Michelle
Bauer stars as a talent agent who narrates two stories. In the first, a rock band waits at a gig for
their drummer, Becky LeBeau who is running late. Why is she running late, you ask? Well, she’s way too busy playing with herself
in the bathtub, that’s why! When she
finally gets to the studio, they belt out a rock song. Oh, did I mention the one and only Linnea Quigley
is the singer? The song she does is no “Santa
Monica Boulevard Boy”, but it’s not bad. Then their agent brings them new outfits to
wear, which means they all have to undress and change into them right there on
the spot! Becky takes lead on the next
(okay) song and imagines herself singing in the nude. Finally, to insure they get a record contract,
Linnea bangs a sexy music exec while Becky watches.
The
second story stars Michelle, who is overseeing a nude photography session. Her photographer is kidnapped by a jealous
rival and blackmails Michelle into selling her company. Michelle’s models then decide to make like a
bunch of half-assed Charlie’s Angels and try to rescue him.
This
segment is much longer than the first and not nearly as entertaining either. It is padded with a bunch of nude modeling
scenes, which takes some of the sting out of the sluggish second half. More padding comes in the form of flashbacks of
random sex scenes, including Linnea in a brief lesbian three-way. Michelle herself gets a potentially good Girl
on Girl scene (a flashback inside of a fantasy inside of a dream scene) that’s unfortunately
ruined by a purple tint on the camera that makes it hard to tell what’s going
on.
The
obvious inspirations here were MTV and The Playboy Channel. The cheesecake nude, striptease, and sex scenes
are like something out of a Playboy Video Centerfold, except they were shot with
a grainy home movie camera and the sound kind of goes in and out. These scenes also use too much slow motion,
but I think that was only done to further pad out the running time.
Ultimately,
what we have here is an uneven hodgepodge.
The first story is only a half hour and moves at a fairly brisk pace. The second is almost an hour. Both have their moments, but Michelle’s story
is awfully slow going. What’s worse is
the thoroughly awful rock song by a lame (all-male) band in the third act that
stops things on a dime right when it should be heating up.
I
guess I’m being too harsh on The New Beverly Hills Girls. After all, it’s not even really a movie; just
an excuse to get a few of your favorite Scream Queens naked masquerading as a
real movie. Still, as far as Excuses-to-Get-Your
Favorite-Scream-Queens-Naked-Masquerading-as-a-Real-Movie movies go, you can
certainly do much worse.
AKA: Beverly Hills Girls.
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