Hard Ticket to Hawaii | Reelviews Movie Reviews (original) (raw)
Hard Ticket to Hawaii (United States, 1987)
July 19, 2024
I’m pretty sure that I once saw this movie on Cinemax’s “Fridays After Dark” program (back in the day when the pay channel was affectionately known as “Skin-a-max.”) Even if it was never featured, it might as well have been. Alongside 1985’s Malibu Express, Hard Ticket to Hawaii helped define not only the filmography of Andy Sidaris, but the ‘80s exploitation subgenre that became popular in drive-ins and video stores (which, at the time, were clamoring for new content to slake the thirst of a rapidly-growing customer base). Hard Ticket to Hawaii had a minimal theatrical release but developed its cult following as a result of VHS rentals and repeated viewings on cable TV.
But is it any good? In many ways, that’s a loaded question because, like most cult films, traditional methods of reviewing simply don’t work. Certainly, it’s badly acted, cheaply made, and adorned with a terrible storyline. But do any of those things really matter in a movie like this? They’re baked into the recipe. In fact, without any of them, the movie inches closer to unwatchable. Sidaris never thought he was making masterpieces. He was having fun. His cast and crew were having fun. And his fans enjoyed the “good trash” he was dishing out. Hard Ticket to Hawaii is terrible art. It’s terrible cinema. But it’s fun in its own, inimitable way.
This movie could not be made today, even with tongue-in-cheek. The gratuitous nudity in particular would put off most directors, even though the topless scenes were performed by actors who had no qualms about doffing their clothing (it was just another costume) – many were former dancers and nude models. The Sidaris formula was built on exotic locales, T&A, and cheesy, over-the-top violence. He himself dubbed them “Triple B-movies: Bullets, Bombs, and Babes.”
The movie is chock-full of moments so ridiculous that they have to be seen to be believed. Most are enhanced not just by the cheesiness of the conception but the ineptitude of the execution. Sidaris, like Ed Wood long before him, had considerably more chutzpah than talent. Still, he was aware of his limitations and used them to his advantage. Nearly all of the laughs are intentional, even though this isn’t technically a comedy. Sidaris is aware that we’re laughing at him and he’s fine with it. In fact, he’s in on the joke. What do we get? How about an assassin riding a skateboard with an exploding sex doll? Or a razor-enhanced frisbee execution? Or a hilariously bad-looking poisonous snake exploding out of a toilet bowl? These are just some of the treasures awaiting those who accept a Hard Ticket to Hawaii.
For the women in his cast, Sidaris combed through recent issues of Playboy and chose no fewer than four centerfolds – Donna Spier (Miss March 1984), Hope Marie Carlton (Miss July 1985), Cynthia Brimhall (Miss October 1985), and Patty Duffek (Miss May 1984). Of the four, Spier may be the best known, although many of her motion picture credits were in Sidaris productions – she played the character of Donna Hamilton seven times. Hope Marie Carlton returned twice as Taryn after this film and continued to find work into the early 2000s. Cynthia Brimhall was almost exclusively in Sidaris films – she played Edy six times (her IMDb lists a total of nine credits, one of which was a TV show). And Patty Duffek was in only three movies – all of them made by Sidaris.
The two male leads, Ronn Moss and Harold Diamond, were cut from the same cloth as the women, albeit without the nudity requirements. Both actors leaned heavily into the he-man machismo that defined male action heroes of the era, but to such a degree that it was laughable. This was the only film Moss made for the director; he would eventually find his way to the soap opera The Bold and the Beautiful, where he stuck around for 25 years and more than 4400 episodes. Meanwhile, Diamond came back for another Sidaris film before moving on to a smattering of other parts (like the immortal “Stick Fighter” in Rambo III).
Hard Ticket to Hawaii has a generic storyline involving guns, drugs, and thuggish bad guys. Oh, and there’s also that poisonous snake which has been infected by toxins making it especially deadly to anyone in its proximity. Donna Hamilton (Spier) is an undercover DEA agent hanging out in Hawaii with her friend Taryn (Carlton), enjoying the life and frequently taking her top off. The two discover a drug trafficking operation run by the villainous Seth Romero (Rodrigo Obregon) and come into possession of a stash of diamonds. Romero wants these back and goes to deadly lengths to get them. Donna calls for backup from her boyfriend, Rowdy Abilene (Moss), and his buddy, Jade (Harold Diamond). When Edy (Brimhall), another agent, is captured, the war with Romero and his boss, Mr. Chang (Peter Bromilow), becomes a rescue operation.
Visual appeal is a big part of any Sidaris film. That means beautiful women, hunky men, and some nice non-human scenery. Hawaii is shown at its best here, although it was considerably less spoiled during the 1980s than it is today. Cinematographer Howard Wexler, whose career has included nearly 200 titles (most of the no-budget to low-budget variety, focused on exploitation and horror movies) gets some pretty shots of the babes and the beaches.
Sidaris intended Hard Ticket to Hawaii to be a low-budget, high-energy action thriller designed for college-age kids (old enough to watch R-rated movies but young enough not to care about their quality). It works best, however, when viewed as a pure parody; indeed, seen some 40 years after its release, that’s probably the only way one could experience this. Sidaris’ best movies are his early ones, when he was still toying with the format and everyone seemed to be having fun. By the early 1990s, the movies had become cookie-cutter productions, each indistinguishable from the next. Hard Ticket to Hawaii remains the boldest of Sidaris’ oeuvre and, considering his goals and objectives, that’s not a bad legacy to have.