Guns (Andy Sidaris, 1990)

If ever there was a movie that lived up to its name, it isn't Guns. Oh, sure, it's got guns, plenty of guns; it's got guns up the wazoo. But I think the title sells itself short. This film, Andy Sidaris' latest attempt to make Dona Speir a movie star, has more going for it than just guns. It's got opera glove-wearing nightclub singers, magic shows, brunette-on-brunette violence, ninjas, stockings, and dyke bar-quality oil wrestling. Though, it should be noted that the so-called "opera glove-wearing nightclub singers" scene involves guns to some degree (the lyrics, and the song's title, for that matter, are both gun-centric), and the brunette-on-brunette violence involves guns, too. In fact, everything I just mentioned, even the stockings, involve guns in some shape or form. I guess I better just except the fact that this movie is called "Guns" and move on. I know you implied that you were going to move on, but how on earth does one combine stockings and guns? If there's anyone who knows how to mix stockings and guns, it's Andy Sidaris. Now, I'm fully aware that this the first Andy Sidaris film since Malibu Express to feature nylons of any kind. But you have got to remember, all the films made in-between Malibu Express and Guns take place almost exclusively in Hawaii. And, as most people know, Hawaii and hosiery don't exactly go together. Just in case you're not most people, the reason they don't get along is because of the island's climate. You see, it's humid in Hawaii. In other words, it's not the most nylon-friendly environment to wear stockings, pantyhose, or even socks. Don't believe me, pay close attention to all the scenes in this film that take place in Hawaii, you won't see a single pair of nylon-ensnared gams or knee-sock adorned feet anywhere.
 

 

You know what else I missed seeing during the last two Andy Sidaris films? Wow, you know me all too well. That's right, I'm missed the rampant transvestism. Okay, I wouldn't call Malibu Express and Hard Ticket to Hawaii films that are drenched in cross-dressing (mmm, films drenched in cross-dressing). I wish they were, but they ain't. However, at least they dealt with the subject. If you remember correctly, both films feature male characters who dress in drag, and surprisingly, given the film's action movie pedigree, both treat the subject in a respectful, nonchalant fashion. You could even say the films are trans-positive. But let's not get carried away.
 

 

Much to my chagrin, the two previous Andy Sidaris films were totally lacking when it came to cross-dressing. Well, I'm happy to report that Guns finds transvestism back where it belongs. An Andy Sidaris film without cross-dressing is not a true Andy Sidaris film. And I'm even happier to report that it's back in a big way in Guns. How so? I got two words for you: Transvestite assassins!
 

 

When you ask the average slob why they watch Andy Sidaris films, they'll tell you that they watch them for the hot chicks. I, on the other hand, watch them for...the hot chicks. Just kidding. I watch them for the off chance that one of them might boast a pair of transvestite assassins. And Guns delivers two of the most memorable transvestite assassins in film history.
 

 

Just so you know, I love the words "transvestite" and "assassin," so be prepared to hear the two words repeatedly slammed together over the course of this...whatever, the hell this is.
 

 

As I watched the Andy Sidaris films that proceeded Guns, I would always think myself, why doesn't Andy give Cynthia Brimhall a bigger role? (She wasn't even in Savage Beach.) Clearly more attractive and more talented than any of the other mouth-breathers that appear in these movies, to see Cynthia constantly relegated to the sidelines was unacceptable. Well, fear not fans of people who are clearly more attractive and more talented than Dona Speir, Cynthia Brimhall is about to get her chance to shine.
 

 

Headlining the Rio Casino in Las Vegas, Cynthia Brimhall's Edy Stark has finally hit the big time. No longer stuck greeting restaurant patrons in Molokai while wearing pastel-coloured mini-dresses, Cynthia is on stage performing "Guns" for a captive audience. Sure, the audience is mostly made up of degenerate gamblers and mid-level mobsters, but this Las Vegas, baby! And you know what? She ain't bad. I mean, I was totally humming the line, "Don't play with guns / They ain't no fun" after the film was over. It also helped that the song is heard again over the closing credits. But still, it was catchy and Cynthia has definitely got the goods. It didn't hurt that she was wearing a cleavage-accentuating bra, opera gloves, and a sparkly blue thong while she performed the song in question.
 

 

After the show is over we meet Juan Degas, a.k.a. the Jack of Diamonds, a semi-suave gun runner. Do you want to know who plays this semi-suave gun runner? You do? Okay. Are you ready? The semi-suave gun runner  is played by none other than Erika Estrada! That's right, Ponch himself. Look at me, acting like I'm the world's biggest Erika Estrada fan. My memory of CHiPs is foggy at best, and I don't think I've ever seen him in a movie before. But I have to say, his performance in Guns is outstanding.
 

 

You know how it didn't hurt when Cynthia Brimhall decided to wear that sparkly bra/thong combo when she performed the film's titular ditty? Well, it didn't hurt that Erika Estrada's right hand man throughout Guns is played by Danny Trejo. I'm telling you, if you thought the sight of Erika Estrada acting duplicitous was awesome, try picturing him acting like that while Danny Trejo is standing next to him. It doesn't get any better than this.
 

 

Oh, really? It doesn't get any better than that, eh? It's obvious you never seen Kym Malin walk down the streets of Lake Havasu City in a pair of super-tight sea green trousers before. 
 

 

Anyway, after informing a couple of would-be assassins that the 's' in his last name is silent, Juan Degas tells the would-be assassins, Cubby (Chu Chu Malave) and Tito (Richard Cansino), that he wants to hire them.
 

 

Much to my displeasure, it's not Donna (Dona Speir) that he wants dead, but her new partner, Nicole Justin (Roberta Vasquez). Hey, what happened to Hope Marie Carlton? She's not in this movie. In fact, Savage Beach was the last Andy Sidaris film she ever appeared in. Did they explain what happened to her character? Nope. Man, that blows. Well, at least Rocky (Lisa London) is back. Um, yeah, about that.
 

 

If you remember, I was quite taken with Miss London's brief appearance in Savage Beach (yeah, I remember). And it looks like she's still "busting heads and baking bread." Speaking of remembering stuff, do you recall the scene in Savage Beach when Rocky gets a bread making machine delivered to her restaurant? No? Well, I do. And I appreciated the fact that there's a reference to Rocky's bread making in Guns. These films have a tendency to reward attentive viewers.
 

 

You won't believe what happens next. How should put this? Let's just say Rocky has baked her last loaf of bread. You mean? Yep. On the bright side, she's killed by two guys dressed in drag. How is that on the bright side? I don't know, people say weird shit when they're in mourning. At any rate, instead of killing Nicole, Cubby and Tito, who, like, I said, are dressed in drag, put a bullet in the head of an another brunette (Allegra Curtis), one who just happened to be wearing the same dress Nicole was wearing.

 

"We're born naked, and the rest is drag." ― RuPaul
 

 

As Cubby and Tito are changing out of their clothes, Juan Degas is testing out a new Chinese made sub-machinegun. How did I know it was "Chinese made"? Oh, I don't know, the guy selling them was Chinese. (The reliably Chinese George Cheung, a.k.a. the limo driver from The Beach Girls, plays a Chinese gun salesman.) Wrong. It was because the gun had a red and gold, communist-style star on the handle. Wait. What kind of idiot would put a giant red and gold star on a gun? Let it go, man. It's only a movie. 
 

 

Spotting the assassins leaving the women's washroom, Nicole has a hunch that the Rocky's killers weren't women, but guys dressed as women. This hunch leads to an extended helicopter-airplane chase (yawn). But don't worry fans of transvestite assassins, Cubby and Tito get away. As expected, this tragic event leads to Lucas (William Bumiller), the leader of a secret network of federal agents, to assemble a team in order to stop Juan Degas' dastardly plan, which, I guess, involves guns.
 

 

Finding Edy Stark is a piece of cake, since Lucas, and his sidekick Brown (John Brown), who still hasn't found a jacket that fits him properly, are stationed in Las Vegas. Am I seeing things, or do Cynthia Brimhall's boobs look bigger than they were in Picasso Trigger? Hmm, interesting. Either way, I'm placing Kym Malin at the top of this film's hottie list (she looks amazing in this film). It's funny you should mention Miss Malin, as Lucas and Brown find Kym (Kym Malin), a.k.a. "Kyller Kym," and her glistening torso, wrestling against Hug Higgins (Donna Spangler) at "Oil Mania."
 

 

Also on the team are Bruce Christian (Bruce Penhall), Shane Abilene (Michael Shane), and Abe (Chuck McCann) and Ace (Liv Lindeland), who perform a magic act at the Rio Casino.
 

 

It's during the team's meeting in Lake Havasu City that we get to see Kym Malin in those super-tight sea green trousers I alluded to earlier. Call me, oh, what should I ask others to call me today? Oh, I know. Call me a cantankerous cold sore with three months to live, but I'd rather watch Kym Malin strut about in those super-tight sea green trousers, than watch any of the exhaustive action scenes that take place in this film. Also, the sight of Kym Malin cruising drag bars in a leather bra and fishnets (keep an eye for Sidaris regular Rodrigo Obregón as "Large Marge" during the drag bar sequence), guarding the casino's rear entrance during the film's finale, or the part where she contradicts Dona Speir (contradict that narcissistic hosebeast) all made Guns a worthwhile experience.    
 

 

How are Juan Degas and Tong (the actual name of Danny Trejo's character), going to be able to stand up to the team Lucas has assembled? I mean, two guys against ten federal agents? It doesn't seem fair. Well, Juan Degas has a leggy surprise in store for them. A leggy surprise, you say? A leggy surprise. Her name is Cash (Devin DeVasquez), and she desperately wants to kill something. Remember that brunette-on-brunette violence I mentioned earlier? It rears its full-bodied brunette head when Devin DeVasquez (Society) and Cynthia Brimhall go toe-to-toe with one another. Their first encounter involves cattiness, the second involves mirrors, a yellow towel, and a couple of silenced pistols.
 

 

Don't forget, Juan Degas still has Cubby and Tito on the payrole. How could I forget them? What's cool about Cubby and Tito is that they dress in drag in their spare time as well. Hold on. You thought they only dressed in drag when they killed people? No, no. They take cross-dressing very seriously. 

 

If it couldn't get any worse for Dona Speir, she has to endure being upstaged by the gorgeous Phyllis Davis (Sweet Sugar), who plays the attorney general of Nevada. And get this, we're supposed to believe that Phyllis Davis is Dona Speir's mother. Even though Phyllis is at least twenty years older than Dona (so, yeah, the math adds up), I thought, well, let's just say, their roles could have easily been reversed. Instead of seeing that as yet another slam against Dona Speir, I have chosen to view it as a compliment to Phyllis, who looks terrific with blonde hair. I also dug the pencil skirt/black stockings combination she wears throughout the film, as there's nothing sexier than a confident woman in her late forties who dresses for success.

guns trailer uploaded by asidaris

Sweet Sugar (Michel Levesque, 1972)

It's somewhat ironic that the fleshy limbs dangling from their torsos are sometimes called "stems," because that's precisely what the attractive stems belonging to the ladies of Sweet Sugar (a.k.a. She Devils in Chains) have to put up with on a daily basis. Let me stop you there for a second, "dangling from their torsos"? Who talks like that? Oh, shit. I know what you're doing. You're about to start typing a bunch of words that revolve around legs, aren't you? Please tell me you are, because I love it when you write about those kooky appendages. Every time you go on and on about gams, stems, wheels... whatever (give us a spin, doll), my crotch seems to go from being a dry, brittle place that no-one wants to lick to a profoundly wet one filled with fresh gullies, humid nooks, and the dampest of crannies. Well, fear not my soon-to-be moist friend, that's exactly what I plan on doing. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, stems. Human females, as almost everyone knows, are born with stems (it's true, human males also have stems, but nobody I know wants to ejaculate anything of note in their general direction). As they mature, these so-called stems not only increase in size, but they acquire shape and definition, which will allow them to carry out a wide array of tasks. You know what else on this planet has stems and grows slowly over time? Plants, or, to be more specific, sugar cane and marijuana. A woman's stems, just like their stems, are highly sought after commodities, ones that have spawned entire industries whose sole existence is centered around exploiting the metaphorical meat swinging seductively off their succulent branches. Sure, they may sprout naturally from your body and the ground respectively, but like all natural resources, there are going to be those who will want to make a substantial profit by selling your stem cells to the highest bidder.

A brunette prostitute named Sugar (Phyllis Davis) working the streets of, oh, let's say, Tijuana, Mexico, all of a sudden finds her sexy, perspiration-stained stems standing in the middle of a sugar cane field in, oh, let's say, Costa Rica, after being framed for marijuana possession (don't ask me why Mexico is sending its drug offenders to Costa Rica, I'm just making this up as I go along). Anyway, did I just blow your mind or what? What are the odds that three of the most important stems in the long and somewhat storied history of stems would wind up in a locked battle with one another? Pretty remote, if you ask me. While the leafy stems of the marijuana plant are the reason Sugar is sentenced to two years hard labour, it's the lanky, course stems of the sugar cane plant that end up causing her stems the most grief. You'd think they would get along since they're both sweet, extremely tough, and go great with your morning coffee. Unfortunately, the criminal justice system and an amateur mad scientist named Dr. John (Angus Duncan) have driven a wedge between Sugar and her botanical allies.

Arriving at a remote plantation in a truck with a bunch of other ladies, whose stems are just well-proportioned as Sugar's (and so they should be, as they're always trying to flee, and, as most personal trainers will tell you, fleeing is great for tightening up those pesky calve muscles), the wily prostitute in the purple mini-dress is handed a machete and told to cut sugar cane all the day for very little money.

Speaking of garments that are miniature in stature, a leggy (which should go without saying in a film as leg-friendly as this one, but I thought hers were extraordinary) woman in a yellow mini-skirt does most of the fleeing during the film's early going. Sadly, the strength of her extraordinary legs let her down, as she is easily caught by one of the guards. After punching her in the face a few times (a gentle slap would have suffice, but this guy was obviously in a punching mood), the guard prepares to collect his free rape. Oh, didn't you know? The plantation guard rule book clearly states that any guard who catches an inmate while attempting to flee shall be rewarded with one free rape. Luckily for the leggy rapee, Simone (Ella Edwards), a fellow prisoner, decides to help out by placating the rapists with her afro-centric charm. "Why mess with that scrawny thing when you can have me," she tells the guards before fornicating with one of them in the bushes. And it's good thing she stepped in when she did, as the guard's partner was just about to remove her iconic yellow mini-skirt (the plantation rule book also states that the guard's free rape may be shared with up to five other guards).

Just as the women are starting to come to terms with the grim reality of their arid surroundings, they meet Burgos (Cliff Osmond), the burly brute who oversees daily operation of the plantation with a hairy-knuckled fist, Max (Albert Cole), a mustache-sporting guard who sees himself as some sort of renaissance man, and Ricky (James Houghton), a horny yet socially awkward guard, who, with the help of Max, hopes to romance one of the new arrivals. Yeah, that's right, I said "romance." It would seem that not all the guards are dirty psychopaths. In fact, Max and Ricky don't seem like they belong there at all, as their carefree attitudes seem more in line with that of camp counselors than prison guards. Anyway, Dr. John, the aforementioned amateur mad scientist, is the actual owner of the plantation and shows up on horseback just as the ladies are getting off the truck.

While perusing some of the film's promotional material, I couldn't help but notice that all the women on the poster, including Phyllis Davis, are wearing cut-off jean shorts. After I was finished studying it, I thought to myself: There's no way they actually dress like this in the movie. If my scepticism sounds a little misguided, you have to understand, I've been burned many times in the past by films that openly flaunt their cut-off jean short-related content. Ultimately failing to deliver the denim-deficient goods I so wantonly crave, these jean-short inadequate films are a blight on humanity. Well, you should have seen my reaction the moment Sugar was handed a pair of cut-off jean shorts along with her machete, I was bouncing up and down like a hyperactive little girl with an unfunny form of cerebral palsy.

It turns out, cut-off jean shorts are standard issue for all the female workers at Dr. John's super happy fun time plantation and jean short emporium, thus nullifying any chance that Sweet Sugar might wind up being a real stinker. After all, I got my cut-off jean shorts, and that's all that really matters in the grand scheme of things. Fortunately, the film, directed by Michel Levesque, is sleazy in all the right places, and takes the leggy women in peril genre to new and unsavoury heights.

Okay, I'll admit it, the heights are definitely unsavoury, but they're not all that new (it's pretty basic stuff when looked at from a cockeyed angle). I know, that whole bit I did about stems makes the film seem more like a tangled trip through an intellectual vortex, than a seedy slab of uncouth exploitation. But I'm one of few people who has the skills necessary to decipher what writers R.Z. Samuel (story) and Don Spencer (screenplay) were trying to convey with their cinematic examination of the complex relationship that exists between a woman's legs and the plant world. In other words, you're gonna have to trust me when it comes to the newness that Sweet Sugar brings to the table.

As any sane individual with all their faculties intact, I want to start lavishing praise on the quality of the catfight that takes place in this movie. But then I remembered, I despise the term "catfight." To call the campfire brouhaha that Phyllis Davis's Sugar and Ella Edwards' Simone engage in over Mojo (Timothy Brown), a voodoo priest, a "catfight," is a tad demeaning. Besides, why would you call their dust-up a "catfght" when the film features an actual cat fight?!? You heard correctly, there's a fight and it involves cats.

You see, Dr. John, on top of boasting about the agreeable shape of his well looked after genitals, loves to tinker with science (the guy's a huge fan of ethnopharmacology). And, get this, he's currently working on a serum that will rid women of their frigidity. When he's not devising convoluted ways to force women to appreciate the rectum-challenging girth of his penis, he can be seen bragging about his greatest triumph: a serum that drives docile kitties insane. Itching to try out his new serum, Dr. John, with the help of a couple of guards, throws a bunch of drug-addled cats in the direction of Sugar and her leggy clique. Scratching and clawing at their defenseless thighs with an abrasion-causing glee, the hopped-up felines make mince meat out of their soft, supple flesh.

Keen observers will notice that Dolores (Pamela Collins), a bewildered blonde with a terrible work ethic, is knocked to the ground like a sack of dirt during the cat chucking incident. Unlike Sugar, whose moxie is unshakable, Dolores seems ill-equipped to handle the hardships that come with lengthy sentences at out of the way labour camps. In an act of pure naivety, Dolores tries to ingratiate herself with Dr. John ("Forget it, LaRue. This is Polynesiantown") by playing the underage damsel in distress card. However, instead of receiving preferential treatment, she ends up getting experimented on. What kind of experiments, you ask? Well, let's just say, there the kind of experiments that make you walk funny when all is said and done.

When Dr. John says, "take off your sweater... it's perfectly all right, I'm a doctor," to Dolores, that should have been her cue to jump out the nearest window (don't worry, honey, the sweat that has been accumulating in your socks over the course of the day will cushion your landing, that is, if you're lucky enough to land on your feet). Oh, and just because someone says they're a doctor, doesn't mean they're an actual doctor. In fact, no-one is really a doctor, it's a completely made up vocation, much like, "psychiatrist" or "music critic."

I'm tired of Dolores and her average, cock-teasing ways, let's get back to Sugar and her savage, cock-pleasing ways. Grabbing a guard named Carlos (Darl Severns), she literally plucks him out of the jungle, in order to feed her voracious appetite for coitus, Sugar takes a bath with him in Dr. John's bath! You gotta admire Sugar's audacity. I mean, taking a bath, and, not to mention, having sex in his bed, was a pretty ballsy move, especially when you consider the fact that Sugar had previously rebuffed Dr. John and his soapy schlong while he was standing in the very same bathtub. But that's just way Sugar operates. She doesn't think about the consequences of her actions, she lives in the moment, and that's why she's such an appealing character. I don't think there are any actresses working today who could possibly match the amount of swagger Phyllis Davis oozes as Sugar, whose body, not only allows her to communicate with cougars, but contains all the properties of the known pyschosexual universe.

Watching as the stems of the plantation's sugar cane plants burn, it becomes paramount that Sugar's stems, no doubt still coursing with the chronic residue from the dried marijuana stems she smoked in Tijuana, need to live to strut another day. At least, that's what I gleaned from the film's chaos-filled finale. It's important that her stems survive, and not just for the benefit of future generations, but for all the tragically flaccid men out there waiting for her shapely stems to bring meaning back to their pathetic lives.

video uploaded by lethalforcethemovie

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