Preceding the current lamentable wave of porn ripoffs, this Hustler-backed sequel to Get Lucky applies the same formula but with weak results. It's not very funny (basically repeating the first spoof's gags) and the cast has deteriorated.
Katie Morgan is far, far better in her other leading roles, and co-star Shy Love is attractive but untalented. Dick Smothers Jr. trots out his Don Adams impression again, and it's tiresome, having worn out its welcome. After the first film's mystery regarding Smothers' sexual prowess, I watched the sequel very, very closely, and in his sex footage his face is not shown, only fleetingly preventing a positive identification, so the question of whether the famed folksinger's offspring is doubled in his XXX porn performances by a stunt dick remains open. In both films I got the impression one receives when watching a movie where a stuntman does the dangerous stuff and averts his face to fool you.
Story, sex, everything is perfunctory and sorely missed are the original's assets, notably the ethereal beauty of Nikki Benz. The prolific (and overly proud of it) Cash Markman stoops to exact repetition to kill running time, as in the gag of the dog- protector for the Cone of Silence - at that point I knew I was in trouble.
Katie Morgan is far, far better in her other leading roles, and co-star Shy Love is attractive but untalented. Dick Smothers Jr. trots out his Don Adams impression again, and it's tiresome, having worn out its welcome. After the first film's mystery regarding Smothers' sexual prowess, I watched the sequel very, very closely, and in his sex footage his face is not shown, only fleetingly preventing a positive identification, so the question of whether the famed folksinger's offspring is doubled in his XXX porn performances by a stunt dick remains open. In both films I got the impression one receives when watching a movie where a stuntman does the dangerous stuff and averts his face to fool you.
Story, sex, everything is perfunctory and sorely missed are the original's assets, notably the ethereal beauty of Nikki Benz. The prolific (and overly proud of it) Cash Markman stoops to exact repetition to kill running time, as in the gag of the dog- protector for the Cone of Silence - at that point I knew I was in trouble.