For reasons unknown to me, my TiVo has decided that what I really need to be doing at this point in my life is revisiting those low-budget sex romps that proliferated during the 1980’s (and which went on relative hiatus during the 90’s until resurrected by American Pie and its ilk).
I haven’t watched any of them, but seeing the succession of titles is making me think about the genre as a whole. They’re supposed to be fun and disposable (and a lot of them are, e.g. Ski School), but some of them, on retrospective consideration, turn out to be more than a little disturbing, either for general content reasons or for a particular skin-crawling element.
Herewith a preliminary sampling of nominations:
My Chauffeur. The third-act incest twist is somehow made worse by the fact that the heroine is just ass-stupid.
Private Lessons. Sylvia Kristel aggressively seduces a 15-year-old kid. Mary Kay Latourneau’s favorite movie. Presumably.
Losin’ It. Mostly innocuous but for Tom Cruise mackin’ on Shelley Long, a Lovecraftian worm of an image that will never leave my brain.
Stewardess School. Also mostly innocuous, but don’t overlook the lecherous horror that is Donny Most.
RotN because of the lame ass set ups and the date rape.
RB because of the hookers taking high school boys.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the shows. But I have to accept that their subject matter would seriously creep a lot of conservative (not in a political sense) people out in real life.
The thought of Woody Allen in Victorian dress is laughably unrealistic, while the thought of José Ferrer having conjugal rights over Julie Hagerty is just realistic enough to make my blood run cold…
Reminds of of a Simpsons gag, when Bart gets a fake ID and they all sneak into an “adult” movie. On leaving the theatre, Nelson says “I can think of at least two things wrong with that title.” The movie showing is Naked Lunch.
Creepy leering 80’s sex comedies? I got Weird Science.
This was very disappointing to me when I finally got to see it – not nearly hot enough for my hormonal pubescent self. Also, crappy.
Eric Brown, Kristel’s lucky student, also starred in a movie with Sybil Danning that contains some of the least sexy softcore sex I’ve ever seen – not a comedy, more of a sex-mystery/thriller called They’re Playing with Fire.
I kind of remember enjoying My Chauffeur (mostly for Penn and Teller) and My Tutor for reasons beyond the prurient, but maybe that’s just my memory playing tricks on me.
Other offensive titles: there’s Hardbodies – three unattractive 40-something divorced men hire a beach bum to “introduce them” to bikini-clad beach chicks. The secret: treat 'em stupid. As I recall, it’s not nearly as good as this Joe Bob Briggs review makes it sound, even when you’re 14 or 15 or whenever it came to video.
And maybe the grand champeen: Blame It on Rio, wherein Michael Caine is seduced by his best friend’s 17-year-old daughter, Michelle Johnson. Inexcusably bad sex comedy directed by Stanley Donen of Singin’ in the Rain fame. However, at the time I saw it on video, Johnson was hot hot hot and I didn’t care about the squicky setup and not-at-all funny third act. (Not that the first and second acts were all that funny, actually, but the third act makes a throat-clogging leap towards seriousness that really doesn’t fit.)
As Vincent Canby put it in the New York Times:
Indeed.
Adolescent male hormones are pitiless in their refusal to heed bad taste, aren’t they?
