Fit to Kill

Andy Sidaris was always a visionary of mainstream shallowness. When he was just starting out in the field of television sports broadcasting, which won him an Emmy Award, he came up with the so-called honey shot, which long dominated that format. In Fit to Kill, he definitively codified jacuzzi aesthetics, which were subsequently taken over in the new millennium by reality shows in the style of Big Brother. His effort to continuously expand his own universe unavoidably resulted in a flick overflowing with characters from previous pictures. Besides the necessity of giving each of them a certain amount of space and including a few newcomers, that inevitably led to a frenzied mishmash. Under the weight of so many characters, the original world of centrefold agents and demonic bad guys, recalling the wet dream of an adolescent James Bond, the movie utterly sinks to the level of a soap opera in which the characters only loll around in the jacuzzi or on a yacht. Sidaris always pointed out that when writing characters, he proceeded based on the actors’ real-world skills, which explains why Don Speir pilots a plane in every film, Cynthia Brimhall sings some despondent hit, and Ava Cadell spouts some esoteric nonsense about relationships. The resulting lack of space then puts the newcomers in a dubious light, especially Sandra Wild, whose part is limited to answering telephones while standing topless in the jacuzzi. Fortunately, however, Sidaris again unleashed his laddish self (or rather immediate gratification of his id) so at times Fit to Kill is transformed into a catalogue of remote-control bimbos. In addition to boobs (predominantly silicone this time) and remote-control toys, there is a satisfactory amount of other popular things for adolescent boys, such as huge sunglasses and impractical yet very cool costumes, as well as some swastikas thanks to the plot about a diamond stolen by Nazis (the authenticity of the story is demonstrated by the fact that it is stored to this day in a box with a swastika on the inside of the lid). Julie Strain, who enjoyed her first role as a cunning villain so much that she became Sidaris’s mascot through the rest of their shared filmography, brings the necessary enthusiasm to the boudoir somnolence. The movie’s fun factor rises a lot in the climax, where there is finally some properly silly action when Sidaris artlessly edits together two locations that are obviously miles apart. In addition to that, Fit to Kill most effectively puts the impotence of Sidaris’s flicks on display. The need to get some honeydrippers in the film (which were usually invented and directed by his wife and producer Arlene) is covered in the script by simply having the characters, who are incompatible with the story, fantasise about themselves. That’s not even to mention Sidaris’s strait-laced heterosexuality, which goes against the otherwise overarching porn logic. Any two characters of the opposite sex begin to fool around at the drop of a hat (at least in a dream). But even though the female agents spend a lot of time alone in pairs lolling around or hanging out in the jacuzzi, crossing the lesbian line, which is such a typical feature of porn, is an absolute taboo for Arlene and her husband. _____ In the context of the Sidaris MCU (Mammaries Cinematic Universe), we can refer to this movie as the final title of Phase 2, following the example of categorising Marvel movies. The film was shot concurrently with the preceding Hard Hunted, to which it is connected in terms of plot by the central villain and several references in the dialogue. Unfortunately, due to the confluence of external factors, this second phase was terminated. The main reason for that was the pregnancy of Dona Speir, who quit show business entirely to raise her child. It is also the Sidaris family’s last more narrative-oriented project and the last of their films actually shot in Hawaii (with the exception of a few scenes from the very final conclusion of the Return to Savage Beach series). (01/16/2021) (less) (more)