Thick Moustache: Gentlemanly Studies on Modern Leisure

Hard Ticket to Hawaii

Posted by David on July 21st, 2011

This ain't no hula, nor does it make a lot of sense

As promised on the ‘StacheCast this week, I’ll be venturing into the strange, boob-laden world of Hard Ticket to Hawaii, the campy 80′s movie that captures your heart, and if you’re into big-breasted blondes, it may also capture your crotch.

Hard Ticket follows the exploits of Rowdy Abilene and his best buddy, Jade (a dude), as they get called in to investigate the murders of two Hawaiian DEA agents. I’m not sure if Rowdy and Jade actually investigate anything, but they do wind up driving around in a jeep, making bad jokes, and blowing things up, all while being moronic. If that wasn’t enough potential shenanigan for you, add two buxom blondes and a cancerous snake to the mix, and you’ve got yourself one heaping serving of adventure.

The journey for Rowdy isn’t so much a cohesive narrative as it is a series of moments. Amazing, incredible moments that no single man should ever be greedy enough to experience by himself, but somehow one Rowdy Abilene does. Is it the white teeth? Is it the yacht called the Malibu Express? Is it the fact that he wears ladies’ bikini bottoms? The world may never know.

They clearly wear the same size!

As far as I can tell, no one wears the pants in this relationship.

Our hero drifts from scene to scene, moment to moment. One such moment is when he’s sparring on his yacht with is buddy, Jade. They put on some racist Chinese accents, make a “Confucius say” joke, and get a delivery from someone referred to only as “the Sushi man”. As it turns out that they didn’t order sushi, but a note inside of a sandwich. They read the note, put it halfway in the sandwich, then light it on fire. Perhaps not the most orthodox way of disposing of top secret information, but they don’t call him Rowdy for nothing.

The letter leads them to get in touch with the blondes and they wind up flying in to provide backup for the ladies. En route to meet up with their lady friends (via Jeep), they’re greeted with a guy doing a handstand on a skateboard down the street. Again, no one man should greedily bogart all of this weirdness, but Rowdy manages to. This skateboarding man on “heavy doobies” rendezvous with this fat guy in a red truck. Skate and the Fat Man pass our heroes on the road before stopping far enough ahead to deploy the skater. Skater then grabs, I shit you not, a blowup doll and a rifle. Don’t want to believe me? You don’t have to, because here it is:

Skater approaches, inconspicuously.

Is that a rifle behind your blowup doll, or are you just happy to see me?

Tragically, Jade is shot square in the chest by the Skater. Less tragically, Jade is somehow perfectly fine, so they slam it into reverse and run the Skater over. This, amazingly, covers him in blood and launches him into the air, where Rowdy shoots him with a bazooka, then also shoots the blowup doll. Let that be a lesson to you on blowup doll safety: never use a blowup doll to conceal firearms.

Another miraculous series of events involves a man with an Uzi and a frisbee. I’m not sure I could ever have imagined that those two words would’ve been used in the same sentence, but then, here we are.

After a lengthy stakeout, Rowdy discovers that this Uzi-toting man’s name is Shades, and that a local woman plays frisbee with him every day. Every day. A woman has nothing better to do with her time than play frisbee with a random man on the beach who’s always holding an Uzi. Interesting. Fortunately, Rowdy know just how to exploit this weakness.

“How?” you may be inclined to ask. Or, “It couldn’t possibly be something as stupid as a razor-blade covered frisbee, right?” Sorry to disappoint you with awesomeness, but if you’re disappointed with a razor-blade covered frisbee, you may as well just give up on life.

No one expects the razor frisbee!

Razorblades! His only weakness!

With their only empasse out of the way, the team strikes the drug kingpin’s compound, bazookas, boobs, and guns a-blazing. This was all apparently to rescue a friend of theirs, but honestly, it was probably just an excuse to use the bazookas again.

Finally, busty blonde number one has retreated to her apartment, where she not only contends with the drug kingpin, but the giant, cancer snake. I’ll go ahead and state outright that if you have any clue what’s happening at this point, you’re a better person than I. Either way, Tits McBoobs brutally murders the kingpin, and as the snake closes in on her, Rowdy crashes through the wall on a motorcycle, whips out his bazooka, and blasts the snake in the face. No puns or extremely gross euphemisms intended.

There’s an inconsequential scene where Rowdy throws a rich guy out of a window, before they all head back to the Malibu Express to drink champagne and live happily ever after. Roll credits, and of course, all the parts of the movie with boobs in them are replayed. I almost wish I was making that up, but the fifteen year old in me says to shut the hell up and enjoy repeat boobage.

It’s interesting, as many bad movies as I watch, I can’t believe how right this one gets it compared to all of the rest. These movies are meant to be fun, indulgent, and stupid. They should be chock-full of fun boobs and explosions. I want to see retarded monster effects and improbable amounts of blood. I want it campy and pulpy and downright moronic.

Hard Ticket to Hawaii nails it. This film exists as a tribute to its time, a rare, precious gem, that truly understood what it is to be a bad movie. With that, I’ll leave you with the “best” 10 minutes from Hard Ticket to Hawaii. If this doesn’t want to make you watch it, imagine this plus tons of boobs.

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