Joe Bob's Drive In Review
by Joe Bob Briggs
August 31, 1997
"Lethal Seduction"
OK, new end-of-summer rule. Ladies, look at your feet. You know that metallic silver toenail polish that seemed like such a good idea back in June, when you were buying that pair of slinky black sandals with the 19 straps encircling your feet like a pet squid? NOW look at 'em. You've got so many cracks, streaks and chips on
those babies that each foot looks like a piece of Roman statuary preserved in the British Museum after desecration by the Visigoths.
Have you ladies ever heard of the word "maintenance"? Maybe you don't realize this, but that silver gook doesn't look the same after three days of continuous Jet-Ski recreation. It probably doesn't even look the same after tripping over a cat toy. But it's the kind of thing that, even if it's one little bitty ole scratch on there, it makes the whole world go: "Is that a rare fungal virus on her foot? She's a little too young for CORNS."
And what was the big deal with the Silver Toe Parade in the first place? How is it that 740,000 women all decide at the SAME MOMENT to turn their feet into sun-reflecting paws of steel?
Wouldn't the odds say that, given the spectrum of available colors, most people would go with the primaries and secondaries, with a few anarchists opting for the exotic colors normally reserved for Italian
sports cars? It's like every elementary school kid suddenly decided that his favorite Crayola color is "flesh." I mean, how does this stuff HAPPEN?
It's those Vietnamese women, isn't it? It's those Vietnamese manicurists in the salons who find this stuff, talk about this stuff and convince the entire female gender that it would be a good idea. It's the same people who started doing the
multicolored fingernail thing, so that some women emerge with little yin and yang symbols on every nail. Yes, we're still paying the price for Southeast Asia, aren't we?
Of course, once you've spray-painted your twinkies with one of the favorite shades of South Central El Lay graffiti artists, what better way to display it than with a two-foot-high platform jackboot once worn exclusively by purple-robed pimps in sequels to "Super Fly"? Add a gold ankle bracelet, maybe a little tattoo action
on the calf, and you've basically got a deadly weapon dangling off the end of your leg that would be the envy of Grace Jones in "Conan the Destroyer."
Just the kinda girl I wanna marry!
Anyhow, speaking of women who might wanna have sex with you and might wanna kill you, and you don't care which, Amazon B-movie queen Julie Strain is back in "Lethal Seduction"-and when I say she's back, I mean she's, like, really back, with these long involved nude scenes where she's making the sign of the triple-fluted stegosaurus with that look in her eye that says, "Yes, I AM crazy, but LET'S PARTY!" There was a period after Julie got married to Kevin Eastman, publisher of Heavy Metal magazine, when she wasn't getting nekkid anymore except for "old friends" like director Andy
Sidaris. Obviously, after this short period of enforced retirement, the ripaway bra beckoned.
This is the old story of the Denton, Texas, Mafia (yes, that's what I
said) and the hotshot cop determined to shut 'em down. The cop is played by Christopher "son of Robert" Mitchum, who is starting to look amazingly like the old man as he stumbles around Denton trying to figure out which femme-fatale bimbo is causing all the friends of mob boss Joe "brother of Martin Sheen" Estevez have massive heart attacks while having sex.
Unfortunately, if you've ever been to Denton, Texas, then you know it might be a LITTLE difficult to get that gritty urban Italian mob town FEEL there, since you're working with strip shopping centers, apartment complexes, high school athletic fields and the flattest farmland south of Omaha. It does have the advantage of being right up the road from Lake Dallas, where two of the greatest cult films in drive-in history were filmed-"The Giant Gila Monster" and "Attack of the Killer Shrews." But director Fred Watkins failed to come up with the necessary mutant monsters to overcome the limitations of his terrain.
What Freddie DID come up with is pretty dang inspired gratuitous sex, spaced about every 10 minutes through the movie so the thing becomes watchable. Freddie, you'll recall, is the man who was so
inspired by winning the Joe Bob Briggs Look-alike Contest in 1984 that he went on to become an exploitation film director, and now teaches film at the University of North Texas, which happens to be located in (surprise!) Denton.
Obviously, he sent me this film in the hopes that this past association will result in my being biased in his favor. He even implies that he'll get a better review because he knows me.
He's right.
Nine dead bodies. Twenty breasts. Multiple aardvarking. Two motor vehicle chases, with one lame crash. Two vicious beatings.
One gun-battle. Bullet through the forehead. Syringe Fu. Featuring the romantic drive-in hit "You Can Kiss Me Slowly."
Drive-In Academy Award nominations for...
Fred Watkins, the director, for casting himself in a sex scene with Julie Strain.
Julie Strain, whose new photo biography is called "Six Foot One and Worth the Climb," for her usual brand of inspired deadly nookie.
Chuck Gale, as the goofball coroner who sets his sandwich down on the dead bodies while he's working.
Joe Estevez, as the sinister mob boss, for saying, "I own that trashy brunette!"
And David Michie, as the lame playboy love interest, who says things like, "We're supposed to go hot-tubbing tomorrow afternoon."
Two stars.
Joe Bob says check it out.
© 1997 Joe Bob Briggs All Rights Reserved