|Index||4 reviews in total|
What happens when a second rate strip club promoter decides to make a
movie about his imaginary escapades as an international spy? Is it
possible to pointlessly incorporate a screenwriter's penchant for
transvestite celebrity impersonators into the plot of a semi-erotic spy
movie? Is traveling in a motorcade of yellow motorcycles and Hummers
the best way for undercover strippers to sneak up on a truck carrying
chemical weapons? If you can make it all the way through its
excruciating 90 minutes, Crazy Girls Undercover answers all of these
questions and more. But the real question may be, could a movie be any
worse? It took several viewings to comprehend the plot of this picture.
Unfortunately, each time I sat through the film I became one percent
dumber, so it is still not completely clear. Screenwriter Norbert
Aleman operates on a different level than your average filmmaker. He
has created a world in which logic and reason do not exist. Despite a
plot that revolves almost entirely around strippers, Aleman boldly
resists the temptation to show any real nudity, opting instead for
badly choreographed topless show routines and brief nipple insert
In Aleman's Vegas, terrorists are given VIP treatment in second rate casinos, yet operate undetected by the CIA (which operates out of a bar with a red Dodge Viper parked in front). They also take their private jets to Tiajuana. Everyone runs around with guns drawn, firing inside casinos while the police are nowhere to be found. When Crazy Girl Crystal is beaten up (by Yuri, the white slave trader/kitchen worker), she is fired from the show and replaced by new girl Monica, a recent parolee from New Jersey who gave up stripping to become a professional poker player. Folks, you cannot make this stuff up. There is a bomb maker and a drug dealer, but they are not important here.
Director Chris Langman is simply too busy setting up dolly shots to give any thought to the actors' performances. And his obsession with Riviera Casino establishing shots and cartoon freeze frames borders on the absurd. The cinematography makes Nam Angels look like Apocalypse Now.
How did this movie get made? Simple: the filmmakers rounded up a group of strippers, hired the least qualified cameraman in Hollywood and proceeded to blow close to a million dollars on a film that will leave you in stunned jawdropping disbelief. We can only assume that Norbert Aleman bribed the buyers at Showtime with cash, lap dances and a transvestite or two to get this thing on the air.
The one bright spot in this picture is young actress Nicole Zeoli, who plays Crazy Girl Annie Landon. She not only gives the best performance in the film, but the hope of seeing her incredible body naked is the only reason this reviewer didn't stop watching after the first five minutes. Unfortunately she is only afforded a few scenes, as the filmmakers chose to devote more screen time to close ups of former Sopranos bit player Al Sapienza and his botched hair transplant.
Another nice thing about Crazy Girls Undercover is that after viewing, you will have no desire to waste your money on the real Crazy Girls show at the Riviera on your next trip to Las Vegas.
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
This is one of those train-wreck type of pictures: a tragic and major
waste of money and talent, yet you just can't turn your eyes away for
fear of missing something unintentionally funny. Apparently written by
the guy who runs the Crazy Girls show in Las Vegas, this crazy stretch
of celluloid never figures out what it wants to be; a spy film, a
comedy or an erotic thriller. In the end, it's none of the above!
Instead, you might call it an extended commercial for the Riviera
Hotel, whose beckoning glitzy exterior is seen no less than twenty five
times during the picture's 85 minute running time.
Even Leonard Maltin might have a bit of trouble summing up the plot of Crazy Girls Undercover. As far as I could tell, an international super spy is after a bad guy for killing his wife and baby daughter. To do this, he inexplicably sets himself up as the owner of the Crazy Girls Review in Vegas. His sexy troupe of hotties are not only dancers, but well-trained desert fighters as well. When they're not stripping on stage, they're either cat-fighting in the make-up room or super-sleuthing one floor below in the hidden super-spy command center(they get there by stepping into a closet).
There's another bad guy who, despite his incessant desire to play high stakes poker in a Vegas hotel suite, still wants to blow up a toxic bomb on the strip. I may have missed the reason why, but the disaster is averted and the villain's private jet is blown out of the sky with some Playstation 2-style CGI.
In the end, the super-spy finally faces off against the nasty guy who killed his family. But just before they tangle, some busty babe shows up and kills the creep before the hero has a chance to fight him; thus saving the audience from having to endure an action-filled climactic battle.
So to sum up, lots of hot chicks but little nudity, lots of talk but little plot. Lots of money spent, hardly anything to show for it.
I usually fast-forward through movies like this. I must admit, this one
slowed me down. It had a script, a budget, and even a good soundtrack !
My primary motive for tuning in was to catch a glimpse of Nikki
Ziering's fun-bags. They're coyly available in the opening scene, never
to be seen again. But that's O.K. The movie was fun.
A bevy of lovelies help our hero save the country from the bad guys. Clive Robertson does an admirable job playing the ultra-cool Damon Archer, who moonlights as an "uberBond" when the CIA needs him. His cover is owner of a nude dance troupe at the Riviera. Nice.
The lovelies are extremely adept at using their charms as distractions, hacking into computers, and anything else their job requires. Very likable. They're also not modest. Nice.
Lots of the characters and themes are familiar. Stereotypes are not too outlandish. The happy-go-lucky Mexican drug dealer could have been modified a bit, however.
My compliments to director Chris Langman for not overdoing the nudity, which is always a temptation. Well, maybe there could have been a little more. The movie moves along nicely though, and doesn't get boring. It's not for deep thinkers. It does suffice as a guilty pleasure and entertaining movie.
Rarely do you see a breast exploit movie which also explores some of
the deep questions. Why am I here? Is there a god? Oh my head, what the
heck did I do last night? I am pretty sure, like the Matrix, the
director tapped into philosophical and religious concepts. When that
guy rips that girls shirt off as part of his foreplay, you really
question concepts like whether the ends justify the means or whether
you should pursue a hedonistic lifestyle, or connect to your fellow man
by giving your time and money to social causes.
The music subtly explores themes as well. While listening to the background music while a poker game was being played, I could hear the composer asking, "should we have dropped those bombs on Japan?" I know most people will watch this for a little T&A thrill, and miss the symbology at every scene. I noticed a lot of circular shapes, for example. Tables, wheels, hoop earings. Was the film maker suggesting the life is circular? You be the judge.
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