Live Nude Girls
Reviewed by Jenny LeComte
Rating: 9.5 Beans
efine "Live Nude Girls". Is that opposed to "Dead Nude Girls"? Puleeze...
The first inkling that I was going to hate this movie - apart from the no-brainer title - was when I found out it was produced by "Spelling Entertainment". Spelling as in Aaron? Gimme a break. That man's produced more crap than a stableful of horses with dysentry.
The second was when I noticed the large number of Aussie blokes hovering near the video cabinet, eyeing off this movie and trying to get their guts up to hire it. Upon seeing the provocative title, they could barely contain their excitement. T&A plus a slab of beer? It doesn't get much better than that.
Mind you, any red-blooded man hiring this movie to satisfy his masturbatory fantasies is in for one big, fat disappointment and may need the forementioned slab of beer to recover. "Live Nude Girls'' is not "Showgirls''. There are no burlesque queens in red thigh boots, no strippers doing unspeakable things to poles and no serpents meeting people called Tracy.
Instead, you've got a group of giggling Californian girls having a grown-up slumber party, getting rip-roaringly drunk and sharing their deepest, darkest secrets with each other. Jill (Dana Delaney of "Exit To Eden" infamy) waxes lyrical about being covered in flour and devoured by her sous chef. Jamie (Kim Cattral) confesses to having it off with a Greenpeace guy. Rachel (Laila Robbins) confesses that she's always wanted to have her bottom spanked by the Godfather. Marcy (Cynthia Stevenson) gets as silly as a wheel and ends up snogging with Jill's live-in lover Chris (Olivia D'Abo).
In all, it's an extremely tedious 95 minutes. After watching this pathetic excuse for a movie, I felt like going back to the video shop and taking them up on their "love it or swap it free'' offer. But I couldn't stand the shame.
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