Movie Reviews
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Time Served (1999) Rating:  (2 out of 5) Starring: Catherine Oxenberg, Louise Fletcher, Bo Hopkins, James Handy, Larry Manetti, Lourdes Colon, Scott Schumacher, and Jeff Fahey.
Directed by: Glen Pitre
When I was younger, I totally had a thing for Catherine Oxenberg. I was teen when she was on
"Dynasty" and Oxenberg along with Lydia Cornell from "Too Close for Comfort" and were my
TV crushes. I now sort of regret my feelings for Lydia, who really was just your run-of-the-mill big
breasted, TV blonde, but Oxenberg was definitely a rare beauty. In college, I forced my friends
to sit through The Lair of the White Worm (1988) just to see her, but she was a complete tease
in that movie, stripping down to her bra and panties, but never going any further. I have long since
gotten over my crush, but I was still tickled when I saw the video box for Time Served showing
that Oxenberg had appeared in a women in prison movie. Still, thinking back to the
disappointment of Lair, I tried not to get my hopes up. But as it turns out, I should not have
been pessimistic because Time Served does not disappoint in terms to exploitative content....
....Which isn't to say this is a good movie. Quite the contrary. This movie is an affirmative
answer to the age old bad movie question, "Is it actually possible to make a movie with no
original content whatsoever." I mean, even Gus Van Sant's shot-for-shot remake of Psycho is at
least original in attempting to make a shot-for-shot remake of a movie. Time Served by contrast
is just cobbled together from existing parts... and not just parts that have been used once or twice
before, but rather from parts that have been so overused in other movies that they are cliches.
Time Served is a 100% cliche movie.
The movie opens with cheesy domestic scene. Catherine Oxenberg plays Sarah McKinney.
She's a nurse and a good mother, of course, and she and her kid, Jason (Zach Gray), joke around as she gets him up.
This tells us that they are close. It also tells us that something bad is likely to happen to kid.
Anyway, she goes to work and leaves the kid at home to play with "Dad" - the kid replies, "you
mean Bob." Okay, so less than three minutes into the movie, we know there is going to be a
problem with this Bob stepfather guy.
Right, so, she's working, caring for the sick and so on (remember, she's a good person), when she
receives panicky phone call from the kid. She races home and find that the Jason has been beaten up
by Dad/Bob. We see the guy walking up the street with a 40 in his hand. What a surprise. He's
a drunk. Damn, what wild plot twists will they throw our way next? Sure enough, he saunters
into the house when they are packing up. "You going on a vacation?" he asks. She replies that
she's leaving him instead. Confrontation follows. He yells at the kid. He beats up Sarah. The
kid disappears up the stairs and returns with Bob's gun. His response? He yells at Sarah, "I told
you to keep your kid out of my stuff." Hey buddy, the kid is aiming a gun at your chest, maybe
now isn't the time to step up the belligerent bit, eh. Bob and Sarah scuffle a bit more, and the kid
shoots Bob in the stomach. Ouch. Sarah actually grabs a tablecloth and tries to stem the
bleeding, but Bob's got a death wish. Instead of sitting back quietly and letting his nurse wife try
to save him, he decides that the best course of actually is to try to strangle Sarah to death.
Hmmm. The kid shoots him again. This time in the chest. No more Bob.
Okay, so now comes the most bizarre moment of the movie. As you can imagine from my
description of Sarah as a nurse and good mother, this movie falls into the WiP sub-category of
"innocent behind bars." The trouble with these is always how to explain that a genuinely innocent - in both the
moral and legal sense - person gets sent to do hard time. There are basically three ways to deal
with this conundrum: (1) Set the movie some foreign country where the legal system can
plausibly be portrayed as arbitrary (see Prison Heat (1993) set in Turkey as an example); (2) Explaining
the jailing as a result of some sort of judicial corruption (for instance Macon County Line (1974)); or (3)
create some weird implausible series of events to get the innocent to essentially confess to the
crime. Time Served chooses option (3). Instead of simply telling the truth about her drunken,
thugish husband, and her son trying to protect her, she decided to "protect" him by taking the
blame for the shooting herself. This is immediately implausible, since even if her initial instinct
was that this made sense, any reflection would have made it obvious that the kid (who is all of 9
or 10) was never in any legal jeopardy. Furthermore if the goal was to try to help the kid avoid
psychological stress, having his mom admit to an act she did not commit while he bore the guilt
of both the shooting and his mom's punishment seems like an odd way to go about it. So, in
short, this is a suspension-of-disbelief moment used to justify the fetishistic plot of the innocent
behind bars.
Oh, the kid, by the way, he's in shock and has gone mute. Wow, what a surprise. What will they
think of next?
Alright, so Sarah meet with her lawyer, Patrick Berlington (played somniferously by Jeff Fahey).
He claims they don't have much time to prepare the case. Um, dude, it's a murder case. Ask for a
continuance if he need more time to prepare. I guess they must not have gone over that kind of
thing in law school. His first question to Sarah is "did you kill your husband?" She answer
affirmatively, but claims it was in self-defense, showing off her numerous bruises as evidence.
Oddly enough, Patrick seems to essentially give up on the case then and there, as if he'd never
heard that "self-defense" was an accepted mitigating factor. Sarah does not think a jury will
convict her, but Patrick morosely points out that their judge is judge Maximum Bill Engstrom (James Handy). It
isn't clear to me what this has to do with the jury.
Anyway, Patrick is convinced he's going to lose the case. We get a scene back in his office
where he explains the problems with the case to his assistant: that after all Sarah admitted to pulling the
trigger, and worse he thinks her character is suspect because she got pregnant by one man at 17,
and when he ran off, married another (Bob) a month later. There are a couple of interesting
points about this little speech. First, well, so big deal she got pregnant when she wasn't married,
it's not like that is particularly uncommon nowadays. Patrick seems to think he's living in the
time of Hester Prynne. Plus, it ignores the fact that she's pulled her life together pretty nicely
becoming a nurse and all. More amusingly, since her kid can't be more than 10, I think we are
supposed to believe that Sarah is 27 years old.... Now, don't get me wrong, Catherine Oxenberg
is a beautiful woman, but she was somewhere in the neighborhood of 38 when this movie was
made, and while she might be able to pass for early 30s in this movie, 27 is a major stretch.
Patrick doesn't mention this fact either... in fact, he's more concerned with poring over his phone
bill than focusing on the case.
Needless to say, with such disinterested counsel, Sarah is quickly found guilty. Giving new
meaning to the term "speedy trial," no sooner has the jury announced its verdict than the judge
prepares to pass his sentence. But not before Sarah gives a cheeseball speech right into the
camera. Speaking about her kid, she says, "I don't know is he could survive emotionally if left
alone." But the judge refuses to "blame the victim," so she gets eight years in prison. In his
chambers, the judge shows himself to be a psycho, muttering to himself darkly: "These women.
All whores, everyone. They're just good for one thing." If you watch a lot of women in prison
movies, it is quite possible to come away with the notion that most judges are raving lunatics...
and that no one seems to notice. I find it amazing the even the laziest screenwriter would simply
re-use such an implausible - and dramatically uninteresting - cliche.
Anyway, she seems to get sent right to a women's prison. It is an older facility, and the key to
the main gate has to be lowered from wall. Is that a common security procedure? Was it at one
time? Of course, all the inmates line up to check out the new fish and hoot and holler at them.
Sarah, btw, is dressed in thin skirt and tank top - she looks like she is planning to go out on a
sailboat rather than reporting to the pokey. Given how low the budget of this movie must have
been, it was probably just what Oxenberg happened to wear to the set that day.
And then we get the scene we've all been wait for since "Dynasty." The new inmates are strip
searched, including Sarah. And after all these years, we get a shot of Catherine's very nice
boobies. Oh and several other sets too. One thing about this movie, it does not skimp on the
nudity. But just to ramp up the exploitation aspects of this scene, all of this is being watched and
photographed by a sleazy male guard, Duane (Scott Schumacher). I guess they do have male guards in women's prisons, and
female guards in men's prison, and presumably it does not always lead to the kinds of problems it
always seems to lead to in many of the movies I review... but that said, how is this sort of thing a
good idea?
Anyway, Sarah gets led to her cell, where she meets her new cellmate (Lourdes Colon), a very forward Latina
whose first words to Sarah are: "Nice ass! Know what goes well with white bread? Salsa, the hot
kind. My name is Rosie. So you wanna have sex?" She then whips off her shirt. Personally, I
would be delighted to be propositioned in this manner by a sexy chica, but Sarah demurs. Which
really is surprising, since one of the few things this movie does not provide is an extend sequence
of consensual lesbian lovin'.
Anyway, Rosie is pretty cool about being rejected. She's in for life, but she can deal with a life
term as long as she's allowed to dance baby. This isn't an artsy kind of characterization. It's not
like she dances ballet... or even modern dance. Naw, when she claims that it is all okay as long
as she can dance, she means as long as she can strip at Mr. D's, which is a prison-sanctioned
work-release program. Now I don't know many strippers (much to my everlasting chagrin), but
my impression is that very few strippers get much job satisfaction from the job. I suspect most of
them see it as a relatively easy way to make some money, and if anything they consider working
in a strip club a tolerable evil rather than a path to self-actualization. And in fairness, Rosie does
point out the material benefits of dancing at Mr. D's, which include avoid regular work details
and access to at least some creature comforts such as a small TV. But clearly for Rosie it is more
that just about making a few bucks. She really seems to enjoy her new career as an exotic
dancer.... Have you noticed I haven't bothered to comment on how unlikely it is that a prison
would have a relationship with a strip club like this? Right, because what would be the point?
Okay, so we now get our first scene in the strip club. Mr. D (Bo Hopkins) is a barrel-chested man with a bad
suit and gaudy jewelry. He's on the phone, talking to one of the prison guards about the new
crop of female prisoners that have just arrived. But really, the purpose of the scene is purely
lascivious. For the next couple of minutes, we are basically treated to a extended shot of a
stripper dancing. I'll say this, she's a very limber young lady. Unlike many of these movies, this
one looks like it was shot in a real strip club, and I suspect that many of the dancers are the real
deal. It does not make the movie any better, but well, it is something. Oh, and Hopkins, he's made a career of
playing these hardboiled, slightly-seedy southern types. He does the same here, although with just a slight
subtext of humor. I mean, here is a guy who has worked with Sam Peckinpah, George Lucas, Alan Parker, and others,
and while he has often slummed before, I doubt he was taking this role too seriously.
Having fulfilled our quota of bare breasts for now, we cut back to the prison. Sarah meets with
the warden (Louise Fletcher, aka Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest). At
first, she seems a little touchy-feelie, but it is just an act. Is she initially trying to con Sarah by
seeming compassionate? Or it is just a ham-fisted attempted by the screenplay to lull us?
'Cause, anybody watching this movie would thinks it is even possible that the warden is not a
corrupt sadist just has not seen enough WiP movies to understand the genre. Anyway, it turns
out the warden actively pimps out her girls to the strip club, and actually encourages them to do
more than dance, if you know what I mean. She also promises Sarah that she'll get more lenient
treatment from the court and better visitation rights with her son if she cooperates. How eeee-vil.
Even if this scene were well-written and well-acted (which it isn't) it would be hard to take
seriously because of the way Sarah's accent phases in and out. Funny. I think Oxenberg
naturally speaks with a British accent, or maybe she is trying to put on a slight drawl at times, but
in the end the result is amusing and manages to drain anyway any dramatic tension the scene
might have generated otherwise.
Well, now that Sarah has again refused to cooperate and dance, the coercion begins.
First, she gets treated to a full cavity search. But she still refused to break. Rosie warns her it
will get worse if she does not dance. It does. She next has to scrub floors while guard Duane
leers at her from above. Then he drags her to see Brenda, who is some sort of seemstress who
makes outfits for the dancer-stripper-prisoners. She's a big dyke - sorry about the language, but
what am I going to say? She might as well have the words "big dyke" tattooed on her forehead.
Sarah repeats her refusal to dance, but Brenda convinces Sarah to let her take her measurements
just in case she changes her mind. Smoooooth. Sarah is a 34-24-34, which is plausible and damn nice for a gal
of Oxenberg's age with a couple of kids under her belt. Brenda has more in mind that just clothes,
however, and she takes the
opportunity to feel her up Sarah as she measures her. Can't say I blame her. I'd do the same...
not really, of course, but definitely in my pathetic, little fantasy world. When Sarah protests
Brenda's roaming hands, Brenda proceeds to throw Sarah down and overpower her, leading to
lesbian rape. Like during the cavity search, the movie primly cuts away before showing
anything, which is interesting considering how exploitative and voyeuristic the movie is during
the strip club scenes. Anyway, moving along....
Sarah is a pretty tough cookie and she holds up reasonably well under all of this. She meets with
her lawyer, who seems perplexed about what to do next in her case. She hisses at him: "You're
either corrupt or the most goddamned, stupidest, most incompetent lawyer." He replies, "I'm not
corrupt." Right just stupid and incompetent. "Where is your briefcase?" she asks him. "I forgot
it," he replies. Is he retarded or what? No, I mean seriously because Fahey plays the lawyer a
little like he played the lead in Lawnmower Man (1992) before the experiments. The movie's tone is all
screwy, actually. This little exchange is done almost playfully, and seems almost like the start of
a flirtation, which would certainly be one nicely cliched way to proceed. But then instead, Sarah
just storms off. Finally beaten down, she agrees to dance.
Meanwhile, in what has to be the most painful scene in the movie, we see Patrick sitting by a
lake with a buddy drinking a beer. "Do you think I'm a good lawyer?" he asks. He friend replies
honestly that he isn't, because he never really wanted to be a lawyer to begin with, and is only
doing it to please his father. Good grief, spare us. This is a chicks and chains movie, and
suddenly we have to deal with a totally cheeseball subplot about the lawyer and his lack of
passion for the job. And oh my, will he find his spark and his true calling? Ugh. A fork in the
eye would be less painful.
Happily, the movie quickly goes back into sleaze mode. The next scene is on the bus on the way
to the club. The girls are in high spirits and frolic half-naked and they pull up... all except
morose Sarah. See, she's not like the others. She's a nice girl and innocent... which I guess
makes the other girls cheap hos? I dunno, but you sort of have to come to the conclusion that the
movie considers the other girls tramps since they are all shown as almost giddy about going to
the club. Anyway, we now get another club scene, with yet more extended stripper routines.
You know it must have gone on a long time, if it even started to seem like padding to me who
generally has no problem with extended nudity. Oddly, the girls seem to be minor celebrities in
club. When they arrive, everyone cheers. Now, it seems to me that even if you were going to
import female convicts from the local prison to dance in your club, you'd try to be a little
circumspect about where the girls were coming from rather than essentially making it the raison
d'etre of your club. Plus, I couldn't help but wonder how the other dancers - the non-prisoners -
felt about this competition. Whatever, that is never even broached.
Now, who do you think might come to the club? If you guessed he judge who sentenced Sarah,
you are starting to understand how rote this movie is. He settles down to enjoy the show, which
gives an excuse for yet another really extended stripping scene. This ain't a long movie, but I'd
guess nearly one quarter of the running time is devoted to just watching women dancing, um,
exotically. Plus Rosie even provides some instruction to Sarah about how to succeed as a
stripper: "Show them what they want to see. A little butt here, a little butt there." Great tips
Rosie. Real insightful.
So the judge is in the VIP room and he spots Sarah heading toward the stage. He seems
surprised to see her there - he exclaims, "hey, I know her" - which makes no sense whatsoever
given the plot. But whatever. Then the judge follows up by saying that "she shot her hubby's
balls off," which is unlikely, unless his balls were in his chest, but whatever, it sounds cool, so
what if it doesn't match what actually happened in the movie.
Sarah gets cold feet at the last minute and tries to back out. Duane (or at least I think
it is Duane, Mr.D. might actually have a different assistant at the club, but I always assumed it was the same guy
as the prison guard) grabs her and tries to force
her onstage, but Mr. D intervenes. At first, he seems polite and tries to charm her. He puts her at
ease and then says, "I run this place from my heart. Sometimes, I feel like Jack Ruby." Wow,
what a bizarre reference. Do strip club owners really revere Ruby? Or hell, even know who he
was? Still, you've got to give the movie a little credit here, this is the one spark of wit in the script.
Then of course, he shows his true colors... wow, what a surprise, they did exactly the same bit
with the warden when she met Sarah. Anyway, he tries to talk her into hooking on the side.
What a charmer. I am not sure how any of this makes sense. She is too shy or too proud to strip, but
somehow she might be willing or interested in actually having sex for money? Surprisingly, this
little ploy seems to work. No, she does not agree to hooking, but she does changes her mind or
something and agrees to dance with her friend Rosie. Sarah wears a leopard print bikini, and sort
of shimmies lethargically. It is a long dance sequence, but for those of you keeping track of
Oxenberg's nudity (as I was when I watched) she does not get topless.
Okay, so we cut back to the prison. As reward for dancing they give her old pictures of her kid.
How touching. Speaking of the kid, the lawyer goes to visit him. Hmmmm. Is he family or
something? Or can anyone just walk into this kid's hospital room? It turns out the kid remains
mute. We get a really awful scene as Patrick tries to bond with kid, he gives the kid a model
airplane. Man, Jeff Fahey is just completely on autopilot. He's about to leave... does the kid
suddenly speaks? Nope, that cliche is saved for later. For now, Patrick just reports back to
Sarah: "I saw your son. I think he's going to be just fine." What is he a doctor now? He's so
dumb he can't remember to bring his briefcase to a client meeting, but he's able to diagnose
mental disorders after 30 seconds of one-sided conversation? Anyway, it turns out that Patrick
has been doing some lawyering... he's suddenly figured out that she didn't shoot her hubby. See,
she didn't have any gunpowder residue on her hands. He didn't notice that during the trial
because, well, he's an idiot. Anyway she hems and haws for a moment, but then basically admits
it was the kid who shot "dad." But she still does not want to blame her son publicly, because,
you know, after all it was her fault for not leaving the bum. The logic is hard, hard, hard to
follow.
Anyway, she goes back to her cell. Duane drops by and threatens her about "talking." To whom
and about what? I mean seriously, maybe there was originally a scene where she tries to make a
big case about the strip club situation, but it either was not filmed or not included in the final
version. What she does do is slip Patrick a matchbook from the strip club, but even if Duane was
listening in, he wouldn't know. Then he says she won't be able to speak to her lawyer anymore.
Huh? How do you pull that off? Because, I mean, even if you could keep Sarah under wraps,
what do you do about Patrick? Or about any of Sarah's friends in the prison who might mention
it to their friends or lawyers? Plus, heck, she still has phone privileges - she gets to call her kid
for instance - so how can this work? Anyway, if the problem is the matchbook, then hasn't the
damage already been done? Was this whole strip club deal only able to work if kept completely
secret? Because, if so, wouldn't that place a huge amount of power in the hands of the prisoners?
See, this whole scheme only works if there is a semi-public acknowledgment of the prison-strip club link, as is
implied by the fact that patrons of the club seem to know the women are prisoners, but if that is
the case, then how can it hurt for Sarah to mention it to Patrick? I mean, I am not harping on
some obscure plot point here, but rather the basic context in which the story occurs.
Anyway, we now cut back to the strip club. The judge in dressing room sort of hanging around.
He makes a pass at Sarah, but she turns him down. Hey dude, maybe you should trying hitting
on one of the gals you didn't sentence, okay? Anyway Patrick shows up at club apparently
surprised to learn of its existence. How is that possible? It's a small town - heck elsewhere the
fact that it is a small town is given as the justification for having work-release in a strip club
because there are no other jobs available. Plus, this isn't a little fly-by-night operation. The club
has multiples stages, a full bar, extensive lighting, even its own matchbooks. How is it that
everyone else seems to know what is going on, but not Patrick? Oh right, he's an idiot. Sarah
goes back on stage while judge is in VIP lounge getting a lap dance from some other gal, but he can't keep his eyes
off Sarah. Sarah dances around and makes eye contact with lawyer. Now it is her turn to seem
unaccountably surprised, apparently she wasn't expecting him, but she slipped him the
matchbook in the first place! In honor of her attorney, I guess, she actually gets topless this time.
Which might not have been the best idea, because Patrick seems more interested in checking out
Sarah's rack than anything else. He just sits there slackjawed until the judge spots him and has
him thrown out. And again, I ask why?
Well, anyway, Patrick is suddenly energized. He decides to investigate the club and neighboring
trailer park which is apparently being used for illicit liaisons between the girls and their johns.
There are actually another couple of characters bouncing around - an old friend of Patrick who is
apparently FBI and some other guy who is some sort of "computer hacker," although ultimately
his "hacking" skills seem to consist of looking up publicly accessible property records online.
See, because, it turns out that both the club and trailer park are illegal. No permits! Huh? And
why? One hallmark of bad movies sometimes is that they seem to go out of their way to be
implausible because there is no particular reason why the club should need to illegal to fuel the
plot. Indeed, the only way this whole scheme works is if everything is basically legal and public,
albeit shady and sleazy.
Right, well, while Patrick is going through unnecessary plot complications. Sarah get led down
into the bowels of the prison... so can suffer the inevitable rape by Duane the prison guard. As in
all of these movies, he has his own little love nest set up down then. "I'll report you to the
authorities," she threatens weakly. He threatens to beat her to death. I guess that is the trump
card. Actually, Duane is genuinely creepy in this scene. He describes raping another prisoner
and beating her to death, then adds, "that was the best sex I ever had." That line inherent sits on
the border between chilling and laughable, and Duane actually manages to pull it off. Anyway,
the actual assault not shown, although Duane does tear at her clothes before we cut away. The movie
is more interested in titilation than anything else, which is fine because it means that despite all
the abuse the befalls our heroine, this movie is more stripper-nudie-cutey than a video nasty.
Anyway, while this is going on, Patrick is again visiting the kid and again making little progress.
But on his home, late at night on a deserted road.... Do I need to continue? Of course, he gets
followed by another car and run off the road. Oh my, let's leave no cliche unused! Though the
car is undamaged and could easily continue driving on, Patrick decides to get out and try to
escape on foot because, you know, when being chased by people in a car, you are always safer on
foot. Does he get beaten up or killed? Ah, it turns out this version 1b of the cliche, and the other
car was a couple of drunk buddies. Patrick asks them about Mr. D's, I guess because they might
have been coming from that direction? Or is he now just asking everyone about Mr. D's? Anyway, they
claim to know nothing, and Patrick shows his usual deligence and does nothing to follow up.
Sarah goes back to her cell all battered. As in all of these movies, being brutally raped leaves
nothing more than a few fast healing bruises. Though Sarah seems more annoyed than
devastated, Rosie gets all up in arms. She goes to Brenda to see if she'll cooperate in killing
Duane, because after all, he's raped all of them. Even Brenda, the flaming lesbian 300 pounder?
And why would Rosie try to kill Duane over Sarah's rape rather than her own. And why would
Brenda want to avenge Sarah's rape, when Brenda raped her as well? Anyway, it does not work
out that way as Rosie hoped, because Brenda claims to be in league with Duane. So Rosie stabs
her to death. Stabs her like 50 times. Duane walks in, see the bludgeoned Brenda, and slaps
Rosie around... which actually seems pretty mild considering his boast to Sarah about having
beaten another convict to death.
Right, well now that someone has died, the warden is worried about being exposed. She goes to
visit Mr. D. It turns out she's just in this whole deal for the money, which isn't surprising, what
else would she get out of it? Mr. D is not supportive enough when she talks about the murder at
the prison. He basically tells her that is her problem. She points out that the state will want an
investigation of the death of a prisoner in custody, and she says that unless it becomes their
problem, she'll cut off supply of girls. Actually, I have no idea what she wants him to do. The
whole scene seems to be just a set up for him to snap at her in response to her informality,
"Don't ever call me Jimmy." See, he insists on being called "Mr. D." She snaps back, "Don't
ever call me Mildred." Not quite "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn," in the annals of film
history, but the actors spew these lines with the same sort of conviction.
Righto... well, back at the prison Sarah tries to get a message through to Patrick - remember,
she's not being allowed to speak to him ever since she, what, passed a matchbook to him?
Anyway, it turns out that all she has to do is leave a message with the nurse at the hospital asking
her to call the lawyer. Wow, how brilliant. No way Duane and warden might have expected
that.
Then just as the movies is developing some narrative momentum, it basically just ends. We get
another strip club scene, including a completely gratuitous pan around the room at the naked
dancers. The judge is there and squabbling with Mr. D about who is to blame about the whole
situation at the prison. Outside, cops pull up in a half-dozen vehicles. Back inside, the judge and
Duane talk about the murder at prison... and decide to kill Sarah as a result. Because the best
way to deal with the problems caused by the murder of one prisoner is to commit a second
murder that will also have to be investigated. Huh? But first the judge wants a "piece" of Sarah,
which shows that only head of his that thinks clearly is the one in his pants. She's up on stage,
and he stalks towards her. Just then, the FBI busts in.
The judge pulls a gun and takes Sarah hostage. At first, he keeps the gun aimed at her head, but
then as he starts to rant, he starts waving it around. In real life, I suspect the cops would have
taken the opportunity to shoot him, but instead they just stand around passively as he points the
gun vaguely in their direction. Then having finish his rant, he kills himself. Wow, how original.
How do screenwriters come up with such original ideas? While this is all going on, Mr. D ties to
escape. In the process, he runs over Duane. He then backs up over him and chastises him to
denting his car. Then he drives back over him as he escapes. It is an oddly slapstick moment for
an otherwise humorless movie. He seems to get away, setting up Time Served 2: Mr. D's
Revenge, maybe with Justine Bateman? All of this is a little weird considering that the only
crime that I think is provable at this point is a zoning violation in building the club, and I guess
that Duane is at risk if Sarah comes forward. But the judge? We just don't hear enough to know
how the FBI could implicate him in the club, or frankly even what law would have been broken
if they could? I mean, even if he were sentencing female prisoners to longer jail terms or
something to help stock the club, I am not sure what they would charge him with? He might be
removed from the bench, and ultimately face civil trials, and, of course dishonor, but as far as I
know there is nothing particular illegal about a judge being a part-owner of a strip club or
sleeping with strippers.
So the warden gets arrested. For what? I don't know. Something. Sarah gets released. Why?
She admitted to murder, was convicted by a jury, and no new evidence has been presented in her
case so I am not sure what the basis of any appeal would be. Whatever. She meets up with her
son and her lawyer (?!) playing by a lake. I don't quite know how he weaseled himself into the
picture, but whatever. Oh, and suddenly the kid is just fine, running around and talking. So a
happy ending all around... well, except for the fact that Sarah been raped a couple of times and
beaten, but you know, that is just a minor detail.
So, okay, am I wrong? Is there anything, anything, in this movie that hasn't been seen a dozen
times in other movies? Still, it isn't overlong, and there is copious nudity, so I'll give it two
manacles, one for each of Catherine Oxenberg's bare boobs, which are the only reason to see this
movie.
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