|Rating: Liked it
Director: Don Schain
Release Year: 1972
Genre: Secret Agent
Ginger: It takes a bitch to beat a bastard at his own game.
The Abductors is the second movie in the Ginger trilogy, a series of films featuring Cheri Caffaro as a low-rent female James Bond. In this entry, Ginger busts up a white slavery ring helmed by... wait for it... a bunch of abductors. Or, in the amazingly awesome words of Ginger's effiminate boss, she's about to head off to "abduction-land." Insert lame Disney World joke here.
The Abductors doesn't have the goofy spirit that was the trademark of many late 60's/early 70's Bond ripoffs. Instead, all three Ginger movies were designed to jump-start the career of Ms. Caffaro. Caffaro was a minor sensation when she was growing up, famously winning Life's national Brigitte Bardot lookalike contest when she was only 14. (That sick feeling in your stomach comes from picturing 14 year old girls trying to look like Bardot... just ignore it and it'll go away.) Unfortunately for whomever was backing Caffaro's career, her good looks apparently peaked at a young age. It's not that the adult Caffaro is ugly... at least not in a traditional sense. It's just... well, look for yourself.
Ok... maybe that second picture is a little unfair.
When these movies came out, they were big box office hits with the adult crowd. But whatever charm Caffaro might have had 35 years ago is lost on most audiences today. In fact, when Ginger played at the Alamo Drafthouse a few months ago, the audience audibly groaned each time Caffaro decided to strip. Or as Drafthouse programmer Lars put it: "It was like torture. But fascinating torture."
The movie itself is pretty uneven. For example, there's this great scene where a dirty banker pushes a button on his wood-paneled desk, causing the front panel to swing open and reveal three cocked shotguns pointing straight at Ginger. A triple-shotgun booby-trap button is way better than a lame silent alarm button. But for every scene like that, you'll get three or four featuring awkard sexually-charged banter between Ginger and her 'heterosexual' boss.
Come on dude. We're not buying it.
The best/worst moment of the film comes when Ginger and her boyfriend go on a date to some swanky restaurant. The two start dancing right in the middle of all the tables, completely oblivious to the fact that everyone else is eating dinner. It'd be a forgettable scene if not for the fact that Ginger pulls two maracas out of thin air and does this incredibly spastic solo dance routine. We're talking a good 2-3 minutes of arm-flailing madness, set to a thudding out-of-place flute and bongo score.
I also liked the scene where Ginger hogties one of the bad guys to a flimsy-ass shower rod in her hotel room. The rod immediately starts to bend and - to keep it from collapsing entirely - the actor has to actively struggle to keep his weight off of it. Ginger interrogates the guy and - to keep things 'interesting' - soaps his chest. For a long time. Easily the longest chest-soaping scene in cinema history.
If you check this movie out, watch for a scene about 48 minutes in. An actor has a trickle of blood on the right side of his mouth. He starts delivering a long monologue, and when he goes to wipe the blood off, he screws up and cleans the left side of his face. A classic scene that pretty much sums up the entire film. You can buy the the complete Ginger Trilogy from Amazon. Austin-based Reel Distraction readers can also catch the movie on January 17, 2007 at the Alamo Drafthouse as part of the weekly Weird Wednesday series.