Blondes Have More Guns Reviews

Troma Films strikes again with this low-budget spoof of cop thrillers, which parodies such big-budget hits as BASIC INSTINCT and INDECENT PROPOSAL. The story features a dim-witted cop on the trail of a deadly femme fatale. But the real star of this film is its scattershot barrage of sight gags and verbal puns, which aspire to a NAKED GUN-style wackiness. A mysterious blonde has been tying her lovers to the bed and killing them with a chainsaw. When the fourth body is discovered, police detective Harry Bates (Michael McGaharn) is put on the case. Finding a wedding invitation on the latest victim, Harry and his partner, Dick Smoker (Richard Neil), go to the ceremony and take in the lovely bride, Montana Beaver-Shotz (Elizabeth Key), for questioning. Montana's twin half-stepsister (once removed), Dakota (Gloria Lusiak), comes to town and unsuccessfully tries to seduce Harry, who instead falls for the promiscuous Montana, even though her husband's fresh corpse is further proof of her guilt. Afraid that Montana is the killer, the lovesick Harry transfers his affections to Dakota. But when a fresh body turns up at Dakota's home, she's taken in for questioning. She persuades her questioners of her innocence by uncrossing her legs and revealing that she is really a man--Montana's brother. Harry and Montana have sex, after which both Montana and Dakota are shot by Harry's ex-partner (who thinks he's a dog). Montana and Dakota both survive, while Harry discovers that the crazed, love-obsessed transvestite murderess is really his superior, Captain Hook. Appearing in drag, Hook ties Harry to the bed and pulls out his chainsaw, only to be shot by Smoker, who walks in on the bizarre scene. If the preceding synopsis doesn't make much sense, there's a good reason. The filmmakers were more concerned with ladling on jokes than writing a coherent script. Even worse, most of the humor lays there like roadkill, and despite the movie's R-rated story line, its sense of humor is firmly entrenched in the fourth grade. The wafer-thin narrative is padded with a few spicy sex scenes, but mostly, it's a rapid-fire array of laughless gags that range from the crude to the offensive to the merely asinine. There are gay jokes, infomercial take-offs, tired drug schtick, self-reflexive comments, and even if a joke falls flat the first time around, it's repeatedly beaten into the ground. This is an amateurish comedy that dredges the bottom of the barrel, even by Troma's standards. (Violence, nudity, sexual situations, substance abuse, profanity.)