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2012 - 88m.

When browsing through Netflix it became quite apparent to me that the T&A sub-genre of comedy I so adored in the 80s has refused to die over the years. Judging from the glut of titles that contain such words as cheerleader, cougar, and the always reliable milf; it looks like there's no lack of these things for perverts who've refused to grow up. Which is why I decided that, "Hey, maybe I should check one of these things out, just to see how they stack up to such fare as Malibu Bikini Shop" and, seeing the comforting familiarity of Robert Carradine's name above the title (the guy was in Revenge of the Nerds, how bad can it be?) and the slew of barely dressed girls on the box art, I went with Bikini Spring Break. It was only when the credits, and the instant nudity, began that I realized this was also from the "Mockbuster" pros at The Asylum - expectations were suitably lowered.

I'm not kidding when I say instant nudity. There's close-ups of naked breasts underneath the opening titles! This is a continuing trend, but at least this never drops to the level of your typical Skinamax flick. That doesn't mean there's a lot of plot or that the comedy isn't completely low-brow, but at least there is a loose attempt at an actual story.

Carradine looks thoroughly embarrassed playing Gill, the coach of a college marching band whose first introduction to us is when they accidentally broadcast their locker room (where the girls are comparing their boobs) on the football field's scoreboard. Fortunately for him, he's really underused here just showing up occasionally to give this a name actor for the box art - in fact the only scene I really remember of his is him getting tied up to a tree by some random bimbo.

As for the rest of Bikini Spring Break's miniscule plot, this has the college sending the team off to Florida to compete in a National competition. Piled into a clunker of a bus is our usual group of bubble headed girls including the upbeat good girl Alice (Rachel Alig), the super dense Zoe (Virginia Petrucci), and the in charge Whitney (Samantha Stewart). During their journey, which consists of recycled stock footage, their bus breaks down and they don't have any cash to fix it. This being the type of flick it is, they soon find themselves on various misadventures (that usually consists of them taking off their tops) to try and get enough money for the repairs and to get to the event.

A completely low-budget affair and loaded with a generic soundtrack droning on in the background, Bikini Spring Break isn't very good but at least it's not your usual Asylum effort. Director/co-writer Jared Cohn makes sure to deliver what all the degenerates who even bothered putting a flick called this on in the first place desire with a stripper montage followed closely by a wet t-shirt car wash one and some Jell-o wrestling, but even all that gets tiring by the time they have to drive through a bad CG rainstorm towards the "triumphant" finale.

While it was nice to see Carradine again, it almost makes me sad he's here. Granted, his father John and half-brother David cluttered their careers up with crap like this before their deaths and, really, how many times can he play Nerd's Lewis Skolnick? As for the rest of the cast, they're basically cast for looks and are about as good as some twenty-something wannabe actresses who are required to get naked a whole lot should be. However, Alig is actually pretty likeable and Petrucci offers up a few chuckles due to Zoe's complete stupidity.

Given that I won't ever get back the 88 minutes I spent watching this, at least there was plentiful skin to keep my attention. Otherwise, this is a relatively joke free effort that's even below the quality level of even the poorest T&A comedy of the 80's (Cave Girl, for example). If you really need your fill of naked ladies, you'd be better off just typing that in Google instead of bothering with this. (Chris Hartley, 4/22/13)

Directed By: Jared Cohn.
Written By: Jared Cohn, Naomi Selfman.

Starring: Virginia Petrucci, Rachel Alig, Samantha Stewart, Robert Carradine.