MALIBU EXPRESS: Blu-ray (Malibu Bay Films, 1985) Mill Creek

Tasteless, tacky, tawdry and trite, the cinema of producer/director, Andy Sidaris takes place in a teenage male fantasy-land, populated by booby-bursting blondes and brunettes in various stages of undress, pressed against big-haired, moustached and muscled-up guys who indiscriminately use their guns and crotches to make all the wrong executive decisions in life. That said, there is something strangely compelling and sycophantically sweet about Sidaris’ silly and slickly packaged equal-opportunity sexism; the cinematic equivalent of a barfly tease. For those too prim to watch ‘legitimate’ porn, Sidaris offers titillating take-aways that skate on the edge of softcore, with cardboard characters so grotesquely inarticulate, if simultaneously oversexed, it is a genuine wonder they actually get around to plot, in between blowing things up and raising the body count in tandem with our hot-blooded intrigue for such breast-obsessed B-budget/C-grade sex-capades. Sidaris, who died of throat cancer in 2007, is best known for these bullets and boobs B-movies produced between 1985 and 1998, with a stock company comprised mostly of has-been Playboy playmates and Penthouse Pets, failed bodybuilders plucked from the obscurity of Venice Beach, and, other less-endowed male wannabes, one step shy of a male escort service or becoming second-string soap stars. You get my drift: these are not ‘accomplished’ thespians. The caliber of acting ranges somewhere between ‘ouch’ and ‘boing!’; horse-pucky of the ‘so bad it’s probably good’ ilk. So, no aspirations to high art – or even, art – period – here; unless, those who made it were high at the time, which is highly possible!

So, it is as easy to forget Andy Sidaris began his career as something of a pioneer in sports broadcasting, directing coverage of literally hundreds of football and basketball games, Olympic events and special programming, with 7 Emmy’s to his credit and a lucrative 25-year tenure on ABC's Wide World of Sports. And Sidaris also branched out into legit programming in the mid-70’s, directing episodes for CBS’s Kojak and ABC’s Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteries. That he forsakes this solid reputation to indulge an adolescent side on the big screen remains something of a curiosity. For as certain as these salacious and silly flicks were an opportunity to further exploit the already exploitable ‘talents’ of the desperate and dumb, chumming around Hollywood with daydreams of making it in the big time, the pictures – although marginal moneymakers, were hardly breakout boffo box office dynamos to have encouraged Sidaris to make more.  Nevertheless, with his wife, Arlene, Sidaris made twelve movies – combining taut flesh and bad country music with exotic locales. In retrospect, Sidaris’ pictures are a cliché on steroids – car chases wed to gratuitous nudie shots (just for the hell of it, shower scenes) with a lot of bump-n-grind in between the flexing he-men and cavorting drag queens.  Does any of it make sense? Better question: does it have to?  Arguably, no. So, testosterone and titties get distilled into puerile camp in Sidaris’ Malibu Express (1985); a bizarrely infantile yawn (I mean, yarn!) that could only have emerged from the whack-tac-u-lar eighties, where anything went and usually could be pre-sold as a direct-to-video piece of schlock, guaranteed to recoup what it failed to make at the theater.

The opening scene tells us all we really need to know about what’s in store for the remaining 101 minutes. A blonde race car driver named June Khnockers (Lynda Wiesmeier) straddles our hero, ‘taking the top down’, as it were, for a shameless shot of some rather pathetically saggy cleavage. Sidaris stocks Malibu Express with four Playboy playmates, statuesque cult B-movie queen, Sybil Danning and, in the role of private eye, Cody Abeline, the lanky and fuzz-haired Darby Hinton, who cannot act his way out of a brown paper bag, but otherwise emits a strange likability that glosses over his shortcomings. In a bit of foreshadowing, Hinton began his acting career as a six-month-old, caressed by buxom bombshell, Jayne Mansfield in an episode of TV’s Playhouse 90. Nice work if you can get it. And for a while, in his teens, it looked as though he might go legit, with appearances in Disney's Son of Flubber (1963) and a cameo in ABC's popular western series, Wagon Train (1957-65). He even auditioned for the role of Fredrick (in knee-high socks and lederhosen, no less) in The Sound of Music (1965). His consolation prize: appearing as Fess Parker's son Israel, on Disney’s legendary Daniel Boone (1964-70) for the next six years. Thereafter, Hinton made the rounds, appearing sporadically in cameos – mostly on bad shows, with the occasional breakout on such smash hits as Hawaii Five-O (1968-80), Magnum P.I. (1980-88) and The Fall Guy (1981-86). He also found reoccurring work on the daytime soap, Days of Our Lives (1965-present).

From this inconspicuous start, Malibu Express seems like a real step down for Hinton: a descend into forgettable fodder that only gets cheesier and sleazier as the minutes wear on; the audience, encouraged to check the good sense God gave a lemon, and, any stitch of good taste, along with their sweaty knickers, at the door. Sidaris, who also wrote this one, is going for broke in crude humor with lines like “Did you hear? She got raped by two homosexuals. One held her down. The other one did her hair.” Cody also forewarns that his hands are used as lethal weapons, but that this could possibly create ‘issues’ when he ‘plays with himself’. The first film Sidaris made under his production company, Malibu Bay Films, quickly devolves into the sort of antics David Letterman could easily classify under ‘stupid human tricks.’ So, what about plot? Well, this one concerns Texas stud, Cody Abilene, a vacant, fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants sort, who lives aboard a yacht and has slutty gals draped all over his sinewy bod’ like a cheap polyester leisure suit. At present, two of these mindless minions are showering together aboard ‘the Malibu Express’. So, we are told, Cody is a hard-bitten realist and much sought-after private investigator. Herein, he teams up with the viperous, Contessa Luciana (Sybil Danning) and a police officer (Lori Sutton) to investigate a murder. One problem: our Cody cannot shoot worth a damn. Throwing everything he can at the screen to see what will stick, (and a lot does, like underwear that hasn’t been changed in a week), Sidaris gives us foolhardy flights into government espionage, the Russian Mafia and cheap blackmail, set in the moneyed playgrounds of an uber-affluent family. Sybil Danning’s walk-on is barely enough to get her out of her faux Jessica Rabbit red-glitter frock, pumping our Cody – and, no – not just for information either.

Cody’s latest assignment comes by way of a recommendation from the President of his yacht club. But soon, what seemed straight forward gets very muddled and heavily weighted in a Commie subplot, the Russians out to steal some undisclosed cutting-edge U.S. computer technology. The plan is for Cody to shadow wheelchair bound, Lady Lillian Chamberlain (Niki Dantine) and her languid and oversexed nieces, Anita (Shelley Taylor Morgan) and Liza (Loraine Michaels), both getting reamed in their spare time by Lillian’s beefcake chauffeur, Shane (Brett Clark). On route to the mansion, Cody encounters the Buffingtons – P.L. (Abb Dickson), Doreen (Busty O’Shea) and Bobo (Randy Rudy) for whom the Beverly Hillbillies would be considered highbrow.  We indulge in a bit of ‘off road’ – literally – subplot, as P.L. demands Cody settle an old drag racing score. Fueled by some high-octane gas, Bobo’s ride leaves Cody’s DeLorean in the dust. However, as the Buffingtons celebrate, Bobo’s car overheats and blows up. Aside: a lot of things blow up in Malibu Express – director, Sidaris as obsessed with the bang-bang as he is with banging.  

After his first ‘cute meet’ with the Chamberlains, Cody predictably heads to gym to ogle women working out. Meanwhile, Shane seduces Liza in the shower, snaps a Polaroid (it lasts longer!) and then casually walks away. What a prince! Next, Cody takes a dip in the Chamberlain’s pool, pulling a Rico Suave on the lovelorn Liza as the family’s maid, Marian (Robyn Hilton) serves in a smutty outfit. As this is going on, Shane is racking up his ‘frequent flyer’ miles on the other Chamberlain heir, Anita – who is married. Again, he films their flagrante delicto for posterity before skulking off. As Liza’s Mercedes is being repaired, Cody chivalrously offers to drives her into Palm Springs for an appointment with the uber- cagy computer magnate, Jonathan Harpe (Les Steinmetz). Cody is amused when Liza hands Jon a wad of bills; the exchange turning ugly as Jon’s steroid-infused goon squad, Matthew (Art Metrano), Mark (Richard Brose), and Luke (John Brown), intrude to grope Liza. Seemingly disinterested in what comes next, Cody excuses himself and drives off. Jon has Cody tailed, resulting in Cody’s car being run off the road in the middle of nowhere, followed by threats to perform a homemade castration. Instead, the boys shoot up Cody’s DeLorean, leaving him stranded in the desert. Again, we digress to a vignette unrelated to the…um…plot, as Cody hooks up with Sexy Sally (Suzanne Regard), the proprietress of a nearby junkyard. After a brief bump n’ grind, he asks her for the fastest ride back into town.

Meanwhile, at the Chamberlain mansion, Shane is contacted by a disgruntled bookie demanding $30,000 for outstanding debts. As Shane is cash strapped, he decides to blackmail Anita with their sex tape.  Instead, Anita storms out of the room. So, Shane threatens Anita’s husband, Stuart (Michael A. Andrews), who is moonlighting as a cross-dresser. Again, Shane is out of luck, as Stuart seemingly does not care who knows he has another life. He even has Shane drop him off at the Screaming Cockatoo – a seedy nightclub for the transvestite trade. At the Chamberlain manor, a ritzy soiree is in full swing, attended by the Contessa and Cody. Shane’s bookie, Vic, also turns up to hassle Shane for his money – threatening violence after getting him alone. This wrinkle goes nowhere. However, after the party, Shane is assaulted by a masked woman with an uncanny resemblance to Liza. She stabs him in the stomach, shoots him in the chest and leave him for dead. Before she exits the room, shutterbug Shane manages to snap a photo of her face. The woman makes off his Shane’s blackmail photos, but accidentally leaves behind the wrong camera with the as yet undeveloped photo of her on it. The next day, Cody and the Contessa discover Shane’s body, even as Marian spies on Anita, frantically searching Shane’s bungalow for the missing sex tapes. Cody intercepts her investigation and discovers the camera with the real killer on it, unaware it is evidence.

Enter Lieutenant Arledge (John Alderman). Finally, a real police detective gets involved! He has some ‘hard’ evidence – photos of Anita and Shane at the beach house. Cody and Arledge team up to conduct a search, accompanied by Arledge’s buxom blonde deputy, Beverly MacAfee (Lori Sutton). Surprise! Surprise! She and Cody were once…well…you know.  So, after Arledge leaves the two alone to search for clues, Cody’s first inclination is to take his ex to bed. Inadvertently, they unearth Shane’s remote, his hidden camera filming them having sex.  The plot thickens – or rather, curdles – as two new hit men, Tommy (uncredited) and Peter (Peter Knecht) pull into the drive-way in a black Ferrari with orders to kill Cody. Predictably, Cody and Beverly are prepared for the attack. As Cody cannot shoot worth a damn, Bev’ knocks off the attackers in short shrift. Because only Lady Chamberlain knew Cody was going to the beach house, he now surmises she must have arranged for this ambush. Ironically, this is the first, last and only time this ‘big reveal’ gets mentioned, and, subsequently, it has no bearing on the rest of the plot.

While Beverly calls for backup to clean up the crime scene, Cody retreats to his yacht for focus. Alas, the Buffingtons lay in wait at a nearby grocery story, demanding a rematch. Again, Cody obliges and again, Bobo wins. The Buffingtons ‘moon’ his victory. Meanwhile, back at the marina, Matthew, Mark and Luke lie in wait to assassinate Cody. In the idiotic hailstorm of bullets that follows, Cody actually manages to shoot Matthew’s ear off.  Hardly, a kill shot, but gruesome nonetheless, it sends the assassins fleeing. Luke’s clumsy search of Cody’s yacht does not produce the film. He escapes empty-handed with the others. Cody’s horny neighbors, who have come to indulge in a little recreational fun, are promptly kicked off the yacht so Cody can retire for the night. In the morning, Beverly informs Cody they have arrested Stuart for Shane’s murder. Cody now reveals he is in possession of the film earlier withheld from evidence. Next, he telephones Sexy Sally to get the film developed. As his neighbors have returned, still eager to ‘play’, Cody, reinvigorated by a good night’s sleep, takes the comely pair to bed. Afterward, Beverly informs Lady Chamberlain of Stuart’s arrest before departing for a rendezvous with Cody at Willow Springs Raceway. Again, the pair are pursued by Matthew, Mark and Luke, narrowly escaping in a heated car chase. At the raceway, Cody and Bev meet Sally’s ‘friend’ the photographer, Rodney (Jeanine Vargas) who develops the ‘mysterious’ photo in a darkroom. Cody instructs Rodney to print a second copy – a blow-up of just the face.

Given the close proximity of Matthew, Mark and Luke, it is a wonder it takes them as long to arrive at the raceway – guns blazing. Beverly is wounded in the shoulder. She manages to give Cody her purse with the incriminating photo. Another chase – on foot, this time, and another display of clumsy marksmanship (honestly, can any of these fools hit anything?). Oh right, they kill an innocent bystander on a motor bike! But in the ‘never-clever-land’ of this movie, Cody’s six-shooter fires more rounds than a WWI machine gun – none making contact with anything. Matthew flips out, preparing to use a live grenade. Instead, he is thwarted by his cohorts. Cody and June take her race car and drive post haste into the desert while this trio of baddies reconvene, steal a copter and pursue them by air. The race is even ‘hotter’ on the ground as June, seemingly oblivious to the danger afoot, now tries to mount and ride Cody while he barrels away from the crime scene at almost 200 mph. Nearby, the copter lands, dropping off Matthew, Mark and Luke. Cody hits Matt with his car, crashing through a nearby billboard. Yet to let go of his grenade, Matt pops its pin, blowing himself to pieces before he can die of injuries sustained in the hit and run.  

As a diversionary tactic – gratuitous, flesh-baiting to a fault – June flashes Luke; the distraction, allowing for Cody to shoot him in the side. Cody then picks up Luke’s 12-gauge and knee-caps Mark. The pair are lightened of their firearms and left, wounded to fend for themselves in the desert. Presumably, having painted the plot into a corner – and with not even the prospect of another sex scene to connect the dots, director, Andy Sidaris simply turns up in a Winnebago as the token passerby, who benevolently drives Cody and June to a ‘guns and ammo’ shop to retool. There, Cody telephones Elizabeth, before departing for a topless party at Jonathan Harper’s mansion in Palm Springs. Attempting, with zero finesse, to bottle the loose ends to this never-ending plot, Liza complains to Jon, who is forcing her to watch the sex tape Shane made with Anita. Cody’s intrusion clears the room. Only Jon and Liza remain.  Now, Cody confronts Liza about murdering Shane. She denies it. But Cody shows her the photo – definitive proof she is the killer.  Lieutenant Arledge and Elizabeth arrive and arrest Liza. Again, to the Buffingtons – demanding another showdown with Cody. This time, Cody whips Bobo, leading to tearful regrets. Cody races back to his yacht where all of the principles are gathered for the ‘big reveal’. Liza is exposed. She is not Shane’s killer as she is left-handed and the person in the photo was holding the murder weapon in their right. As everyone else at the soiree on the night of the murder was far too intoxicated to commit such a crime, only one illogical conclusion remains. Contessa Luciana is the killer. What?!?!? Rather much too conveniently, Cody discovered a confession at Luciana’s home. She is presently living in Hawaii, but admits in the note to killing Shane. Her motive: he was ruining the Chamberlains’ good name, but was also involved in the black market selling of top-secret American computer technology to the Russians. The note concludes with a personal invite from the Contessa, for Cody to attend and ‘service’ her when time permits.

Malibu Express is a curiosity to review. Its plot is so needlessly elaborate (with enough hairpin turns for 3 movies) that, merely to chronicle it in this review, was a rather shameless exercise in exposing bad screenplay writing. Andy Sidaris, who wrote and directed this entre into cheap smut run amok, is obviously enjoying every minute of his excess. The movie never takes itself seriously. Not that this was ever Sidaris’ intention. And I must admit, some of the blue dialogue left me with a wicked little grin, as in ‘it’s so bad, it’s terrible’. The eighties were not a politically correct decade, folks. But in some ways, I would have their time again – just not with more gaudy/bawdy flicks like this one to recommend the decade. Nor should Sidaris’ tenure in picture-making be considered the template for how any movie from any vintage should be made because, as the minutes wear on, it becomes painfully clear Sidaris has lost all interest in making even a mediocre movie, mistreating the audience as idiot ticket buyers. When Sidaris can think of no other reason or way to paint himself out of a narrative corner (and, this happens quite a lot), he merely presents a never-ending bevy of over-sexed naked cuties, eager to strip off their unmentionables – or, inserts yet another inane vignette costarring the Buffington buffoons – or, sets up another ‘action’ sequence where even the most innocuous objects blow up in a hellish fireball.

Fast cars and fast women are the modus operandi here. But even these stalwarts of camp wear out their welcome long before the end. Malibu Express teeters and tempts on the edge of softcore. I might have even afforded it props if it were pornography, going for broke in that erection (whoops, I meant, direction!). But again, Sidaris isn’t making a movie – not even a pornographic one. Just the cinematic equivalent to gaudy, gooey and garish gumbo. Nothing wrong with that either, I suppose. It likely appealed to the navel-gazers who just want some crotch-jockeying background noise to fill dead air – and even duller minds. The badly bungled, Agatha Christie-styled ‘locked room’ finale (apologies to Dame Christie for even associating her good name with this tripe) leaves the viewer flat without even a payoff in pure unadulterated farce.  And Sidaris, while aspiring to be Hefner-esque as the purveyor of puerile pop-u-tainment, slants hard right in his chauvinism. Even so, it takes a lot more to get our knickers in a ball. It always did, much as Sidaris would like to convince us that the spend-spend eighties were only about teased hair, flashy cars, and, tight packages rubbing against one another. Not much else to say about Malibu Express, except it remains a sex-stench, salacious story in desperate search of purpose. While Darby Hinton’s P.I. is palpably patronizing, this movie is hardly a pleasurable experience.  P.U. and, who needs it?!?

Mill Creek lets us rediscover the cinema of Andy Sidaris by creating a 4K transfer for standard Blu-ray, properly framed in 1.78:1. Long ago, the original elements on Malibu Express were lost, presumably, down Sybil Danning’s cleavage. So, this new 1080p transfer hails from a print master and is, in a word - problematic, from the outset. Everything appears slightly soft and hazy with some built-in telecine wobble and an amplification of film grain. Curiously, all of the aforementioned shortcomings appear more egregious on the first reel than elsewhere throughout this movie.  Mercifully, most of the image is quite stable, scrubbed of its age-related artifacts without compromising its grain structure. Fine detail is wanting and colors, while pronounced, remain slightly on the flat side. Blacks crush and shadow detail is very anemic.  The 2.0 DTS audio is adequate, but just, with solid dialogue, and SFX, like screeching tires, gunshots, and explosions, sounding tinny and strident.  Mill Creek has included all of the extras from BCI Eclipse’s original DVD release; an oddly informative audio commentary by Sidaris and his wife, Arlene, and brief featurettes, cumulatively adding up to just under an hour, on the making of the movie; plus, an intro, hosted by Sidaris and a topless Julie Strain, and, trailers for this and Sidaris’ follow-up project, Hard Ticket to Hawaii (1987). Bottom line: some movies improve with age. Others rank under the even more perplexing category of ‘so bad, it’s good’. Malibu Express falls into neither of these categories. The transfer is better than average but well below par for what gets advertised as ‘remastered from a 4K scan’. Judge and buy accordingly. Or pass, and be very glad that you did!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

0

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

3