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Cable has exposed us to some amazing wonders in crummy B-movie cinema, hasn't it? I remember being 13, and with a few eager friends, staying up all Friday night to catch the sleazy, stupid softcore action films that would start around 11:38 at night. Back in those days the cable networks could show boobs and ass on regular channels after a certain time…ah, what an age to be young. I remember USA and TNT being the worst (or best, depending on your position) in terms of this, though that may be the miasma of time clouding my memory. Anyway this flick here must have been the royal queen of that type of cinema.

On the mean streets of… well, lets face it, Toronto (IE: B-movie LA) a new type of criminal is being born, a cyborg killer that looks like a platinum blonde who apparently likes mirror shades, silver vests, helmet hair cut with a precision laser, and basketball smuggling. I have to say, they picked the proper actress to play this part, considering that she's more plastic per volume than a Barbie and even gives the old doll body issues. With her super… um… crime abilities, she quickly corners the crime industry of LA, and takes control of the evil corporation that built her. Thank god for the West coast kanooks that sex cop's on the job.

Ok, her name's not really sex cop, it's something highly LA-lien like Mercedes Porsche, but this chick gets more play in this film than a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle arcade game set on free play at a Chucky Cheese in the 90's (God, that was a long time ago). In the first few minutes of the film, she's already throwing ‘em wild with her boyfriend from the last film (because hell, a film this bad can't not be something's sequel). Thank goodness for our motorcycle driving brunette bombshell, she has an open relationship, allowing her to sex her way through potential suspects in the name of justice (hell, who ever heard of a police investigation that didn't involve head).

The plot doesn't really develop into much of anything beyond droll shoot-outs and elevator music, soft-focus love scenes. There's sort of an odd sub-plot involving the cyborg falling in love with the cop, but that doesn't pan out to anything but the obvious (contractually obligated for this type of flick) lesbian scene and a predictable twist ending that only fish who have lived in caves for so long that their eyes have evolved away couldn't see coming. The entire soundtrack sounds like it was done by Hart after their career fell apart in exchange for a 24 pack of Shlitz beer and a funnel.

Moment of madness: somewhere in the middle of the film, our Cyborg villiness robs a bank, in the process she flashes a teller to get him to open the door. The robbery is interrupted by sex cop, thus initiating a gun battle between cops and robbers, the whole time with cybergirl's gravity resistant G's exposed to the world. And to think, the Oscar for best film went to “Gandhi” that year.

Bullshit or Reel?

Bullshit, sorry folks but “Sex Cop 2: Enter the Domimatrix” does not, in fact, exist. Sadly also now non-existant is the basic cable softcore film. Once these majestic creatures roamed plentiful and free, now sadly, due to over hunting and the clear-cutting of their habitats by Parent's advocacy groups, they are all but extinct. But fear not nature lovers, to find a flick such as this one you need only look as far as Cinemax, at really pretty much anytime of day really… man, that's a sleazy, sleazy network. e.


Traveling through the spiral desert, a black clad cowboy and his naked son ride after the trail of a despot who's gang kills and guts everything he runs across. After gilding the psychopath, the cowboy ditches his bare-ass boy and takes the killers woman into the waists. Our hero teaches the woman how to find food and water in the sands by humping her, but then is told that he'll only be worthy of her if he hunts down and kills the four mystic gunmen of the desert with no edges (apparently transferring mystic knowledge through the humpty dance just doesn't grab the ladies like it used to).

There's a hell of a lot of “hu?” going on here. A huge portion of the plot revolves around freaks who inbred to the point that they can no longer leave the cave they're trapped in, and require help mining them out of the mountain. There's also a church that revolves around Russian-roulette. Anytime you think you have a grasp on what the hells' going on in this flick, another “guh?” inspiring scene will pop up and knock you on your ass.

Moment of Madness: Damn, just one hu? Maybe the gunfighter who owns nothing but a fishing net, which he uses to catch bullets shot at him and fling them back at his opponents. Not the weirdest thing in this movie, but the one that jumps to mind at the moment.

Bullshit or Reel?

Reel, here's another jem from Alejandro Jodorowski, the creative madman behind “The Holy Mountain.” This was his most widespread film, known in most places as “El Topo” hores.




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