By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Alice Laussade
By Scott Reitz
By Claire Lawton
By Kiernan Maletsky
By Anna Merlan
Women are Now. Men are Later.
Women wanna talk about it now. Men wanna talk about it later. Women wanna go out to eat Tonight. Men wanna go out to eat Tomorrow.
Women wanna go to the beach when they Feel Like It. Men wanna go to the beach when they Plan A Trip. Women say, "We never spend any money." Men say, "We never save any money." Women say, "I decided to quit my job today." Men say, "I decided I'll quit my job whenever I get a new job."
Women buy stuff they need when they need it. Men buy stuff they need when they're convinced they can't wait any longer. Women talk about how they feel. Men talk about what they can do in the future to feel good. Women cry immediately. Men put off crying until it's the only available alternative.
Women talk about their day. Men talk about their future. Women ask their men to tell them what already happened at the office. Men ask their women to tell them what's coming up for dinner.
In other words: Women are Now. Men are Later.
Thanks for letting me explain this.
Speaking of things men will never understand about women, Private Lessons: Another Story is this week's flick, thanks to producer Ben Efraim, who decided to make a sequel--14 years later. This is happening all the time now. How long did they wait on The Beastmaster? Ten years? It took 20 years to bring out the sequel to Caged Heat.
I think the reason is that all these movies that were trashed by the indoor bullstuff critics back when they first came out end up playing 17,000 times a day on cable, and people go, "Hey, that's a dang good movie," and then the ratings are so high somebody decides to make a sequel.
Anyhow, Ben has followed in the great tradition of exploitation producers everywhere, and made a sequel that has absolutely nothing to do with the other movie.
Which is good for us, because the first movie was Sylvia Kristel teaching a teenage boy how to make the sign of the Twin-Flanked Tilting Hematoma, and Sylvia was no spring chicken in that movie.
If they brought her back today, they'd have to find a 40-year-old virgin to co-star with her.
So Ben went with an unknown--a frizzy blonde named Mariana Morgan--and the idea here is that she's a professional photographer who flies down to Miami to do a bikini photo shoot and escape her weaselly husband, who's been slipping around with the old Extracurriculus Aardvarkus, if you know what I mean and I think you do.
When she gets there she gets the hots for her macho Cuban limo driver, but then her husband comes to visit, but then she finds out that the husband has also been visiting the pretty brunette ad agency big shot Mariana works for.
Meanwhile she's searching for the sexiest woman in Miami, and she finds her at one of those ultra-trendy South Beach discos with the video walls--this hot little number named Theresa Morris who just keeps dancing out onto the roof of the building and then strips and does the Horizontal Hustle in front of a neon sign while Mariana is snappin' pitchers.
It all sounds like pretty standard stuff, but this is actually one of the best-written, best-photographed, best-directed sexploitationers I've seen in years. The acting ain't shabby neither. And I'm a hard man to impress, 'cause the most boring type of flick in the world is the soft-core sex flick.
I'm impressed, Ben. I didn't expect much, but you gave it to me anyway.
Twenty-one breasts. Beard-licking. Multiple bikini-dancing. Rooftop topless dancing. Shirt-ripping. Gratuitous shower. Lingerie modeling. Aardvarking on the beach.
Drive-In Academy Award nominations for...
Mariana Morgan, as the hot-to-trot photographer, for saying, "I want something real, provocative--not glossy, but raw," and "You taught me how to just let myself be."
Ray Garaza, as the studly limo driver who tells the sensitive story of the Silverfish Lovers statue, and, in his big emotional moment, screams, "You had an itch, you scratched it, and now it's over!"
Joe Bob says check it out.
"I'm looking for the title of a Japanese science fiction film which I know aired on a local station back in the early '80s. The details are a little vague, and probably 25 percent in error, but hey, at least it's dubbed.
"It starts out when this scientist and his wife are kidnapped by aliens. Now normally that wouldn't be a problem, except that the computer is locked down and they need a code card, otherwise the nuclear reactor is gonna blow. So our team blasts to another planet, where they get promptly captured.
"They can't exactly run away because their hands are on this ring which is probably using Super Glue. So they get brought to the queen who is, surprise, surprise, the scientist's wife. Alas, one of the team members does manage to escape, says that his weapons have many uses, and manages to free up the team.
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