Review by: Giggles

outta 5

So I'd heard of this movie on and off again whenever Mark Hamill's name came up in a conversation. The conversation usually included, "Whatever happened to..." blah blah blah. With the entire civilized world waxing on about how great the original Starwars series was compared to the new prequel series, I must have a little aside about Mr.Hamill...

First of all, I'm of the school that thinks the new series has its flaws, but it's still fun, yet there must be something said about the largest flaw of the original series... Mark Hamill has the acting range of a Yak choking on a sponge. I can just see his contorted face, wrenching in agony after Vader tells him who's his daddy:

"NO! THAT'S NOT TRUE! THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"

But he's Luke, and for those of us who were children at the time of the original trilogy's release, he will always reserve that special place that the hero of Starwars lives within. Everybody loved Han Solo, but when it all came down to it, we had to pull for Luke. I mean, come on, the only action the guy got was from his sister, and Yoda, if you count that piggy-back ride through the swamp.

Luke's a unic. And all you expanded-universe fanatics need to button your lip about that lightsaber toting firecracker, Mara Jade. Just because artists and conceptionalists have protrayed her breasts enormous and splendid doesn't mean Luke likes them. He doesn't. Believe me. The following movie will proves it beyond a reasonable doubt.

This film, I had heard, was said to be really bad, horrible, terrible, sickeningly disastrous. But, oh well I'll say it: I sorta liked it. Pretty much everybody at YMR did. Our standards have probably plummeted into the abyss of cheesiness by now, but this much I can relate about us: We will not like a movie just because its bad. It has to have something going for it. And this one does. It's got Luke in it, and it was shot before that Tauntaun bitch-slapped him into perpetual visage-distortion.

The plot can be summed up very quickly. Boy loves car, Boy loses car, Boy goes looking for car in Vegas, Boy finds girl, Boy is gay, Boy doesn't want girl, Boy wants car, Boy has codependency issues with things that smell like rubber and caranuba wax, and oh, Boy gets involved in a crime-ring. By the time Boy finds car he accidentally has sex with girl (but he likes to call it, "popping her hood").

Luke lives in a trailer park, which, if one pauses to think about it, isn't that different from Tatooine (the dustbowl of the universe).

What's with Mark Hamill taking roles where his character engages in uncomfortably long kisses with blood relatives? In this moment we see that his mother is practically gnashing her teeth into his. He doesn't even wipe off afterwards either. No wonder this guy is homofagien; all his female family members force smooches.

This was the time of cruising the city. That was the scene, man. There was no internet, no internet porn, no internet chatrooms. What the hell did these people do, anyway? Read? No no no no-- it's not THAT far back in time. No, what these shaggy-haired individuals did was simple. They drove around, hooting and hollering, showing off their painted, awkwardly fabricated SHAZAM cars.

A low point in Luke's sorry existence... his pride and joy, his rapture and love has been taken from him. The car is gone-gone-goneski. Look how disheveled and downtrodden he appears, sitting there with his little cocacola. Life sucks man.

So why not take it out on the dickdrip that let the car get abducted? Through the food and drinks flying though the air, watch how Luke skillfully wraps his arms around this other boy's waist and doesn't let go.

No sir. He won't do it. There's no way he's letting go of that lanky teen body. And that cop seems to enjoy watching the homoerotic event as well.

Once things calm down, Luke heatedly tells the authorities that he won't sit idly by and watch as the "best-looking street machine on the west coast" slips through their fingers. He's going out on a mission.

Therefore, he hitches a ride to Vegas, to where the car is rumored to have been taken. He's first picked up by a Mexican Correlian named Hanito Solo.

Luke doesn't quite agree with the racial ideals of Hanito. This lone low-rider claims that only Anglos like Corvettes. This rubs Luke the wrong way and he decides it would be best to take his chances walking in the burning desert than sit with such a controversial character.

Thus, he gets a ride with a woman named Vanessa, who will later rename herself as Elenore. She's a hooker, with a really nice van, and hopes to make a good life ho-ing in Vegas.

She must have seen the homocity emanating off of Luke because she quickly informs him that hitchhikers should "stick something out" if they want to get a ride. Luke doesn't understand her little innuendos, nor does he appreciate them. In fact, he loathes Vanessa now.

As Vanessa kicks Luke out on his ass, this marks the first occasion he will turn down a willing, how-do-you-do-come-on-in, vagina. This is the first time, but it won't be the last.

The shutting of the van door is just TOO symbolic. There's even little cherries by her name, for chrissakes Luke! You've got the sex drive of an amobea, you strange-faced baboon! Chewy would have pulled up the fur when Vanessa offered, but you? No way, you had to bumblefuck it up.

There are many heartbreaks and close-calls on the road to the ultimate Corvette. I can just imagine Luke saying, "I feel cold," as the Darkside drifts over his fragile fagtastic soul. And howabout that chick's hair; this has got late 70s-early 80s written all over it--- I expect she's on her way to play Pacman. But Luke needs something more substantial; he'll wait for Mrs.Pacman.

Vanessa, soon to be Elenore, bombards Luke with free-sex, but to no avail. He doesn't want it, girl. Let's face it. She's got a waterbed in her van and he STILL doesn't want it.

I can't take this much longer. How many whores come home from a night of work and are still horny? That's a unique individual there. Annie Potts is spicy-hot in this film and you're going to wait, Luke? My respect is gone. Bye-bye. Lost; I'm waving: C-YA.

"But with the blastshield over my face, how can I fuck?"

Luke takes refuge on the floor of the van away from any hairy-mouthed beasts that might cling to his starship unexpectedly... yet again. Boy-o-boy, writing this article is beginning to dampen my spirits.

I don't understand the idea of the filmmakers. We'll watch Luke hunt relentlessly for his car, only to be outdone time and time again, and the reward will be no sexual situations and Luke's buttcrack (look closely above if you dare).

Here's a picture of a woman, Luke. Study the diagram and read the labels: Headlights, trunk, mud-flaps, tailgate. Study and fantasize that the soft texture of Annie Potts' skin is actually vinyl and watch that lightsaber ignite.

Bingo! Luke finally has sex, which is the character-change that everybody at YMR was looking for. The movie isn't over yet, but for as far as we're concerned, this is the finale. We can press "STOP" now and go about our day feeling all-better-now. Although.... I must admit that we are a little disconcerted that Luke is naked and praying to a 76 station. We'll pretend we didn't see that.