Chesty Anderson U.S. Navy

My review was written in May 1984 after a screening at Selwyn theater on Manhattan's 42nd St.

"Chesty Anderson -U. S. Navy" is a relatively obscure exploitation film shot in 1975, released the following year by the since-defunct Atlas Films and just arrived in New York as a second feature. Chief interest here is the cast, combining many voluptuous pinups of a decade ago with a number of familiar character players later to become famous troupers.

Shari Eubank, who had just starred in Russ Meyer's "Super Vixens", portrays the titular character, a Wave in the U. S. Navy whose younger sister is kidnapped and killed by local Mafioso -the Baron (Frank Campanella) and VIncent (Timothy Agoglia Carey) for having photos that would incriminate a Mafia-controlled corrupt senator (George Cooper).

Anderson sets out with three of her fellow servicewomen to find the missing sister, but their adventures on land (for a service comedy, film contains absolutely no seafaring action) play second fiddle to silly gags. Ultimately, a government undercover agent (Fred Willard) unravels the case and collars the baddies.

Besides Wiilard, whose straight-ahead thesping resembles his more familiar persona as a (former) regular on the "Real People" tv series, there are glimpses of the ebullient Scatman Crothers as a pool hustler and even acmeo by Betty Thomas of "Hill St. Blues". For pulchritude, Eubank is upstaged by the superstructures of costars Rosnne Katon and Dorrie Thomson, plus numerous other starlets, including Dyanne (of the "Ilsa" sex and gore films) Thorne as a nurse in a lengthy burlesk-style "Doctor will see you now" segment, Joyce Gibson and Uschi DIgard, also of "Super Vixens". Surprisingly, there is very little nudity here.

Acting honors go to Carey, who is way over the top "winging it" with stream-of-consciousness Italian expressions and an hilarious limping-jiggling gait. The young heavy of 1960s pics, John Davis Chandler, pops up as a gangster henchman who gets fed to a carnivorous plant, in explicit homage to "The Little Shop of Horrors". For obvious reasons, good or bad depending upon one's point-of-view, no one makes films in this vein anymore.

In general, this movie an unremarkable exploitation comedy (not to mention rather tame by sexploitation standards--despite the presence of such B-movie queens as Uschi Digard and Dyanne Thorne, nudity is kept to a minimum). However, the gonzo performance of Timothy Carey as the lame-jacketed thug Vincent rises above the rest of the movie and makes the whole thing worthwhile. It appears that Carey was given free rein in his scenes, improvising outlandish speeches and such bizarre actions as clucking like a chicken. Indeed, if you look at some of the other performers onscreen during Carey's big moments, you'll see genuine confusion (and perhaps even a little fear) on their faces. Carey was known as an eccentric and difficult actor to direct...apparently, in this case, the director decided just to stay out of Carey's way.