M. Regard), a sex phone operator with nice feet, Cody tracks down a lead. Luckily, Sgt. Beverly (whose feet are just as nice as Sexy Sally's) is there to bail him out when the bullets start to fly. While there's no doubt he's super smooth when it comes to the ladies (he practically has to beat them off with a stick), he can't shoot for shit. Just like his ability to appreciate an attractive drag queen, Cody's lack of skill when it came to firearms was oddly endearing.
 

A dumb movie with an overly complicated plot (Cody's explanation of all the plot details is exhausting), Malibu Express is lighthearted escapism for those who love naked breasts. Speaking of which, I don't know who told Lynda Wiesmeirer that her breasts had the power to persuade men to her bidding, because I thought they mostly induced sadness. If I would have to peg anyone in this movie to be in the possession of the kind of power to persuade others, it would have been Lori Sutton or Shelley Taylor Morgan, as their attractiveness seemed to come from a moist and sincere place.  

 

 

Ironically, the film's only genuine laugh is attained by an uncredited Andy Sidaris, who plays a Winnebago driver who picks up Cody and Lynda Wiesmeirer (and, yes, the reason he stopped was because Lynda flashed her breasts) after they get stranded in the middle of nowhere. Don't worry, though, it's not all tits and drag racing (Cody is periodically challenged to drag race by the Buffington family), Maid Marian wears fishnet pantyhose, Sexy Sally wears legwarmers at one point, Shelley Taylor Morgan looked absolutely smashing in her tennis gear, and don't forget about Peggy Ann Filsinger and her pink lycra spandex get-up.

uploaded by fredhogarth