|Released||Mar 01st, 2001|
|Cast||Salena Del Ray, Scott Styles, Evan Stone, Wendi Knight, Shawna Edwards, Joel Lawrence, Kim Chambers, Mark Wood, Brian Surewood, Tina Cheri, Jessica Jewel, Charlie Angel, Olivia (I), Tasha Hunter|
|Critical Rating||Not Yet Rated|
Every so often, something comes along that is just dumb enough, just silly enough, and just fun enough to merit a Spot Pick designation even though nothing specific stands out. House of Hooters, for example.
Evan Stone is a diaper-wearing manchild, hanging his legs out of a cradle and pointing and giggling at his nurse's exposed whatchacallems. She tells him that until he knows what those things are, and what they're for, he'll never be a man, just a no-name boy. He needs to go to (CUE MUSIC) Mondo Tundra's House of Hooters.
Fade up a picture of the San Onofre Nuclear Plant.
Get the idea?
Six clever sex scenes, one of them g/g/g, follow, with dopey set-ups, silly '60s sounding music, and big boobies galore. The climax comes when Stone breaks character and confronts the camera, ripping off his shades and saying to the director it was fun, but this is really stupid and I've had enough, I'm leaving now. Enter a woman in a white dress, boobs hanging out, who says to him, look, I just want to do my scene and get out of here. He looks at the camera and asks, "I get to fuck her?"
An affirmative sound.
"Really? I thought I wasn't fucking anybody in this one."
Another affirmative sound.
Stone puts on the shades and gets back in character. And fucks her.
This is the kind of silly concept that made the '70s Golden Age. Take a trip down memory - okay, mammary - lane.