In this excellent unabashed B movie from 1993 you get to watch Miguel Ferrier and his wife turn one of the most enduring urban legends ever (guy wakes up in a bathtub of ice missing -insert body part- with instructions to call an ambulance) into a South of the Border escape covering topics from the Hollywood screen writing culture to Latin American police corruption to long term depression to child molestation to the underground gay community back to the Hollywood screen writing culture. What it lacks in production values (not much) it makes up for in heart.
This type of film was often showed on the off-brand pay movie channels in the early to mid 90s but usually centered more around the exposure of many, many nude body parts belonging to Shannon Tweed, Joan Severence or C. Thomas Howell (::shudder::). This film keeps its clothes on (and puts a dress on George Clooney, to boot) and delivers an enjoyable watching experience of pure escapist fantasy throughout which you will consistently thank God you aren't Miguel's character (when he is rolling around on the ground in pain) or curse God you aren't Miguel's character (when he is rolling around in the front seat of a Volkswagon with his insanely beautiful real life wife).
Good stuff.
This type of film was often showed on the off-brand pay movie channels in the early to mid 90s but usually centered more around the exposure of many, many nude body parts belonging to Shannon Tweed, Joan Severence or C. Thomas Howell (::shudder::). This film keeps its clothes on (and puts a dress on George Clooney, to boot) and delivers an enjoyable watching experience of pure escapist fantasy throughout which you will consistently thank God you aren't Miguel's character (when he is rolling around on the ground in pain) or curse God you aren't Miguel's character (when he is rolling around in the front seat of a Volkswagon with his insanely beautiful real life wife).
Good stuff.