Recall, if you will, how difficult it was to sit through a Police Academy movie in theaters.

Now imagine sitting through all seven of them in a row at home.

Yet this test of he-man resilience is exactly what Louis Fowler and I subjected ourselves to on a sunny Saturday in spring. The idea was simple: Would we be able to watch all 612 minutes — that’s 10.2 hours — of painfully simple slapstick and belabored set pieces? And could we do it without cracking? And just how much Steve Guttenberg can one man take?

The rules were simpler: Absolutely no fast-forwarding, and pausing was for pussies.

And with that, while the rest of the state enjoyed an unseasonable 71˚ day, we were in my living room, undergoing a brave but pointless experiment with no scientific value whatsoever. No lessons would be learned. Society would not benefit from our experience. In fact, we might emerge dumber.

Police Academy
At 11:35 a.m., we began with the original Police Academy, the 1984 box-office hit that started it all. (Damn you, original Police Academy!) Directed with half the flair and complexity Hugh Wilson brought to that one episode of WKRP in Cincinnati (it doesn’t matter which), the film starts the way they all will start: with a night shot of the city, its horny theme song blaring.

“The French horn really adds regality to that theme,” Louis said.

The opening moments quickly introduce all the characters we would come to know and love:
• Mahoney (Steve Guttenberg), the affable screw-up;
• Hightower (Bubba Smith), the tall black guy;
• Tackleberry (David Graf), the gun-happy solider;
• Jones (Michael Winslow), the guy who makes all the “funny” noises;
• Hooks (Marion Ramsey), the soft-spoken black woman;
• Fackler (Bruce Mahler), the accident-prone nerd;
• Callahan (Leslie Easterbrook), the she-hulk sergeant with large breasts;
• Col. Lassard (George Gaynes), their confused boss; and
• Lt. Harris (G.W. Bailey), the pudgy enemy.

Others include Kim Cattrall as Thompson, the requisite love interest for Mahoney, and Donovan Scott as Barbara, the fat guy.

And that’s all the character development the series dares attempt.

Within its first 10 minutes, we already had been treated to a dog-humping joke and heard Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s “Relax” twice. Yes, twice. (Curiously, however, it was not heard in the later gay bar scene.)

Louis noted that Tackleberry “looks like Sloth from Goonies with hair.” Meanwhile, I’m dumbstruck by the realization that Kim Cattrall has had a career for 35 years. Thirty-five years! And hardly a truly good movie to be found!

Mid-film, Mahoney hires a hooker (played by The Devil in Miss Jones star Georgina Spelvin) to blow Col. Lassard from underneath a podium as he gives a slide presentation.

“You never saw that on Punky Brewster,” I said.

This oral sex gag, however, was quickly outclassed by Harris flying off a motorcycle and getting his head stuck in a horse’s ass.

Mahoney casually notes, “Sleep is for fags,” prompting Louis to recall with nostalgia the days that comedies could make crude gay jokes with reckless, unapologetic abandon. And this film made tons of them.

The sax music on the soundtrack signifies rollicking, madcap hijinks. Louis made the observation that so many men in the mid-‘80s looked like Bruce Jenner. The movie’s not a total loss, however, as Callahan rips off her shirt with wild abandon.

And before too terribly long, Police Academy ended. I can’t help but think it’s the kind of dumb movie for which the term “laff riot” was invented — not because its humor is anything special, but because its target audience can only spell phonetically.

Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment
At 1:10 p.m., we started Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment, 1985’s immediate sequel. Most of the cast re-turned, with the notable exception of Cattrall and Bailey, who soon would be spinning comic gold together again with Mannequin.

To make up for this gaping void, a few new characters were introduced:
• Sweetchuck (Tim Kazurinsky), the small nerdy guy;
• Zed (Bobcat Goldthwait), an incoherent screaming guy;
• Kirkland (Colleen Camp), Tackleberry’s equally weapon-happy girlfriend; and
• Mauser (Art Metrano), their pudgy enemy.

Suggesting that Hugh Wilson had some incriminating photos of him with Gordon Jump, WKRP’s Howard Hesseman essays the role of Lassard’s brother.

As we were speedily reintroduced to all those crazy characters — oh, but how could we forget! — we got a glimpse of naked female boobies, though they barely qualify as boobies. This prompted Louis to recall with nostalgia the days that PG-13 movies showed lots of nudity.

Whereas the first film was about a bunch of screw-ups who become police officers and somehow overcome their deficiencies to bring down a violent street gang, the filmmakers were determined to do something different with the sequel. Thus, Police Academy 2 is about a bunch of screw-ups who are already police officers and somehow overcome their deficiencies to bring down a violent street gang.

Going into this one, I thought Police Academy 2 might hold a soft spot in my heart, as it was the first of the series I ever saw. Mainly I remembered it fondly because you get to see the busty Colleen Camp in a bra, albeit briefly. And back in 1985, at the ripe young age of 14 in a cable-free household, this was manna.

But I was quickly proven foolhardy. This one sucks just as all the others suck.

“Do you what this movie lacks?” I asked rhetorically. “Bob Uecker.”

“I was gonna say laughs,” said Louis. That got a laugh.

What didn’t get a laugh was another new character named Vinny, a slob that allowed the filmmakers to get a fat guy and an Italian stereotype in one. In fact, none of the movie gets a laugh, although I was somewhat elated to spot the late, great Pac-Man breakfast cereal in a cameo during the grocery store scene.

The big gag came when Mauser gets his hands glued to his head while he showers and walks naked through the police station. Hey, I didn’t say it was good — just big.

“You know what’s always bothered me about the Police Academy soundtrack?” Louis asked.

“All of it?” I said.

“How this theme threatens to turn into ‘Baker Street’ at any second.”

But the most excruciating aspect of Police Academy 2 is, unsurprisingly, Guttenberg. He has to go undercover as a gang member, which is so far beyond his limited skills as an actor. Goot plays him like a Catskills comedian.

Police Academy 3: Back in Training
At 2:39 p.m., 1986’s Police Academy 3: Back in Training filled my living room with spite. It has the distinction of having the worst Psycho parody in any movie ever. And for being downright terrible for the entirety of its running time.

In this installment, the mayor announces that one of two competing police academies will be closed. To prevent theirs from getting the ax, Mahoney and the gang must train a whole new team of recruits. (Unfortunately for the moviegoing public, they succeed.) Said team includes Fackler’s wife (Debralee Scott) and Nogata (Revenge of the Nerds’ Brian Tochi), an overdue Asian stereotype. Being forced into the role of Mahoney’s love interest is former Miss USA and OceanQuest star Shawn Weatherly.

“Do you realize 30 percent of this movie so far is motivational speeches?” asked Louis, who was not far off. He was also not far off when he said, “You know, Callahan is starting to seem really attractive to me.” Hey, when life gives you lemons or Police Academy movies, you make lemonade or crushes on the curvy, Ilsa-esque chick.

I know I didn’t fall asleep during Police Academy 3, but what I can’t figure out is how this movie ended up with a big chase on Kawasaki Jet Skis, complete with fake Miami Vice music, and lots of slow-motion footage of boats jumping.

I shouldn’t even try to think about it. Must. Preserve. Brain. Cells.

Police Academy 4: Citizens on Patrol
At 4:01 p.m., we began that blight of 1987 otherwise known as Police Academy 4: Citizens on Patrol. It’s the perfect example of how movies can fool you right from the start, because it starts off with a joyous, spirited score that makes you think, “Oh, I’m in for a treat,” and then it turns on you in an instant, with the credit the reads “starring Steve Guttenberg.”

This one was directed by Jim Drake, who did Speed Zone with John Candy and Brooke Shields, but we continued on anyway.

It’s the first of the series with its own official theme song with lyrics, performed by that human sound machine Michael Winslow. Despite what the credits say, Louis swears up and down the tune is performed by The Fat Boys, because he has the soundtrack. I don’t think it is smart for Louis to admit such things, even in the privacy of my home.

The Citizens on Patrol subtitle refers to a program of Lassard’s that Harris wants stopped. Some of the citizens who volunteer for patrol include:
• a trigger-happy senior citizen, played by that pinch o’ Insta-Comedy Billie Bird;
• a grotesquely obese black guy named House (whose real name is unimportant because he’s probably not even still alive, and if he is, I’m sure all his friends just call him House); and
• two mall-dude skateboarders, played by Fast Times at Ridgemont High’s Brian Backer and, perhaps most embarrassingly — to him and us — David Spade.

In a sad attempt by the movie to appear “hip” and “edgy,” Backer and Spade get an extended skateboarding stunt sequence (doubled by Tony Hawk) backed by a horrific song with the skater-friendly lyrics “Shoot for the top / Reach for the dream!” — in other words, music no skater would ever listen to.

The guest-star factor of Police Academy 4 is off the charts, what with the ruffian Randall “Tex” Cobb and the ruffled Sharon Stone, apparently filling in for Shawn Weatherly, because with her feathered hair, she’s made to look exactly like Shawn Weatherly. Which was more humiliating for Sharon: showing her coozie in 1.85:1 widescreen a few years later or playing the object for affection for Guttenberg?

Yep, I’ll go with the Goot, too.

Citizens on Patrol may be the most practical joke-heavy of the series, with Right Guard being replaced with Mace, a megaphone Super Glued to a mouth, and a Porta-Potty lifted by a crane onto a football field. “Just think how much of the taxpayers’ money goes to fund these pranks!” Louis exclaimed of the latter one. But I was most impressed when Callahan jumped in the pool and got her shirt wet.

One hour into it, I had a full-blown bangeroo headache.

In a parody of a love scene, Bobcat twirled around and around and said, “I think I’m gonna puke.”

“My sentiments exactly,” I seconded.

Subbing for Jet Skis in the whiz-bang finale were hot air balloons and biplanes.

“When I think of high-speed excitement,” said Louis, “I don’t think of hot air balloons.”

“I don’t think of Police Academy,” I said.

At 5:20 p.m., Louis admitted he felt like he was drunk, yet he had nothing to drink but Diet Pepsi. Perhaps it could’ve been the Chico DeBarge song “I Like My Body”?

We broke for a speedy Taco Bueno dinner at 5:23. I took the opportunity to down a couple of aspirin.

Police Academy 5: Assignment Miami Beach
At 6:07 p.m., we promptly began the roughly second half of our formidable task with Police Academy 5: Assignment Miami Beach, from 1988. Four movies were evidently too much for Guttenberg, as he chose to leave the series behind for films of intelligence and substance: Zeus and Roxanne, High Spirits and Don’t Tell Her It’s Me. (Four movies had been enough for me, too, as I heretofore had neglected exposing myself to these final three sequels. But unlike the Goot, I don’t quit.)

Thus, the generic, genial, semi-goofy white-guy shoes are filled by the formidable feet of Matt McCoy, who honed his fine comic chops on TV’s We Got It Made and Married … with Children. He plays the nephew of Lassard, who’s simultaneously being honored as Police Officer of the Decade at a big Miami Beach to-do and being forced to retire.

Running counter to the reality of police department budgets, all our characters get to accompany Lassard to Florida. There’s a subplot (or should I say there would be a subplot, if a main plot existed) involving jewel thieves, headed up by Rene Auberjonois.

“If there’s a yeoman on a boat or a criminal mastermind, it’s a role meant to be played by Rene Auberjonois or Brent Spiner,” said Louis.

Rene and Lassard accidentally switch bags in the airport, so Lassard unknowingly lugs around millions of dollars of jewels, which Rene has 24 hours to find. Meanwhile, Bubba Smith looks incredibly greasy and Tackleberry fights a shark in a stupid Jaws parody. The steel drum soundtrack sounds suspiciously like the music from Nintendo’s Super Mario Bros. game, and Callahan limbos. Pranks abound, with the word “DORK” being written on Bailey’s chest in suntan lotion as he sleeps and an ol’ reliable cactus-in-the-crotch gag. Callahan limbos — did you catch that?

At 7:04 p.m., we had to break our “no pausing” rule, but for valid reason: It was to accurately count the 18 people who fell in the pool at once. We’re certain film history was made and must be documented, should Criterion ever scratch the bottom of the barrel and need these kind of facts for a super-deluxe, bells-and-whistles DVD. (A simple thanks will suffice, Criterion. Do not — I repeat, do not — send me a complimentary copy.)

There was a scene with a bunch of people in an elevator and I said after some time, “Someone should fart in that.” For the first and only time, the series did not let me down.

The now-requisite action-filled third act found Lassard taken hostage, allowing for gratuitous swamp-boat chases. And Bubba got to wrestle an alligator.

You can watch this entire movie and almost miss Janet Jones — Mrs. Wayne Gretsky herself — as McCoy’s suntanned love interest. Building upon the promise of American Anthem — the promise that she would be a dreadful actress, of course — Jones gets the eye-candy role here, but looks like a combination of a man, a bird and Janet Jones. I just don’t see the attraction.

Police Academy 6: City Under Siege
At 7:37 p.m., 1989’s Police Academy 6: City Under Siege laid siege to my home. “CRIME WAVE GRIPS CITY,” as a newspaper headline reads, giving you all the setup necessary for the 80-some-odd minutes that will follow and slowly eat away at your soul.

This entry was directed by Peter Bonerz. It’s the only Bonerz in the film, as Callahan is unceremoniously absent. National Lampoon’s Class Reunion refugee Gerritt Graham guest-stars as a diamond thief in a butterfly bolo tie who answers to a criminal mastermind seen in silhouette, and Billie Bird is back, but as another character — a true sacrilege to the Police Academy mythos.

Harris continues his meddling, trying to get the other cops into trouble. “You’d think by now, internal affairs would’ve cracked down on all of Harris’ schemes,” Louis said. Ah, but Harris continues, and is rewarded by getting his ass glued to a chair.

By the time we were halfway through it, Louis noted the movie had logged a “pretty pathetic” 10 falls — a marked decline from its immediate predecessor’s record-breaking 80.

“That’s when you know they just stopped caring,” I said.

“I never thought I’d say this about a Police Academy movie,” Louis said, “but this one’s too talky!”

He was right, and my headache had transformed itself into intestinal distress. Another sign the filmmakers just stopped caring: You can see the strings on the fireflies.

At one point, Bubba Smith told a bad guy, “Fighting is one thing, but bad jokes is where I draw the line.” Then why did you agree to star in Police Academy 1 through 6, sir?

The rest of the movie was a blur, as I was starting to crack. Monster truck. It’s the mayor. Come back, Steve.

Police Academy: Mission to Moscow
We started the final film, Police Academy: Mission to Moscow, at 9 p.m. sharp. But first, some background must be discussed: Up until this entry, Warner Bros. had released a Police Academy at the rate of one a year, for six years straight. Yet a five-year gap exists between Police Academy 6 and this, which was released in 1994.

By then, we should have been on Police Academy 11: Fatty Falls Down, but for whatever reason, they took a half-decade break. Given the outcome, it certainly wasn’t to work on the script. Perhaps it was intense salary negotiations on Bubba Smith’s behalf?

Those talks must have failed, because Smith did not return. Hell, Matt McCoy didn’t return, which should have been a red flag for all involved. As a result, George Gaynes gets top billing. I’m sure this was quite a coup for him, to go from last billing in the original to being the first name onscreen. But it’s like that one guy in accounting whom no one likes and doesn’t retire until several years after he should have, so the office throws him a party and buys him a big cake just so they won’t feel bad when he dies.

There are other red flags that should deter you from watching Mission to Moscow. One is director Alan Metter, whose Richard Pryor movie Moving is actually less funny than Pryor being stricken with multiple sclerosis, which is not funny at all. Another is the blurb on the back of the video box that reads, “Kicking buttski. Making you laughski.” One could argue another is the simple fact that it has the word “Police” directly followed by the word “Academy” in the title. But the biggest red flag of all is one Mr. Charlie Schlatter.

Schlatter burst into moviegoers’ hearts, lungs and kidneys alongside George Burns in 18 Again!, one of but 17 body-switching movies in 1988. He likely was cast in that because he acts very much like George Burns, but without the charm or likability. In other words, he’s just someone who squints a lot and is begging for you to kick him. 18 Again! was not a hit, which is why he ended up in movies like this. At no point would he ever star in a film that had the balls to include an exclamation mark in its title.

Though Schlatter is a bane to all humanity, the official role of villain in Mission in Moscow is taken by Hellboy himself, Ron Perlman — “he looks like Harry from Harry and the Hendersons, only shaved,” said Louis — as a Russian video-game creator and mafia head. Christopher Lee, Claire Forlani and a pet snake named Skippy are also in it. Somewhere, parents are ashamed.

“You know,” admitted Louis at 9:09 p.m., “I don’t remember a thing about Police Academy 6. Not a thing.”

But how he wished he had — anything to distract from the horror of Mission to Moscow and all its fake Russian accents, fake sets and fake comedy. It looks so cheap and plays so stilted, it’s like a Police Academy fan film rather than an official sequel. It’s like it was made by foreigners who bought the rights to the characters. Worse, it’s like it was made by foreigners who couldn’t get the rights to the characters, but hired the same actors anyway, copyright be damned. With its disturbing displays of juggling construction workers, trampolining painters and mouth-to-mouth egg spitting, it’s like this movie was made simply to make things good with France. Imagine if they made Dorf on Police Academy — that’s as best a comparison I can make.

For a flick that’s PG-rated for “comic sensuality,” there sure are a lot of floating Russkie boobies in it, not to mention an unsettling glimpse of man-ass and an extreme close-up of dog testicles. The whole time, Lassard hangs out with a grieving funeral family while the gang runs around doing something, but what exactly, I don’t know. I couldn’t even remember why they went to Russia. I do know there was no true script, but if there were, it had to be polished by Roberto Benigni. Really, how else to explain “jokes” like a check made out for “Lotsa Rubles”?

There’s a scene — I guess you could call these things scenes — where Callahan is singing a torch song in a nightclub and the camera goes straight down the front of her dress. I love you, Alan Metter. But only for a few seconds.

I decided that if I had seen this in theaters, not only would I have walked out, I would have burned the ticket stub to erase the proof of having been there. I also wondered why there is no “7” in the title? After all, most of the Police Academy fan base can count that high.

At 10:01 p.m., it appeared God was with us. The audio on the tape started dropping out and I thought the VCR might start eating the tape. Did I say “thought”? I meant “prayed” and “rooted for.” But it was not to be.

Instead, we had to suffer through the entirely too-long car chase (“The world just wasn’t ready for Charlie Schlatter, action hero,” said Louis) and the agonizing disguised-as-shrubbery scene, which is so stale, I’m surprised the series hadn’t employed it before.

Just when the film had ended and we didn’t think Mission to Moscow could get any worse or stranger or more troubling, the cast was reintroduced individually as they ride and stand atop horses. Wait a second — I have to repeat that just to convince myself that’s what I actually saw: The cast was reintroduced individually as they ride and stand atop horses.

So you get, say, Lassard riding his thoroughbred like a surfboard and laughing his ass off and it reads “GEORGE GAYNES” at the bottom of the screen. It’s almost like a reel of who never to hire in Hollywood again.

With the clock at 10:20 p.m., Mission to Moscow was officially at its end. In a rage, I leapt from the couch and shook my finger angrily at the TV.

“Fuck you, Mission to Moscow! Fuck! You!” I screamed, and by God, I meant it. —Rod Lott

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