Al Adamson only made movies like Al Adamson, so why shouldn’t his approach to the almighty sequel be like everyone else’s? Whereas 1974’s The Naughty Stewardesses was a softcore sexcapade, the Blazing Stewardesses follow-up has next to no nudity and, in a veritable 180˚, what little there is doesn’t come from the leading ladies.

In his final film, former B-Western idol Robert Livingston (The Riders of the Whistling Skull) reprises his Naughty part as Ben Brewster, who invites beautiful, blonde flight attendant Debbie (Connie Hoffman, 1977’s The Van) for a two-week vacation at his gambling-themed Lucky Dollar Guest Ranch. Happily accepting, Debbie brings Barbara (Marilyn Joi, Adamson’s Black Samurai) and new Stew Lori (Dracula vs. Frankenstein’s Regina Carrol, aka Mrs. Al Adamson), who appears to be barely functional as a human being. On the plane ride there, the pilot gets his head stuck in a toilet seat.

Story has so little to do with Blazing Stewardesses that its “details” — broad strokes they may be — slide right off the mind. That Brewster’s Lucky Dollar cash cow is targeted by masked bandits on horseback is not as important as Adamson getting to pay tribute to the cheap oaters of yesteryear, especially those Poverty Row efforts of his multihyphenate father, Victor. That the property also boasts The Beehive brothel is not as important as getting to cast an aging TV star (Munsters matriarch Yvonne De Carlo) as its madam.

Even Debbie and her girlfriends seem incidental compared to ranch hands Harry and Jimmy (respectively played by Jimmy and Harry Ritz, the then-surviving 66.6 percent of ye olde Ritz Brothers comedy trio (1939’s The Gorilla). Adamson gives the guys the leeway to trot out multiple slapstick routines that, while out of sync with the winking style of humor already established, nonetheless contribute perfectly to the “anything goes” feel of his movie mélange. Hence, a fried egg sandwich landing on the constantly mugging face of Harry. Or was it Jimmy? Doesn’t matter. —Rod Lott

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Eddie Munster is homesick for Transylvania. It seems Christmas just doesn’t feel very, well, Christmas-y when you’re a transplant to sunny Los Angeles. In fact, says the boy, “Christmas bites,” which is funny — well, in theory — because he can turn into a werewolf during full moons.

In order to make Eddie (Bug Hall, aka Alfalfa of 1994’s The Little Rascals) have a happy holiday, each of his four family members goes all-out. His father, Herman (Sam McMurray, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation), squeezes in side jobs to afford that Marquis de Sade dungeon action playset Eddie so badly wants, while his mom, Lily (Ann Magnuson, Making Mr. Right), helps him deck the exterior of their castle with such macabre decorations as a working snowman guillotine. His “ugly” cousin, Marilyn (Elaine Hendrix, Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion), plans one monster party, and ol’ Grandpa (Sandy Baron, Leprechaun 2) uses his devil magick to teleport Santa Claus into the home and accidentally turns him into a giant fruitcake, complete with hat, belt and beard!

That Santa (Mark Mitchell, Inspector Gadget 2) nearly is eaten by a nosy neighbor (Silent Night, Bloody Night’s Mary Woronov, reprising her role from the previous year’s Here Come the Munsters) and then almost drowned in eggnog best signifies this made-for-TV movie’s slight streak of anarchy.

The Munsters’ Scary Little Christmas could have been pedestrian claptrap that put forth no effort beyond riding on property recognition; instead, director Ian Emes, the man behind many a Pink Floyd music video, and his crew tried — really, really tried. Granted, while it runs a distant second to the brilliant subversion of Addams Family Values, viewers must admire that jokes about phone sex and a woman’s midget-bedding fantasy were able to survive through the final cut of a family-oriented movie — one celebrating the birth of the Christ child, no less!

Despite such early cringeworthy moments as Herman busting into James Brown dance moves for a group of carolers, performances are on-target — even the ones meant to be broad (barring Baron’s), perhaps to honor the sitcom spirit of TV’s original Munsters family. McMurray is the most vicarious, and he is funniest in a throwaway reaction as his Frankenstein’s-monster character passes a lit torch he doesn’t expect to see as he descends a basement stairwell. Hendrix is appropriately adorable as the oblivious Marilyn, per this bar exchange with Tom (Jeremy Callaghan, The Great Raid), part-time rocker and would-be suitor:

Tom: “What’s your poison?”
Marilyn: “Strychnine.”
Tom: “How about something nonlethal?”
Marilyn: “All right. A virgin Bloody Mary — light on the virgin’s blood, if you don’t mind.”

You really shouldn’t mind much, excepting a dated reference to SnackWell’s cookies and Emes denying us the pleasure of seeing Santa make good on his promise to deliver deer shit to Eddie’s bully. —Rod Lott

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So in You’re Invited to Mary-Kate & Ashley’s Hawaiian Beach Party, those little pug-nosed Olsen twins from TV’s Full House go to Hawaii and throw a beach party. Native island women dance the hula, so Mary-Kate and Ashley don grass skirts so they, too, can learn how to seductively sway their 8-year-old “hips.”

The girls are not fast learners, though! In fact, they accidentally rump-bump into the fire-eater, causing his hair to catch aflame. Panicky and disoriented, he runs toward the ocean to extinguish his burning mane, but due in part to his eyeballs already having melted, he instead slams into the wall of a boogie board rental shop and falls into the sand. Clutching their bellies and pineapple juice boxes, the twins just laugh and laugh at the human torch’s third-degree misfortune.

Things get more twisted as Mary-Kate and Ashley search for a pig to roast. This essentially being a short film, they quickly come across one, sleeping. “Is it alive?” asks Mary-Kate (or maybe it was Ashley). “I don’t know! Let’s see,” replies Ashley (or maybe Mary-Kate; it does not matter). A cartoon light bulb appears over her head and she spots — and then grabs — a nearby stick that conveniently ends in a pencil-sharp point, which she then jabs into the swine’s where-the-sun-don’t-shine hole. As the animal jolts awake and squeals in equal parts terror and pain, the girls again just laugh and laugh.

Then they bludgeon the poor thing to death with a comically large coconut, and the action cuts to the titular celebration, where the partygoers feast on handfuls of pork as Dishwalla and Gin Blossoms rock out live. Proving that birthday wishes do come true, the climax finds Mary-Kate and Ashley being lifted onstage to show off their newfound hula skills as Los del Río perform — what else? — “Macarena.” Okay, so not really, but, man, what if? —Rod Lott

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Easily one of the best flicks in the Troma Entertainment library, When Nature Calls looks like it was concepted, written and shot all within a day’s time. At any rate, it’s still fairly funny. Although it tries to be a scattershot spoof in the Airplane! vein, it works best when director and co-writer Charles Kaufman (1980’s Mother’s Day) doesn’t try to cram a jillion things into the frame.

No plot exists; the shell of the picture follows a suburban family as its members move from the big city to the great outdoors for no particular reason, other than to thumb its nose at many an outdoor family film, from Old Yeller to the Adventures of the Wilderness Family. For example, in one of its best sight gags, animals from the whole of both hemispheres reside together in the forest.

The daughter rapes a bear and becomes pregnant. Some four-legged friends are tortured. Stock footage of a vicious cougar threatens the family unit. C-level celebrities like Morey Amsterdam, Willie Mays, John Cameron Swayze and G. Gordon Liddy make pointless cameos. In an early-career role, future Oscar nominee and Bourne Identity franchise player David Strathairn plays Weejun, “the Kaopectate Indian,” who befriends the fam.

If you make it to the intermission sequence, you’ll be treated to a wickedly funny parody of that classic animated commercial that enticed drive-in patrons to hightail it to the lobby for sticky and/or sugary concessions. It begins with the usual dancing candy bars and soda cups, before a couple of frankfurters snort coke and commence bodily gratification. Although sloppier than a sloppy joe, When Nature Calls possesses enough good throwaway gags like that to merit a viewing. —Rod Lott

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As one of those Bush presidents famously said, we must stand up and demand that no Ghoulie is left behind. Ergo, Ghoulies Go to College. Sometimes this sequel is referred to as Ghoulies III, but to do so only minimizes the great strides they have made in higher education.

At Glazier College, school is in session … and everyone is majoring in wacky pratfalls! (Their minor? Three Stooges sound effects.) It’s Prank Week on campus, which means Beta Zeta Theta fraternity man Skip Carter (Evan MacKenzie, Scanner Cop II) has been busy setting the water fountains to spurt at crotch level and altering the benches to eject those who dare sit a spell! Don’t even get me started talking about the inflatable crocodile he’s hidden in the lectern of dean of students and humanities professor Ragnar (Kevin McCarthy, UHF), because I just might die of laughter!*

Not a prank, but certainly well-timed to the institution’s informal culture of zaniness, is the arrival of three Ghoulies — resembling a rat, cat and fish — through the pipes of the BZT toilet. Predictably, they like to party. They also exclaim, “Beer run!” and then burp and fart accordingly. One of them tricks another into chugging Drano: “Tastes great!” “Less filling.” Most uproarious.**

The creatures are denied further high jinks and sent back to the magic shitter from whence they came, once Skip and his girlfriend (Eva LaRue, Mirror Images II) utter the ancient spells found in an old comic book. Meanwhile, former Academy Award nominee McCarthy has to say, “Ghoulies have no dicks!” aloud and on camera, for all the world to (hypothetically) see, which may have been an ad lib requested by director John Carl Buechler (Cellar Dweller). Former Playboy centerfold/Andy Sidaris heroine Hope Marie Carlton (Hard Ticket to Hawaii) appears in a supporting role, but her ass might garner more screen time than her face, which — even with the franchise’s pivot from horror to comedy — definitely qualifies as Exploitation 101.*** —Rod Lott

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*Consider this a lesson in sarcasm.
**This, too.
***But this, students — this is true.