Comedy

My Chauffeur (1986)

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Dear Hollywood,

I miss Deborah Foreman. Why did you stop making movies with her in them? Did she do something to piss you off? I’ve checked online, and the most recent photographs I’ve seen prove she’s still as hot as ever. Have you seen Valley Girl or April Fool’s Day or Waxwork or Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat? If you had, you’d know she was that rare actress who effortlessly mixed genuine sex appeal with likable adorability.

No greater proof of that exists than My Chauffeur, where she played an adorably sexy space cadet mysteriously hired by a secret benefactor to be the first female driver at a stuffy limousine company. Sure, it’s a haphazard, uneven production made by the schlockmeisters at the now-defunct Crown International Pictures, but she’s hilarious in it. And sexy. And adorable.

Just watch her wonderful under-reaction to the news that her and Sam Jones’ blossoming intimate relationship might be an incestuous one and tell me why she didn’t at least get her own badly written, cheesy ’80s sitcom! Truthfully, I can take or leave the rest of the picture — including the bizarre appearance by a fetal Penn & Teller — but that hasn’t stopped me from watching it a dozen times since it first came out.

Okay, maybe you’ve tried to get her back and she refuses to return your phone calls. Try harder. With Amanda Bynes teetering on and off the edge of retirement, we need all of the sexy-adorable we can get.

Yours Expectantly, —Allan Mott

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Action

PTU (2003)

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PTU stands for “Police Tactical Unit,” and I’m booking this Hong Kong copper crime drama in the C+ column. It exudes potential from the outset, but tosses much of it out for a clichéd, slo-mo final shootout.

Chronicling one crazy night for the PTU, Election director Johnnie To’s film starts off just fine — even a little funny — as the rotund, chain-smoking Sgt. Lo (Suet Lam) crosses paths at a late-night diner with the wrong guys: neighborhood thugs who think they’re hot shit and all that and a bag of shrimp crisps.

Soon, the gang’s leader, the aptly named Ponytail (Chi-Shing Chiu) is dead from a knife through the back, but not before he runs down the street and tries to drive himself to the hospital, while Lo slips into unconsciousness after an alleyway fall in pursuit, and the other gang guys steal his gun.

From there, Lo’s colleagues — headed by the stoic Sgt. Ho (Simon Yam) — try to retrieve his weapon, which leads into an ever-the-more-muddled, loosey-goosey narrative that grows too messy in its second half. At least To makes the proceedings look slick. I liked the slight seriocomic, near-episodic approach, and the decision to make the cops corrupt assholes; its score, however, is atrocious. —Rod Lott

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Horror

[Rec] (2007)

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So maybe you saw the 2008 American horror movie Quarantine and thought it was pretty good. Even then, I knew it was a remake of a Spanish film called [Rec]. Now I’ve seen the original and while I still think Quarantine is okay, I’m here to tell you that [Rec] is a 24-carat-solid-gold, plow-pulling, lottery-winning, mind-melting pants-pisser. I jumped out of my skin so often, I’m not sure I can get it back on again.

Manuela Velasco stars as Angela Vidal, one of those cute and perky TV reporterettes who get all the cat-stuck-in-tree human interest stories. She and her cameraman, Pablo (heard, but unseen real cinematographer Pablo Rosso), are doing a piece on what firefighters do when they’re not fighting fires, and this night, they’re called to an aging apartment building because some old woman is frighteningly sick. Like, she wants to bite people and rip large chunks of flesh off and devour them.

And then the corpses she leaves behind become reanimated and pick up her bad habits. And the cops show up, bringing the Army with them, and they seal off the building and won’t let anyone out.

As with the remake, [Rec] is shown to us through Pablo’s camera, so there’re a lot of jittery images, but it works better because co-directors Jaume Balaquero and Paco Plaza make the camera a character and not just a cinematic gimmick. The explanation of the insta-plague is also different in Spanish, and much spookier. Even the language works for non-Spanish speakers because it adds to the confusion.

I’ve never been to Spain, but I kinda like the horror. So will you. —Doug Bentin

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Comedy

The Amazing Dobermans (1976)

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Until recently, the Doberman movies of the 1970s represented that rarest of film franchises: a series I didn’t even know existed. Indies all directed by one Byron Chudnow, they walk a weird line between comedies and crime films, all featuring Doberman Pinschers trained to commit and/or thwart felonies. Ostensibly family pictures, they’re kind of weird; therefore, I love them.

Following The Doberman Gang and The Daring Dobermans — in which the dogs robbed a bank and pulled off a high-rise heist, respectively — the five canines return in The Amazing Dobermans as guard dogs to freelancing security expert Daniel (Fred Astaire), an ex-con turned Jesus freak who lives in an RV. Daniel does no dancing, but plenty of Scripture-quoting and, via a chunky remote control with buttons marked “jump” and “go,” dog manipulation.

Crossing their paths is Lucky (James Franciscus), who owes $13,000 in gambling debts to a mob boss, but is really a Justice Department agent undercover. To that end, Lucky befriends a circus midget named Samson (Billy Barty), gets a job shoveling elephant poo, and falls for Justice (Barbara Eden), who rides Wonder Horse under the big top in a bejeweled bikini that highlights her great ass.

From there, a third-act caper takes place that involves the Dobermans, dynamite, an armored car and a goon who looks Gene Shalit. Like the two films preceding it, Amazing is harmless fun. What else would you expect from a movie where one of the bad guys is played by somebody named Roger Pancake? —Rod Lott

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