With sales of Beaver Bras sagging, ad man Albert Zack (Chris Lemmon, Wishmaster) is tasked with front-loading the next campaign with five famous curvaceous ladies to model the goods: a chart-topping singer, a Swiss countess, an Olympic wrestler, a sex-kitten actress and the daughter of the President of the United States. With that mission set, the meat of C.O.D. is watching Zack humiliate himself to make contact for contracts by donning a variety of disguises, because what else screams “zany”?

For example, the actress (Corinne Alphen, Amazon Women on the Moon) is shooting a Doctor Butcher M.D.-style horror film, so Zack dresses as a zombie to crash the set. For the singer (Marilyn Joi, Black Samurai), he dons his discotheque best. For the POTUS offspring, it’s cringingly offensive Fu Manchu garb. Hey, it was the ’80s.

One of pornographer Chuck Vincent’s earliest efforts to go legit, the PG-rated C.O.D. plays remarkably tame, even with its big-busted premise. Nudity is light enough to be near-nonexistent, and the most risqué gag requires literacy; as Zack — in a Santa Claus outfit — realizes he’s followed the countess (Carole Davis, Piranha II: The Spawning) to a Madison Cawthorn-style orgy, she chases him around a room lit with Christmas lights and a neon sign reading “THE FUCK IS ON.”

If you didn’t already know C.O.D.’s leading man fell from the same Lemmon tree as his legendary father, nothing here would shed that light. But let’s give the lesser Lemmon this: As the straight man opposite five shapely women, he’s easily likable, whereas had he played it any differently, he’d be alienating. Almost all the laughs come from first-timer Teresa Ganzel (The Toy), genuinely funny as the prez’s daughter. If she didn’t improvise much of her scene after ditching Secret Service, color me amazed. Either way, one wishes her co-stars — not to mention her writer/director — worked as hard. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

Except for one performer, National Lampoon’s Another Dirty Movie represents a career low for all involved. Considering top-billed Jonathan Silverman starred in Caddyshack II, that’s really saying something, but here he inflates a used condom with his mouth and even pulls back the sides of his eyes to mimic an Asian. For veteran comedian Robert Klein, it’s the shame of having to say lines like, “Corn?!? In my poop?!? What are these nibblets?!?”

The exception is soap-opera actress Maeve Quinlan, but only because she received unsimulated oral sex for Larry Clark’s probing camera in Ken Park. So this might be one stool step up from that.

Like 2011’s first Dirty Movie (which I actually find amusing), this semi-sequel shoots filmed skits ‘n’ bits of R- and X-rated jokes as rapidly as Will Smith’s ball machine in King Richard. Only the in-between window dressing has changed, now concerning horny students Mason (Nolan Gerard Funk, The Long Night) and Patrick (Jon Klaft, co-writer with Alan Donnes), who need to make a movie — any movie — lickety-split so they can get crazy-laid. Turning to Patrick’s porno-producing uncle (Silverman), they write, cast and shoot their epic dirty-joke picture in what appears to be the same day.

From twin belly dancers to topless blondes, the onscreen gag tellers deliver such old chestnuts as “What kind of bees produce milk? Boo-bees.” Waka-waka-hey! I’d say Klaft and Donnes stole their script from a 12-year-old boy, but that would be unfair. (He couldn’t have been more than 8, maybe 9, tops.)

Other would-be comics slinging vile, tasteless (and worse, witless) wisecracks on Blacks, the Holocaust and such targets include hillbillies, Nazis, Klansmen, Middle Eastern terrorists, a sex-crazed doctor and a child actor whose parents should know better. Outside of these super-short segments, Silverman — who, mind you, also chose to direct this — cajoles celebrity pals Jason Alexander, David Schwimmer, Bob Saget and Jeff Ross into sad cameos.

So much of Another Dirty Movie reeks of desperation. The bar scenes look to be lensed in a storage unit. Only if Mel Brooks were a robot who got stuck in a loop would you hear the word “schtup” repeated more. Some actors literally turn to face the camera at punchline, because how else would the viewer know when to laugh? (You won’t.) The screenplay presumes to have its finger on the pulse of American culture by queuing up a bit about Rain Man — yes, Rain Man, as in from 1988! Prepare for a linguistic knee-slapper of the highest order as someone mishears “kitty porn” as “kiddie porn” — oh, the misunderstandings that follow!

The credits’ typeface may be appropriately bubbly to match the iconic National Lampoon logo, but Another Dirty Movie can’t approach even the least ticklish rib of Bluto or Cousin Eddie. —Rod Lott