For aspiring sleaze beasts, a dependable rule of thumb is that if the word “bikini” appears in the title of a movie, there’s a good chance that the picture is worth your time. The presence of the word essentially guarantees that more than one female cast member will appear in a bikini, which can never be construed as a Bad Thing. And the directness of approach implied by using the word in the title clearly indicates that the filmmaker’s intention is to show as many bikinis as possible, and more than likely, display his performers post-bikini, if you get my drift. And if said filmmaker happens to be Fred Olen Ray, then one may exponentially increase the film’s viewability tenfold. The reason why: Fred’s been making pictures with “bikini” in their titles for longer than many of you have been alive, and he loves making them. Loves exploitation like a flower loves rain, like a pig loves mud, like a baby loves candy. And he knows as much about them as any out there (he once hired Ed Wood to write a script for him), so his pictures are directly influenced by the Old School of Sexploitation – the black and white nudie cuties made by pioneers like David Friedman, Bob Cresse, Harry Novak, and the whole unholy crew that ran amuck in Los Angeles during the ‘60s and ‘70s. Fred’s movies reproduce that classic sexploitation vibe perfectly, with plenty of moldy jokes, surreal premises, and most importantly, lots and lots of naked girls fondling each other. In terms of “quality” moviemaking, Fred’s pictures may be lacking, but when it comes to good old fashioned exploitation, you can just call him The Mailman, ’cause he never fails to deliver the goods.

Case in point: Bikini Chain Gang, his latest in a long list of recent softcore comedies featuring the B word (see also Bikini Cavegirl, Bikini Car Wash, Genie in a String Bikini, and so on.) Like his exploitation ancestors, Fred takes a tried-and-true Hollywood genre and puts a sexed-up spin on it to cater to all those prurient fantasies that were never fully played out by the mainstream product. Here we’ve got FOR regular Beverly Lynne as Jessie Owens, a hapless bar waitress whose chance encounter with the “Living Dead Bandit” (who sports a skull-faced lucha libre mask) earns her a stretch in the local women’s prison. Once inside, she encounters the usual parade of prison movie stereotypes, lovingly essayed as broadly as possible by Fred’s repertory company: the Sadistic Female Screw (XXX queen Nicole Sheridan, whose surgically-revised face is looking sharper than ever), the Well-Intentioned Warden (Fred’s longest-running player, Jay Richardson), the Crazy Inmate (Belinda Gavin), the Hopelessly Horny Cons (B-list porn newcomers Jassie and Brooke Haven), and of course, the Daring Escape, which happens while Sheridan is banging one of her fellow guards (her real-life husband and on-screen partner Alexandre Boisvert, a.k.a. Voodoo), and while all of the escapees are tricked out in state-issued swimsuits (naturally – the movie’s called Bikini Chain Gang, you know).

Yeah, you say, that’s all swell, but how about the sex? Well, BCG doesn’t shirk from its duty of showing attractive pro porn stars and softcore actresses engaging in lengthy bouts of hard-R fucking – in fact, the credits aren’t barely over before we see Haven and Jassie rubbing each other down in a locker room, which is immediately followed by Sheridan shoving her bethonged crotch in Jassie’s mug. Lynne gets a desktop bumper ride courtesy boyfriend Evan Stone, Gavin gets it on with a Jassie and a beefy guard, and Haven and Jassie tagteam Trevor Zen in the back of his pickup truck. There’s a final fuck-off at the conclusion, but I won’t tell you who’s involved, cause, well, it’s kind of a surprise. Not an incredible surprise, but it’s something. As always, the sex, while not graphic, is well handled by professionals who clearly know what they’re doing when it comes to fucking on film, and more than a few scenes will be a very pleasant aid in whiling away a quiet weekend. If you know what I mean. You do, right?

Anyway, so, once again, more smutty greatness from Fred Olen Ray, but hang on, cause as the TV pitchmen used to say, that’s not all. Flip over your Bikini Chain Gang disc, and you get twice the smut with a second feature – it’s Fred’s 2003 comedy Bikini Airlines, which stars Regina Russell as the new inheritor of a failing airline who decides to boost sales by getting sexy girls to serve as stewardesses. Brilliant idea, of course, but at the risk of sounding like a complete nincompoop (which may be too late), Airlines is a solid B picture in comparison to Fred’s recent efforts. The cast doesn’t have the same go-for-broke energy as his current ensemble (save Jay Richardson, who really is the Hardest Working Man in the Low-Budget Biz), the girls (which include Belinda Gavin, here billed as Kylie Biscayne – whatta name! – and hardcore starlet Wendy Devine) aren’t real lookers, and the film itself just lacks the kitchen-sink nuttiness of FOR’s recent stuff. It’s probably best enjoyed as a palate cleanser, a short, forgettable burst of smut before the real deal on the flipside. A trailer for Airlines and a brief making-of featurette (which treats us to the site of Fred asking a crew member to stabilize his wife and co-producer Kimberly A. Ray’s prodigious chest with gaffer’s tape) round out the extras. On the whole it’s solid sleaze from start to finish.

_____________________________________________________

- Paul Gaita