Well, this film is so slow that if it were a 100 yard dash, you'd have to time it with a sundial. Its camera work is so bad at times that trying to shoot it while bouncing on a pogo stick would have looked better. The cast either look and act like they should be manning a register at Burger King or like the moms of various crew members that got their roles because they brought sandwiches to the set one day. All the dialog would have sounded better if it had been spoken by Belgians with speech impediments. What's offered up as a plot simply shuffles along like it has senile dementia and many of the scenes look like they were staged by someone who's lived their entire life inside a sensory deprivation chamber.
For all that though, I'll give writer/director Norman Ollestad credit for coming up with a couple of awkwardly raw sex scenes that manage to be so bad they're good. That's more than balanced out by some other sex scenes that are so bad they're just bad, like one that starts out with what looks like a date rape drug and ends with a foot orgasm.
Hanna (Courtney Cole) is a college freshman who's spending some time at the bargain beach house of a family friend. She was supposed to spend the time with her boyfriend and her parents, but they both bailed on her. Considering that Hanna is pretty but has all the personality of a bar of Ivory soap, who can blame them? Hanna finds a video camera in the beach house, which she marvels at like she was raised Amish, and proceeds to wander around and film her neighbors having mostly fully clothed and poorly executed sex. As that goes on, Hanna falls in lust with the underage interracial chick next door and a handsome beach bum who's barely monosyllabic, yet reads Nietzsche. The beach bum is also banging the underage interracial chick and at least two other broads, which never quite seems to register with Hanna. There's also a subplot involving the local mayor and a campaign against pornography that's not even coherent enough to qualify as a non sequitur.
Now, I don't have the foggiest notion of what writer/director Ollestad thought he was doing with this movie. Why he made it, what he's trying to say, how he thought it would connect with an audience you almost certainly haven't seen this film and your guess would still be as good as mine. The painfully cheap production values and the camera work that's bewilderingly bad mark this as one of those amateur productions that have escaped onto DVD, but even by those standards Malibu Eyes is both terrible and inexplicable.
What really encapsulates the oddity of this production are its handful of sex scenes. Most of them are so tame they could be shown on the ABC Family Channel, one dances along the edge of being stupidly erotic and then there's one where a poor body double's vagina practically gets shoved into the camera like this film was in 3D. Why are some of the sex scenes virtually Disneyfied while another is but a step or two away from Hustler magazine? It defies explanation.
Don't let this talk of smut fool you. Malibu Eyes is wearisome. It's not funny or dramatic or ironic or sardonic or puerile or romantic. I hope writer/director Ollestad satisfied whatever urge drove him to make this thing, because that's the only satisfaction it will ever bring anyone in this world.
For all that though, I'll give writer/director Norman Ollestad credit for coming up with a couple of awkwardly raw sex scenes that manage to be so bad they're good. That's more than balanced out by some other sex scenes that are so bad they're just bad, like one that starts out with what looks like a date rape drug and ends with a foot orgasm.
Hanna (Courtney Cole) is a college freshman who's spending some time at the bargain beach house of a family friend. She was supposed to spend the time with her boyfriend and her parents, but they both bailed on her. Considering that Hanna is pretty but has all the personality of a bar of Ivory soap, who can blame them? Hanna finds a video camera in the beach house, which she marvels at like she was raised Amish, and proceeds to wander around and film her neighbors having mostly fully clothed and poorly executed sex. As that goes on, Hanna falls in lust with the underage interracial chick next door and a handsome beach bum who's barely monosyllabic, yet reads Nietzsche. The beach bum is also banging the underage interracial chick and at least two other broads, which never quite seems to register with Hanna. There's also a subplot involving the local mayor and a campaign against pornography that's not even coherent enough to qualify as a non sequitur.
Now, I don't have the foggiest notion of what writer/director Ollestad thought he was doing with this movie. Why he made it, what he's trying to say, how he thought it would connect with an audience you almost certainly haven't seen this film and your guess would still be as good as mine. The painfully cheap production values and the camera work that's bewilderingly bad mark this as one of those amateur productions that have escaped onto DVD, but even by those standards Malibu Eyes is both terrible and inexplicable.
What really encapsulates the oddity of this production are its handful of sex scenes. Most of them are so tame they could be shown on the ABC Family Channel, one dances along the edge of being stupidly erotic and then there's one where a poor body double's vagina practically gets shoved into the camera like this film was in 3D. Why are some of the sex scenes virtually Disneyfied while another is but a step or two away from Hustler magazine? It defies explanation.
Don't let this talk of smut fool you. Malibu Eyes is wearisome. It's not funny or dramatic or ironic or sardonic or puerile or romantic. I hope writer/director Ollestad satisfied whatever urge drove him to make this thing, because that's the only satisfaction it will ever bring anyone in this world.