Hard Hunted

Of course, you could pretty much take any other Andy Sidaris movie, cut it apart, move around the generic chases, gun fights and explosions, add a few minutes of explanatory dialogue and presto! A sequel. This is pretty much how I felt about this follow-up to Do Or Die. It's really the same movie, except here Cynthia, Dona and Roberta wear slightly different outfits (which they strip off just as frequently), and are now hunting the bad guys rather than being themselves hunted. This time around, the minions of crime kingpin Kane (no longer played by Pat Morita, who was busy making better movies) are trying to deliver a nuclear trigger to terrorists, or some such nonsense. I forget and anyway who watches these things for the story lines?

It's all tedious crap, of course, but then every Sidaris movie plays like a low rent T&A version of Chips or some other bad 70s TV action show, but with worse acting and dialogue, and shoddier action sequences and explosion effects. Nevertheless, he knows what his audience wants: bouncy Playmates showing off a lot of skin while shooting it out with bad guys, and he delivers the goods. You have to give the guy credit for truth in advertising if nothing else.

This movie introduces us, the american public, to a concept that will in the end rule the world, beautiful scantily clad women with guns that have sex with equally attractive men and fight terrorists in between. After I saw this fruity role up of genuine classiness, I said to myself... "self, that was a great movie, a movie that will have people talking for generations to come, a movie that will define a nation and break the hold of communism as we know it." And the silly goobers of America don't even realize this. I hope that this powerful nose goblin will change you to. -**1/2 stars

Andy Sidaris movies are hard to differentiate. They all seem to follow the exact same template – action movies starring a host of playmates as ass-kicking special agents who are also not slow to remove their tops. Hard Hunted is more of the same. The success of the films in my eyes is always down to the women. The action movie element of the film is as rubbish as it always is in a Sidaris film. There's copious amounts of gun-play, fights and exploding helicopters but it's always very third rate thrills. In Hard Hunted the story revolves around the whereabouts of a small jade Buddha statuette that contains a nuclear trigger. The villain – played by Roger Moore's son – is after it and the babes try to prevent him from getting hold of it. And that's all you really need to know.

The girls are very nice to be fair. There are seven of them and they all find a reason to take their top off at some point. Every one of them is gorgeous to be perfectly honest but special mention should go to Ava Cadell and Becky Mullen, who play respectively, well, Ava and Becky. As a T&A film Hard Hunted is a success, as an action adventure it's completely lifeless.

The seventh in Andy Sidaris' series of gorgeous gals-as-secret agents films, which by this point were being cranked out on a yearly basis. For some reason known only to writer/director Andy, Roger Moore's son Gregory (billed here as R.J. Moore for yet ANOTHER unknown reason) plays Kane, the ASIAN crimelord played by PAT MORITA in the previous entry ("Do or Die," 1991) in this series. Evil criminal mastermind Kane has stolen a nuclear trigger, an act of terrorism so despicable that it requires multiple, enormous-chested female federal agents to get naked as often as possible in an attempt to restore the balance of power! OK, the plot is negligible, as it's the gunplay, explosions, and softcore sex that are the proven formula of this series, and on those Andy delivers big-time. Look for the DVD release on March 25, 2003.

HARD HUNTED is another one of those low budget sexploitation epics by Floridian filmmaker Andy Sidaris, whose entire career consisted of sticking models in bikini and having them shoot off guns. This film's entire reason to exist seems to be based on a single sequence of a ditzy blonde shooting a helicopter at the climax, and the plot preceding that is some silly guff involving a stolen jade statuette with some top secrets plans hidden inside it, or whatever. The actresses can't act for toffee but prove more than willing to constantly strip, while the male talent involves lacklustre offspring (the lookalike sons of Roger Moore and Gregory Peck) and top screen henchman Al Leong in a stock role. It's cheesy, not very good, but you could do worse.