Showing posts with label Amir Shervan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amir Shervan. Show all posts

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Killing American Style (Amir Shervan, 1990)

We have leggy floozy adjacent black pantyhose being adjusted. I repeat, we have leggy floozy adjacent black pantyhose being adjusted. In the opening scene no less. I couldn't help but notice that your eyes lit up when I mentioned that the adjustment-worthy black pantyhose was adjacently attached to a leggy floozy. And you know what it means if a film boasts a leggy floozy right from the get-go, right? Yes, it usually means there will be more leggy floozies to come. But it also means that the leggy floozy boasting motion picture in question was probably directed by the great Amir Shervan, the writer-director of classics like, Samurai Cop and Hollywood Cop. In the annals of sleazy exploitation cinema, there are Andy Sidaris women, Russ Meyer women, Tinto Brass women and Jess Franco women. But none of these so-called women can hold a candle to the Amir Shervan woman. Sure, their parts aren't as big (and by "parts," I mean the size of their roles, not the size of their tits) and some times they're not even listed in the credits, but Amir Shervan's talent for casting attractive women is second to none.


We get a taste of this talent almost immediately, as Killing American Style opens with a group of haphazardly assembled leggy floozies that are all vying for... Now, I'm not quite certain what exactly they were all vying for. But I do know this, these leggy floozies definitely want to impress John Lynch (John Lynch), who is giving them the once over in the dank backroom of some sleazy nightclub.


After giving it some thought, I've come to the conclusion that the leggy floozies assembled for John Lynch are auditioning to be strippers at his club. But, in a way, they're also auditioning to be his girlfriend, as John Lynch wrangles up a busty blonde with killer thighs in a new wave leotard and takes her into the ladies toilet to give her test run.


Oh, and don't let John Lynch's gay porn star good looks fool you, he's a heterosexual man, and don't you forget it.


I don't know where the busty blonde with the killer thighs came from (she wasn't in the initial flock of leggy floozies when the audition began), but when she saunters onto the makeshift stage, the other leggy floozies must have been shaking in their non-designer pumps.


Using a chair as a prop, the busty blonde with killer thighs destroys the competition with her flirtatious dance routine. Well, actually, I wouldn't call it a "dance routine," it's more a series of sultry floozy-friendly poses. But nevertheless, the look on John Lynch's face as the busty blonde with killer thighs crawled around on the stage said it all.


However, that doesn't mean there's no room for the other leggy floozies to move in the John Lynch's floozy-centric organization. In fact, the two women who went on before the busty blonde with killer thighs, the petite blonde in the black pantyhose and lithe brunette in the cut-off jean shorts, are both seen sitting at Jon Lynch's side later on in the movie.


I loved it when John Lynch says, "Can anybody do what I want 'em to do?" To which the busty blonde with killer thighs responds, "I can."


I don't know what the leggy floozies that auditioned before the busty blonde with killer thighs did that was so off-putting, but the manner in which John Lynch dismisses Casey, a blonde with a knack for impromptu pantyhose adjustment, and Lonnie, a lithe brunette in a torn jean jacket and cut-off jean shorts, was quite cruel.


While John Lynch and the busty blonde with killer thighs are getting to know one another better in the ladies room, Tony Stone (Robert Z'Dar) shows up to do some hardcore cock -blocking. You could say that Tony is doing the same to the busty blonde with killer thighs, as she wants to get fucked just as much as John Lynch does. But instead of using the term cock-blocking, I think clam-jam is the more appropriate term.


Anyway, he better have a good a reason for pulling John Lynch away from a sure thing like that. Playing out like a Grand Theft Auto V "Strangers and Freaks" side mission, Tony Stone, John Lynch and two other criminals, plan to rob a trucking company. Except for the fact that they end up killing some guards and some cops as well, the heist goes pretty smoothly. Unfortunately, the guard they thought was on their side blows his cover and gets caught. Rolling over on Tony and John Lynch, the guard fingers them without hesitation.


To make matters worse, the cops try to arrest Tony just as he's pounding his super-hard cock into the excessively moist pussy of his platinum blonde lady-friend. And even though a shirtless Tony makes a valiant effort to escape, he's arrested on the front lawn of his safe-house. In a way, it serves Tony right, as he now knows what it feels like to have his cock cock-blocked by outside forces beyond his cock's control.


Meanwhile, at a local eatery, John Lynch, who is surrounded by a bevy of gorgeous women, including the busty blonde with killer thighs and Casey (who is wearing a teal zebra print leotard), is confronted by the cops and arrested on the spot.


Just like the truck depot heist, the scene where Tony's brother (Alexander Virden) and his uncle Loony (Jimmy Williams) rescue Tony and John Lynch while they were on their way to prison plays out like a video game side mission.


When Tony's brother is shot in the abdomen by one of the guards, Tony and John Lynch decide to hole up in a house located on a horse ranch. Arriving while Jenny and Doris (Veronica Paul) are lounging by the pool, Tony and John Lynch would have got the jump on them had it not been the latter's proclivity for hot chicks.


And believe me, Jenny (pink bikini) and Doris (red bikini) are hot chicks.


They eventually get inside the house, where Tony tells Jenny to take care of his brother (she's apparently a nurse or something) or else he'll kill Doris.


I think I speak for almost everyone when I say the leggy lady cop in the short skirt deserves more screen time.


The world's of Amir Shervan and Andy Sidaris briefly collide when Harold Diamond shows up. An "actor" best known for being in Andy Sidaris' Hard Ticket to Hawaii and Picasso Trigger, Harold Diamond plays the so-called man of the house and is none-to-pleased when he finds out that his wife, his sister-in-law and his annoying blonde son are being held captive by a bunch of ruthless criminals.


Directed to a Nevada cat house called "The Gay Paris" located just outside of Mosquito Springs by one of Tony's associates, Lt. Sunset (Jim Brown) is hot on the heels of Tony and John Lynch. I know, you're wondering why he's directed to a cat house and not Harold Diamond's ranch. Well, it's simple, really. You see, Tony's stepmother works at "The Gay Paris," and Lt. Sunset knows for a fact that she is in possession of the money from the truck depot score.


Figuring that Tony will try to contact his stepmother, Lt. Sunset, along with Choo-Choo, a cop who looks like a pimp, head over to "The Gay Paris" to have a chat with Tony's stepmother.


Did I really say the busty blonde in the new wave leotard had "killer thighs"? Don't get me wrong, they're still killer. But if her thighs are killer, then how would you describe the thighs attached to the organic structure belonging to the blonde in the red short-shorts at "The Gay Paris"?


Either way, the blonde with the more killer than usual thighs is the first to greet Lt. Sunset and Choo-Choo when they arrive at "The Gay Paris."


Informing her fellow floozies that a man is coming, the blonde with the explosive thighs (yeah, explosive thighs, I like that) immediately starts pawing at Choo-Choo the moment he walks in the door. Say what you will about Choo-Choo's fashion sense, the way he gravitated towards the blonde with the explosive thighs was one of the sanest decisions I've ever seen captured on film.


I don't mean to imply that choosing any of the other leggy floozies would have been crazy. I'm just saying, the blonde with the explosive thighs is in a league of her own.


If you remember my review of Amir Shervan's Hollywood Cop, I was forced to flesh out the leggy floozies in the film's prerequisite leggy floozy scene myself. Giving each leggy floozy her own back-story based on the leggy or not-so leggy way they sat on the couch, I struggled to come up something interesting to say about each leggy floozy.


This was not the case with the leggy floozy scene in Killing American Style, as each leggy floozy is given a liquid-based innuendo to spout at Jim Brown, whose fully-engorged black genitals must have been aching to break-free from their navy chino prison after this scene was over.


Swarming around Jim Brown like a pack of wild animals, each leggy floozy takes turns propositioning him with a liquid-based innuendo.


The first, a blonde in a short skirt and black pantyhose, says to Lt. Sunset: "Hi, I've got champagne... everything inside me bubbles."


Seconds later, a floozy with reddish hair, approaches Lt. Sunset from the other side and says: "Hi, I've got some soft drinks... everything about me is soft."


Another floozy with reddish hair (her tight dress has these cool coloured squares down the side), holds up her drinks and says: "I've got the hard stuff... 'cause I love it hard."


If you think that's it as far as floozies go, think again: A brunette in blue says: "Honey, they say I'm backward because I like it in the back." Okay, now they're not even trying anymore. Not only is what she said not liquid-based, it was barely an innuendo.


Finally grabbing a drink from the tray being carried by a blonde with a white fur boa, Lt. Sunset tries to get down to business, but a racially ambiguous blonde in pink, who calls herself, "Heavenly," insists on sticking her tongue in his ear.


When Choo-Choo, the floozy in the coloured square dress, the blonde with the explosive thighs, and the bubble-laden vagina chick see this unorthodox ear cleaning taking place, they all laugh. And with that, ends one of the greatest scenes in cinema history.


Much to my chagrin, the action soon returns to the ranch house (noooo!). It's too bad the whole film couldn't have been about Jim Brown and Choo-Choo fending off the advances of an armada of leggy floozies, because this home invasion plot isn't scratching me where I itch anymore, especially since Jenny and Doris have changed out of their bikinis. Yada, yada, yada, things spiral out of control, and Harold Diamond shows his Asian doctor friend how to kill... American style. The end.


Sunday, February 16, 2014

Hollywood Cop (Amir Shervan, 1987)

Hollywood cop?!? Yeah, right. Hollywood opportunist is more like it. Swooping in like a hungry vulture who has just spotted a wounded wildebeest, Det. Turquoise (David Goss, who, you might remember, was a production assistant on last season's The Bachelorette), "Turkey" to his friends, might look like he wants to help a struggling single mother get her son back from a gang of ruthless gangsters, but he's got an ulterior motive. Don't let his sort of strapping good looks or his fondness for denim fool you, he's got six million dollars on his mind. I know, how is a "struggling single mother" gonna scrounge together six million dollars to pay the gangsters who are holding her son for ransom? She isn't, but if she wants to see her son alive again, she better find out where her ex-husband is hiding, as the gangsters expect him to pay the hefty ransom. You see, her ex-husband stole six million from the gangsters, and when the gangsters discover his ex-wife living on a communal ranch outside of town, the gangsters attack it with the sole purpose of snatching their son. As expected, the regular cops drag their feet when it comes to investigating the possible whereabouts of her missing child. Oh, sure, they fill out all the necessary paperwork, but finding little Stevie (Brandon Angle) isn't exactly their top priority.


(Are you sure that when Det. Turkey, and his partner, Jaguar (Lincoln Kilpatrick), approached a sobbing Rebecca (Julie Schoenhofer) on the street outside police headquarters in Hollywood, California that he had money on his mind? I mean, it looked like he was genuinely concerned about her welfare.) In the early going, yes, he was "genuinely concerned." But the moment he found out there was six million dollars at stake, his whole demenour seemed to change.


(You're crazy.) Am I? Things are never what they seem in the shadowy world of writer-director Amir Shervan (Samurai Cop), and the hard-boiled Hollywood Cop is no different in that regard.


(I agree, you should always be on guard when dealing with an artist on the level of Amir Shervan, but I think your innate cynicism is clouding your judgment.


It's true, he probably had poontang on his mind when he decided to help out a wayward soul, one who just happens to be an attractive blonde. But I assure you, money wasn't a factor in his decision.)


Let me get this straight, you mean to tell me that Turkey risked his life to assist some woman he barely knows, and he's doing it strictly out of the goodness of his heart? Is that what you're telling me?


Moving on, a sort of sneak preview of the sheer awesomeness we're going to experience in the not-so distant future with Samurai Cop, you could view Hollywood Cop as a dress rehearsal for what's to come. Lacking the incompetent sheen that made Samurai Cop so great, Hollywood Cop has all the right ingredients: The prerequisite white cop-black cop partnership; a ponytail-sporting policewomen in lady police pants (unlike Peggy in Samurai Cop, who will fuck anything with a pulse, the lady police pants worn by the policewoman in Hollywood Cop, as Turkey finds out, aren't so easy to get into); sofas covered in leggy floozies; a gruff, Tums-popping police captain (hey, it's Cameron Mitchell); tons of bumbling henchmen; a synthy music score; and overlong car and foot chases.


I'm sure most Amir Shervan connoisseurs will agree that this film is missing a certain something, or, I sould say, a certain someone. You know what it's missing? Robert Z'Dar! Every five or so minutes, I would think to myself: This film could use a little Robert Z'Dar right about now. Oh, who am I kidding? This film could use a lot of Robert Z'Dar. But you know what? He's not in this film, so stop being such a big baby.


As horny henchmen are fighting over the right to feel up a leggy babe in a short black skirt by the pool, their boss, Feliciano (James Mitchum), shows up demanding to know how the plans for the upcoming raid of a communal ranch are coming along. According to one of the more sensible henchmen, the one not named "Animal," the raid is ready to go.


Get this, as the raid is about to get underway, Rebecca tells Stevie to stop washing his pet goat. And even though she tells him to stop washing his pet goat in the nicest way possible, it would be a shame if that was the last thing Rebecca ever said to little Stevie.


I'm curious, when Rebecca went to the police to report that her son had been kidnapped by gangsters, did she mention the fact that the gangsters shot and killed dozens of ranch people during their elaborately planned raid? 'Cause I'm sure they would take her case more seriously if they knew a massacre had occurred just up the street. Just kidding, I'm not curious about that. No, what I really want to know is, did Stevie's pet goat survive the raid?


Anyway, I think it's time we met some leggy floozies, don't you? Assembled for the benefit of Feliciano, the leggy floozies hope to work at one of his clubs.


A total of eight leggy floozies are hoping to work for Feliciano: #1 - A floozy in a shiny bluish red top with spaghetti straps and dark trousers. (Hey, how come you didn't call her a "leggy floozy"?) Um, she wore trousers, and therefore she lost the right to be called "leggy." #2 - She doesn't sit with her legs crossed (a must for leggy floozies), but she is wearing a modest white dress with what looks like a pair of tan stockings.


Leggy floozy #3 definitely knows how to get noticed. Poured into a little black dress, leggy floozy #3 will no doubt drive her potential boss wild with her unorthodox sitting style. While not as forthright as leggy floozy #3, leggy floozy #4, who is wearing a dark dress with short sleeves, counters #3's forthrightness with a sitting technique that practically screamed haughty chic.


Someone get leggy floozy #5 a handbook on how sit like a leggy floozy, as her sedentary method was all over the map when it came to reclining in a manner becoming of leggy floozies.


The only one smart enough to employ the majestic splendour that only black stockings can provide, leggy floozy #6 destroys the competition with her leg-tastic display whilst in the seated position. Wearing a blue sequined top, a black skirt, and, of course, black stockings, leggy floozy #6 also earns points for being the only leggy floozy to sport a hairstyle that had any pizazz.


What's this, it would appear that leggy floozy #7 is attempting to use the arm rest of the couch to enhance her legginess. At first, I was somewhat annoyed by this bit of couch-based chicanery. But then it dawned me, she's just doing whatever it takes to get a leg up in the cutthroat world of leggy floozies. And at the end of the day, you've got to admire that kind of ingenuity.


I would have liked to have included leggy floozy #8 in this unnecessarily detailed examination of the leggy floozies that appear in a two minute scene in Hollywood Cop, but she never sits down. How can I judge your worth as a leggy floozy if you don't sit down? It's impossible.


After a Hollywood-centric montage set to a song that featured lyrics like, "desperation... nowhere to run!" we meet Turkey as he's about to bust up a rape and robbery. Instead of waiting for Lt. Maxwell (Troy Donahue) to show up, Turk decides to take care of it himself. I know, how can he take care of it when he just ordered a hot dog? (Don't worry, the hot dog cart lady said she'll keep it warm for him while he kills him some rapists.) Yeah, but, when he's done doing that, he doesn't pick up the hot dog. (Yeah, he does. I heard him specifically tell the hot dog cart lady to put some ketchup and mustard on it.) I heard that, too. But trust me, he never eats it. (You mean to tell me that he made the hot dog cart lady jump through multiple hoops to keep his hot dog warm and never bothered to eat it?) That's right. (What an ass.)


Getting a tip from a guy who runs a bar that specializes in mud and oil wrestling, Turkey and Jaguar manage to track down Rebecca's ex-husband.


His name is Joe Fresno, and I dig his style.


(Isn't Rebecca's ex-husband supposed to be worth six million dollars?) Yeah, so?


(Well, the size of his backyard does not reflect his so-called wealth.)


His backyard? You're looking at his backyard? Some people. At any rate, I have no idea who plays Joe Fresno, but... (Yeah, yeah, you dig his style.) You're goddamned right I do.


(Does Rebecca get her son back?) What son? (You remember, the little blonde kid who can communicate with mean-looking guard dogs.) Oh yeah, him. (Well, does she get the kid back or what?) I don't know, who gives a shit. I've got less important things to think about.


It should go without saying, but Hollywood Cop sort of sucks, but it also sort of rules as well. In other words, when a film like this calls you collect, you should definitely accept the charges, 'cause your ass is about to be entertained.