The Dallas Connection (Christian Drew Sidaris, 1994)

Feeling charitable, writer/director/hapless fake tittie enthusiast, Andy Sidaris, after the debacle that was Enemy Gold, has elected to give his son, Christian Drew Sidaris, a second stab at writing and directing his own movie. And the result is pretty much the same old crap. But this time, there's a unique twist. You see, in The Dallas Connection... Hold on, who am I kidding? There's no unique twist. I was right the first time around, this is pretty much the same old crap. If that's the case, why the hell I'm watching this? I mean, I'm not contractually obligated or anything like that, so, what gives, man? Oh, I know why. I'm glutton for punishment and obviously a bit of a closet masochist. Either way, there's a ton of stuff to make fun of in this film. And not only that, the film features the Sidaris debut of Wendy Hamilton, a tall, shapely brunette with an erection amassing ass. Unfortunately, this film is also marks the Sidaris debut of Julie K. Smith, one of the most untalented women to ever to appear in an Andy Sidaris production. Hey, I know, that's a harsh thing to say, but some people need to be told they can't act. It's clear, however, that Andy Sidaris never got around to telling Julie K. Smith that she's a talentless hosebeast, as he, for some bizarre reason, decided to cast her in another two movies. That's right, I have to sit through two more movies with  this charisma-challenged dolt. Yeah, yeah, I technically don't have to do anything. But I might as well finish what I started.

It should be noted that Wendy Hamilton can't act, either. It's just that she looks somewhat natural compared to cosmetic freak show that is Julie K. Smith, and Samantha Phillips (also making her Sidaris debut), whose tits look like non-jiggling chunks of flesh-based polyurethane. My point being, Wendy stood out for me in terms of  being less awful.

Oh, and when I say, "can't act," I'm using my own personal criteria to assess their acting ability. In other words, I'm not judging them from some highfalutin, Stanislavski angle. All you have to do to impress me as an actor is say your lines in a semi-coherent manner, or, at the very least, talk in an exaggerated fashion, one that is on the cusp of being entertaining. However, I'm sad to report, Julie K. Smith, Wendy Hamilton and Samantha Phillips do not fit into either of these categories. They're simply terrible and shouldn't have made it past the audition stage.

Well, I would have still cast Wendy Hamilton. But in a non-speaking role. I mean, look her! Her bum is sublime. To deny the world the sight of Wendy's killer booty whilst ensnared in a thong/leotard (a thongtard?) or in a thong that is attached to some kind of lime green wetsuit would be a crime.

Let me quickly look over my notes regarding this film... Oh, man. It says here the film opens in Paris, France. Yes, the shots of famous Parisian landmarks were definitely authentic, but there's no way I'm buying that the bedroom where Julie Strain's Black Widow is putting a studded leather collar around the neck of a hunky French scientist is anywhere near France. I mean, check out the light coming through the window, it's so freaking bright. No, that light is way too harsh to be French. Things only get worse when we're shown the outside of the house Julie Strain and the French scientist guy are having sex in, as the house practically oozes suburban Dallas.

You think that's bad, wait until we're whisked off to South Africa and Hong Kong.

Wearing purple fishnet stockings, Black Widow has rough sex with the French scientist, then shoots him between the eyes. Picked up by Platter Puss (Cassidy Phillips), Black Widow is driven to an airplane hangar (totally in France), walks across said hangar (still totally wearing purple fishnet stockings), hops aboard a jet that is being flown by Fu (Gerald Okamura), and heads to Dallas, Big D, D-Town; but not before refueling in Newfoundland. Woo-hoo! Canada finally gets a shout out in an Andy Sidaris production.

After some stock footage, no doubt lifted from Wild Kingdom, we see Cobra (Julie K. Smith) blow up a South African scientist using a bomb attached to a remote control car. Jeez, the Sidaris's and their obsession with vapid chicks with fake tits and remote control cars and boats is starting to sap my strength.

The action soon turns to Hong Kong (complete with aerial stock footage of Victoria Harbour) where Scorpion (Wendy Hamilton) blows up a Chinese scientist on a golf course. This scene is great because it features lots of shots of Wendy Hamilton bending over in a short skirt.

As you might have guessed, Black Widow, Cobra and Scorpion are assassins. But why are they targeting scientists? That's a good question. Oh, wait, here comes Nicholas Lang (Roland Marcus), the leader of I/WAR (International World Arms Removal), I'm sure he'll explain everything.

Paired with an I/WAR agent named Samantha Maxx (Samantha Phillips), Nicholas explains the reason why these particular scientists were targeted while flying from Washington to Dallas. (How come everyone is flying to Dallas?) Excellent question. Wait, no it's not. The film is called "The Dallas Connection," not "The Penetanguishene Connection" for a reason.

Anyway, I can see why Roland Marcus was given the task of explaining the film's plot, as he's the only actor in the cast who can string more than two sentences together without pulling a brain muscle. I'm not implying he's a great actor or anything like that. But his lengthy, jargon-heavy monologue detailing the film's plot gets the job done.

Oh, sure, Samantha Maxx (her crossed legs sheathed in black stockings) chimes in every once in a while during Nicholas's monologue. But I didn't buy for a second that she knew what she was talking about. And, no, not because she's a woman, but because she's a clueless twit.

When Black Widow, with Platter Puss and Fu in tow, arrives in Dallas, she's heads straight for–you guessed it–Cowboys Club and Restaurant. And, yay! Would you look at that, Kym Malin is still the club's choreographer/night hostess.

Like me, Kym is watching Cobra and Scorpion practice their stripper routines while taking notes. Hmm, I wonder if Kym's notes are the same as mine? 

My notes basically say: Wendy Hamilton's bum is sexy. Julie K. Smith sucks.

A fourth scientist, an Argentine named Antonio Morales (Rodrigo Obregón) is in Dallas, and obviously needs protecting.

Anyone know why the flag of Zambia is flying outside a building in Dallas, Texas? Could it be the headquarters of The Zambia Association of Dallas Fort-Worth (ZADFW)? Call me, oh, let's say, someone who is not of sound mind, but the sudden appearance of the Zambian flag is so far the only thing that's remotely intriguing about The Dallas Connection.

After Black Widow, Platter Puss and Fu pay a visit to the I/WAR headquarters, the dead bodies they leave in their wake are taken care of by Coroner #1 (Larry Hicks) and Coroner #2 (Ken Meeks). Now, I'm not sure which is which, but one of these guys utters the best lines in the entire movie.

Yeah, yeah, I know, Julie Strain's "After you finish with those guys, rape these bitches and kill 'em... I know I would," is pretty great and all, but the actor playing the coroner who says, "Billy Joe, you better bring more tape... this boy is huge," while marking the outline of one of the dead bodies is hilarious. His delivery, in terms of comic timing, was spot-on. Of course, as is the case with most of the actors who display anything close to resembling talent in these films, he's never seen or heard from again. Boo!

Instead, we're saddled with a bunch of no-talent ass-clowns. Like, Bruce Penhall, who, at one point, says, "look lady," to Kym Malin's Cowboys choreographer/night hostess. Can you believe that? The nerve of this guy. I wanted to eat his taint for breakfast and not leave a tip after he said that.

And things only get worse, as Bruce Penhall says, "You should have read your fortune cookie," after blowing up Gerald Okamura with his grenade launcher. When I heard him say that, I nearly keeled over. (Did you nearly keel over as a result of being outraged? Or did you nearly keel over as a result of laughing too hard?) Let's just say I was genuinely shocked by the scene's casual racism. Whether I laughed or not... I'll never tell.

This film would turn out to be the last of this type to be written and directed by Christian Drew Sidaris, as his father Andy gets back in the director's chair for the next two adventures (yay?). And, yep, that's right, there are only two left (yay!).