Judging from the boxcover and title, you might suspect that Wet and Wild Summer is another one of your brainless California beach and bimbo epics. Not so. It's a seriously-wrought Australian film that actually takes place in winter (our winter—their summer). It also happens to have an I.Q., a fair degree of integrity, and a goodly display of topless and full nudity for a picture that's trying to be thought-provoking, politically aware and socially relevant. To that end, Wet and Wild Summer is reminiscent of elements found in The Lifeguard and uses a similar plot hook—an only-the-strong-survive lifeguard competition—to hang some of the threads of this culture-clash story on.

Christopher Atkins is Bobby McCain, the son of an eco-visionary, Los Angeles land developer (Elliot Gould). Now, lest you think Gould's in the picture for a sham 30-second cameo to trade off his name value, you're wrong there, too. Gould gets to make important issue-oriented speeches and act profound, not unlike when his career was in full throttle in the 70's, and Atkins is typical of what he's been playing lately, a pretty boy that you'd like to smack in the face for particularly no good reason.

Posing as an "exchange lifeguard" (there's something new for you), Atkins is as a kind of Australian advance man for his father's company which is trying to buy up some prime area of fictional "Mullet Beach" (a tweedy play on words) for a resort development. The fact that some areas of the beach are designated no-clothes zones with an accompanying $500 fine lends itself to some zesty, but gratuitous, visual morsels when the camera plays peek-a-boo over the terrain.

That said McCain resort project meets with local resistance due to a misperception of Gould's good intentions belabors the obvious cliché. At play, also, is the internal conflict taking place in Gould's company in which a slimy vice president, in an attempt at a takeover, tries, along with Gould's bimboesque second wife, to make Elliot look like some kind of nutcase by feeding him goofy pills. It really doesn't take too much acting on Gould's part to render himself effective in this context.

Also compounding the felony is the fact that Atkins falls in love with a pretty but rebellious local rock club owner, Rebecca Cross, whose business happens to stand in the way of progress. As their once-acerbic relationship progresses, Atkins reexamines his values in the face of local culture, not to mention getting to slip the panties off Cross' ass in a couple of conveniently-wedged-in love duets. Atkins, as you might imagine, redefines his spoiled scion act along the way and it's all hugs and feel-good time by picture's end, making this a kind of Free Willy for condos.

Some of the plot elements of Wet and Wild Summer are a mite overboard, but the picture on the whole plays a couple of fresh notes, has a firm stance and a distinct whimsy that will win you, ingratiatingly, over to its side.