Misunderstood Masterpieces: Bachelor Party

Posted by Will Helm on 02.24.2004

…or, Gentlemen, I Bring You ... More ZMED!

You know something? I’ve been going over my recent selections from the ‘80s and I noticed an unintentional – yet really cool – connection between the films. Each of them, in some way or another, contains the major film debut (or debuts) of actors who went on to be much more famous. Here’s how it all works out: Blind Date was the film debut of Bruce Willis; Excalibur has not one but two debuts – Gabriel Byrne and Liam Neeson; and Night Shift contains the onscreen introduction of none other than Michael Keaton. Next we have the madcap 1984 comedy Bachelor Party, featuring then-sitcom-star Tom Hanks in his . . . well, alright, it’s not really his debut. That would be in the awful and formulaic 1980 slasher-film He Knows You’re Alone, and it’s not even his major film debut either. That would be 1984’s Splash, which introduced the world to Hanks’ cinematic awesomeness. Bachelor Party is a first, of sorts, for Tom Hanks: his first Misunderstood Masterpiece (and he has had A LOT of them: The Man with One Red Shoe, Volunteers, Dragnet, The ‘Burbs, etc.). Hmmm . . . something tells me a Hall of Fame induction might be warranted in the future. It’d be nice to have an Oscar winner in there.

Anyway, Bachelor Party, in addition to the very funny “average Joe Versus the Volcano” performance of Tom Hanks, has something else, something that another film we’ve covered in these pages had . . . a certain cinematic je ne se quoi, if you will. That something, of course, is THE AWESOME POWER OF ZMED! Yes, Bachelor Party, in addition to featuring one of today’s most talented actors, features the man, the myth, the legend Adrian Zmed. Yes, this cinematic offering is graced by the presence of the costar of T.J. Hooker and Grease 2 and host of Dance Fever and is much better for it. I may be the first in saying that this overwhelming talent is ripe for a comeback, but that would make me proud to be the first to say it. Adrian Zmed, we salute you! And now we bring you your regularly scheduled column . . .

This film begins as one would expect any adult-skewed bawdy comedy to begin: a bunch of kids stand in front of a Catholic school chaperoned by a nun. Ooh. Now that’s tawdry. Rick Gassko (Hanks), perhaps the worst last name for a character I’ve heard in a while, pulls up in his wonderfully safe and modern school bus and hits on the angry, crusty nun (Florence Schauffler). Even though Rick, our hero, may be really desperate for some nookie, unfortunately, or fortunately, for him, she’s having “nun” of it, so to speak. The kids get on the bus, go up and down while the wheels go ‘round and ‘round, and then all hell breaks loose. Evil deeds such as fighting, gambling, and lascivious behavior break out; it’s a good thing it’s not a co-ed bus or else other things might break out too. That is what happens on those big yellow monstrosities nowadays.

Elsewhere, Jay O’Neill (Zmed), stud photographer, takes pictures of a little kid, puts him to sleep, and then takes pictures with his well-endowed single mother. For no particular reason, Rick shows up and sticks his head in the frame. Ah, there’s nothing like a wacky opening credits sequence; I love you, ‘80s! Meanwhile, Rudy (Barry Diamond), the dumb mechanic, mistakenly drinks STP, which he finds in his beer cooler. Because I always want the guy working on my car to be blitzed out of his mind. Later, Gary (Gary Grossman), a whiny ticket broker, whines about Boy George’s yeast infection and his mother. Gary’s mom, not Boy George’s. Gary does, however, harness the awesome power of the satin tour jacket, which is just a few rungs down in awesomeness from the awesome power of ZMED . . . and that’s pretty damned awesome. And I think I just broke the world record for using the word “awesome” in the same sentence. That’s just awesome. The crew finally convenes at a fairly nice restaurant, where the final member of the group, dimwitted pretty-boy Ryko (Michael Dudikoff) works. They join together and Rick informs them all of a little piece of news: he’s getting married! His friends, their security threatened by the wily female in Rick’s life, freak out, but Jay uses his supernatural abilities to calm the troops. After the congratulations, they propose a bachelor party (which makes sense, considering the title) and Rick promises that NOTHING is going to change. Why do I sense that’s not what’s going to happen?

Somewhere else in the city of Los Angeles, a bizarre dance number breaks out at an ultra-hip and modern (for 1984) boutique. And, lo and behold, Debbie Thompson (Tawny Kitaen), Rick’s fiancée, works there in a loincloth. No, really . . . her dress looks like a loincloth. Ah, the ‘80s. After a little bit of excitement, Debbie informs her goofy coworkers about her new status as a bride-to-be and there is much rejoicing (as well as helpful exposition). Later that night, Rick sings while welding and cooking. The singing and cooking make no sense, but the welding does; it seems that Rick is one of those “artists” who put together “sculptures” made of “pieces” of “metal” bent this way “and” that. And I like playing with quotation marks. You know something? I wouldn’t be surprised that Rick is the artist who’s work Walter and Nadia went to see in Blind Date. Think that’s a dubious claim? Well, while cooking, Rick juggles meatballs and rambles incoherently . . . Walter juggled paté and rambled incoherently. Coincidence? Minutes afterward, Debbie arrives and the broccoli bursts into flames. The two occurrences may not be mutually exclusive, by the way. After dinner, or before dinner, or sometime around dinner (the timing is sort of vague), Debbie gets all indignant with Rick after inquiring about the possibility of the titular bachelor party; it seems that she’s now little miss curious . . . and annoying. Rick, to placate his jealous and insecure betrothed, chases her while armed with a manual egg beater. Umm . . . yeah.

Some indeterminate time in the future, Rick visits his frustrated, paranoid doctor brother Stan (William Tepper). After some chitchat and a blood test, Rick fights off his proctologist sister-in-law Tina (Bosom Buddies alum Wendie Jo Sperber) and her very dirty finger, which leads to a scene being caused between the brothers Gassko. Yet later, at the Thompsons (in Cape Feare?), Rick plays tennis with the future in-laws, Mr. (George Grizzard) and Mrs. (Barbara Stuart). The credits don’t list their real names, so I don’t have to either. Rick mistakes the civilized game for baseball, repeatedly hitting the ball out of the court area, pissing off the neighbors and much to his future father-in-law’s chagrin. Later, Debbie’s dad informs Rick about his apprehensions regarding Rick’s genetic line while Debbie’s bitter, man-hating cousin Ilene (Deborah Harmon) gives her a stern talking to about the perils of a bachelor party. Debbie’s dad, who must be related to the Rogets, lists every negative adjective ever created to describe Rick . . . to Rick’s face! To be sure, though, you can’t fault his honesty. Later, Rick goofs off at lunch, even more to Mr. Thompson’s chagrin, but then Debbie’s creepy Aryan ex-boyfriend Cole (Robert Prescott) shows up to play tennis with the elder Thompson . . . as well as plot EVIL! against Rick. It all comes down to genetics, you know; Margaret Sanger would be proud. As part of his evil plan, Cole later offers Rick cash and prizes in exchange for the rights to Debbie, but Rick refuses. Perhaps if Cole had thrown in Zarley Zalapski and a couple of draft picks, then Rick would’ve taken the deal.

That night, in bed, Debbie suffers from the heartbreak of insomnia – no, wait . . . that’s usually reserved for psoriasis – so Rick gleefully offers to bludgeon her into unconsciousness. It seems that she’s anxious and worried about the upcoming nuptials; maybe she should read Jessica Simpson’s book all about the same subject: I Got Married, Lost My Virginity, and Now I Can Sing About It! It’s in a store near you. Speaking of Ms. Simpson, I don’t quite know which is more disturbing: her utter dimwittedness, her giant head (that chick has one HUGE melon), or her sloppy chest. Please, for the love of all that’s sacred, invest in a good bra or two. Anyway, digressions aside, Rick deftly moves from threats of physical violence to a suave massage, all while saxophones play in the background. Too bad this isn’t an erotic thriller or else they’d be getting it on in a heartbeat, but first his naïve rookie partner would have had to have been killed.

Later, the night of the bachelor party and the bridal shower, specifically, Rick drops Debbie off at her family’s home while Gary the nerd braves the inner city to find some hookers. Cole, dastardly villain that he is, follows behind and bribes the unusually helpful pimp (Ji-Tu Cumbuka) for information and gives the Dolemite-wannabe a new address to send his ladies. At some giant hotel, which plays Handel OUTSIDE for no particular reason, O’Neill introduces the guys’ now whacked out coke-head buddy Brad (Bradford Bancroft) back into the fold. At the first sign of rambunctiousness, however, the stuffy hotel manager (Kenneth Kimmins) attempts to put his foot down. Yeah . . . that’ll work. Does it ever work? Back at the Thompson household, Debbie’s Aryan friends bring gifts while her ditzy coworker eats dog food. She later started dancing and changed her name to Cristal Connors. Hey . . . it could happen.

In the hotel room, which is decorated with a plethora of Trojan Ribbed (in a very new twist to product placement), the guys start the party off right, by watching a porn which had been helpfully edited by Debbie. Then again, edited porn can’t be any worse than some of the movies I’ve seen . . . when did all the spitting and “thwap thwap thwap” (guys know what this is) become erotic? Ooh! There’s a hot siliconed honey right there on the bed . . . and he can’t get the equipment working so he smacks her with it a few times. Yeah . . . REALLY sexy. Meanwhile, over at Debbie’s soiree, Tina arrives at the front door flanked by two hookers. Not only is she a proctologist, but she’s also a madam. Now that’d be an interesting visit to the doctor’s office! In actuality, these are the hookers that Cole re-routed from the guys’ party (just in case those at home couldn’t figure that out), but they’re not just any hookers. They’re DOMINATRIX HOOKERS! They get down and do their thing for the congregated ladies while Cole celebrates outside maniacally.

Back at the stag party, the now inebriated and sexually frustrated Rudy attacks Gary, giving in to the final, fatal stages of blue-balls. Jay asks the crew for peace, but gets pelted with cans for his troubles. Then, just to make the night complete, Cole arrives and this time offers to trade his cherry Porsche for Debbie. While Rick and Cole deliberate, mainly because a Porsche may be just as good or better than Zarley Zalapski, Rudy surreptitiously sneaks out of the party, down to the street, and steals the Porsche. Cole, as would be expected, freaks out, in his inimitable, Hitler-youth way.

Later, as an act of VENGEANCE for the hooker stunt, Debbie and her party go to a male cabaret, but one of Rick’s friends, serendipitously on duty behind the bar, rats on Debbie and the girls. Rick and the guys, so bored out of their wits that they’re willing to brave nearly-naked and oiled men, go off to investigate. At the cabaret, a momentarily reluctant Tina gets involved onstage and a VERY surprised Stan witnesses his wife getting her freak on. In the kitchen, some guy with perfect hair whips out his kit, but not his tackle, and swings it into a hot dog bun. If that wasn’t disconcerting enough, Rick and his friends watch nonchalantly while he does all this. Perfect-hair man then goes to the floor of the club, offering tasty treats to the ladies in Debbie’s party; it’s Debbie’s mom, however, who picks the winner . . . or, should I say, wiener. Strokes the salami. Beats the bologna. Flogs the log. Wakes up Capt. Howdy. Rubs one out. Counts the chickens before they hatch. Makes hay while the sun shines. This is silly and I’m only stretching things because this movie is so short. Oh . . . sorry. Did I just type that?

Speaking of silly, who are these people who eat in strip clubs anyway? I know that there are some that bill themselves as “steakhouse and cabaret” for zoning purposes, but who goes there to eat? I can just imagine it now . . . “Mmm, that’s a fine prime rib. Oh! Look! Candy’s doing a handstand on the pole! Pass the potatoes! Waitress, I’d like a chocolate mousse and a lap dance for dessert.” And don’t ever ask for milk in your coffee or any seafood dish. Those are just no-nos.

Speaking of even more silly, back in movie-world, Gary braves the dangerous inner city again to meet with a very polite Indian pimp. At the hotel, the guys return to the room, dejected that there’s STILL no available professional women there. It’s so bad that Rick finds a suicidal Brad in the bathtub. Frustration can do that to a man . . . although I think he’s got the concept of the “cold shower” a little bit confused. Down in the lobby, Rudy the dumb mechanic eats candy bars for no particular reason and then tells Cole just where to locate the Porsche. Cole, the Aryan posterboy, finds the Porsche . . . righteously tricked out, complete with a flame job and KC lights. Cole, unappreciative of Rudy’s handiwork, freaks out yet again.

Back in the room, the titular party FINALLY gets started right and quickly. C+C Music Factory would be proud. Elsewhere, Debbie and her friends and family dress like high-class hookers for no particular reason. At the hotel, meanwhile, the band (who books a band for a bachelor party?), who may or may not be bouffanted transvestites, arrive to play their crappy wannabe B-52s New Wave music. While Stan gets some sweet extramarital lovin’ in one of the bedrooms the rest of the guys have seizures. Gee, it’s a good thing that Stan’s a doctor! Then, just because things aren’t wacky enough, a bunch of random people crash the party and Gary the nerd falls for a very masculine woman. Then, just because, Rick dances on the piano while Jay has Dance Fever flashbacks and starts singing with the band sans his shirt. In the bathroom, Rick finds Brad attempting to slit his wrists with an electric razor. Hilarity, I sense, is beginning to ensue. Then, in what must be a total shock to every viewer out there, we learn, as well as Gary, just how much there is to know about the crying game as he finds out the awful truth about his “woman”: she’s a BMW mechanic! Oh, and a transvestite. The Kinks would be proud. Back out in the room, Brad dances while Rick yells at some girl’s chest. Yeah . . . makes sense.

While Cole runs around outside the hotel in commando gear for reasons unbeknownst at the moment, Jay gives Rick a little pep talk. It seems that Jay called up a HOT CHICK that he and Rick went to high school with and she would just LOVE to get it on with Rick one last time . . . assuming there was a first time, of course. Rick then enters the bedroom where Tracey (Monique Gabrielle), the HOT CHICK, awaits and things start to get a little weird. Alright, a lot weird. First, in a not-that-weird moment, Tracey gets VERY naked; I’m talking full-on starkers here. She sits on the bed in front of Rick and suddenly Debbie’s scolding head appears where Tracey’s once was. Um . . . OK. Just wait! It gets weirder. As Debbie’s disembodied head attempts to dissuade Rick from a little bit of intercourse between friends, the kids from his bus suddenly appear, flanking Rick and cheering him on. Of course, Rick’s unconscious counters the only way he knows how . . . the NUN’S HEAD appears on Tracey’s topless frame and starts lecturing Rick about the perils of immorality or something like that! Ugh! Ugh ugh ugh! I pity anyone who just walks in at this scene; at first they’ll think the nun’s got it goin’ on, but then they’ll either be really freaked out or really turned on. Thank you for that, movie. Can I send you the therapy bill?

Meanwhile, commando Cole gets a room in the hotel across the courtyard from Rick’s party. He readies his crossbow . . .

Wait a minute. A crossbow? Who uses a crossbow? If ever there was a less-threatening weapon ever invented, I’d like to see it. Yes, the crossbow is good for about one shot – and that’s about it. It may look cool to have a bow crossed with a pistol but, from a practical standpoint, it’s terribly inefficient. Now, if Cole had pulled out a compound bow, that would’ve been much much cooler and Strong Bad would be proud. Oh . . . back to the movie . . .

. . . and fires through the open window of his room and through the conveniently open window of Rick’s room as well. The Indian pimp, there to flex his strong sub-continental pimp-hand, is rightfully freaked out by the bolt suddenly appearing in the wall next to him. Rick discovers Cole’s evil plot, thanks to another bolt suddenly appearing in the wall in front of him and LOOKING THROUGH THE WINDOW RIGHT AT COLE. Now we see exactly why the Nazis fell: good genetics does not always equal brain power.

While, through a HILARIOUSLY convoluted series of events, Debbie and her group end up in a room full of underwear-clad Japanese men, Rick and Jay enlist Tracey to aid them in garnering REVENGE! against Cole. While Tracey distracts Cole with her feminine wiles, Rick, Jay, and Rudy bust in to Cole’s room and hang him out the window naked. A few floors below, some random couple see Cole’s bright white moon from out their window and pointless screaming ensues. Back at the party, Stan and Ryko (what kind of name is that?) deliver a donkey for some good, old-fashioned fun with bestiality. Meanwhile, Cole falls from his precarious position, directly into the random couple’s sunroof! Haha . . . that’s too funny; although how they ended up parked in the courtyard is beyond me. Continuity, people! Cole escapes from the aperture only to meet Mr. Thompson in the lobby, who is only there thanks to another conveniently convoluted series of events. Methinks the writers wrote themselves (or the characters, at least) into a corner.

Back in the room, some chick dances with the donkey, but Debbie’s father arrives to break up the fun. Jay sends him to one of the bedrooms and then orders a horde of hookers to do their dirty work on him. While the random chick strips in the middle of the room, the unattended donkey pops pills, snorts coke, freaks out, and dies. Uh-oh. That’s not good. Just ask Kent Dorfman. The guys lovingly place the deceased ass in the elevator, where the effeminate hotel manager finds it and, unsurprisingly, screams like a girl. Back with the Japanese, Debbie and the rest escape their clutches before they can learn about such things as sushi, hentai, and bukkake. Of course, in moments such as this, there’s bound to be casualties, as Debbie’s man-hating cousin Ilene stays behind to distract the randy Asians.

Debbie, now on to Rick’s party, infiltrates the get-together masquerading as a Southern hooker. The boys, because they’re not idiots (like a certain Aryan), instantly see through the ruse and inform Rick, who plans evasive action. After his trap is set into motion, Debbie freaks out, but Rick enlists the partygoers’ aid in convincing her of his fidelity. Say what you will, but they’re very well-behaved and attentive guests. Debbie, now satisfied with Rick’s assertions, gets all hot and bothered and runs to a bedroom . . . where she finds her father in S&M gear and surrounded by scantly clad hookers. Now that’s got to be uncomfortable – for both of them! Just then, in a turn of events which only occurs so that the plot can wrap itself up, the party gets raided! Debbie and Rick get separated! Tina goes psycho on Stan after beating up a couple cops! That last sentence didn’t rhyme with the other two! OK, enough with the exclamation points! Dammit.

In the chaos, Cole, his miniscule brain now devolving to near-Neanderthal intelligence, kidnaps Debbie and pilfers a road-crew truck. Rick and the gang (no relation to Kool) give chase in his school bus while C.Hi.P.s-style funk plays in the background. Erik Estrada would be proud. They all end up at a hyperbolically large movie theater, where they split up to locate the evil Cole and the helpless maiden Debbie. My guess is that he’s probably tying her to the railroad tracks right about now. Conveniently, Rick is the first to find Cole and his lady-love; a fight, synchronized with the film going on in the background, breaks out between Cole and Rick. One would think that Cole’s superior breeding would give him the advantage but, due to his rapidly disintegrating intellect, Rick bests him and then Brad drives the school bus through the screen . . . and there is much rejoicing. Finally, at the denouement, Rick and Debbie get married . . . and Rick chases Debbie off the dais with the egg beaters while Brad commandeers the bus . . . and they all live happily ever after.

To be honest, Bachelor Party really isn’t that bad. Dated, cheesy, and convoluted, but certainly not bad. Why is it not that bad? Besides the Awesome Power of ZMED, this is one of the first true examples of the fine work of Tom Hanks. Yes, Tom Hanks, even in a screwy, bawdy comedy like this, can work wonders with his average-guy charm and wit. Like his later, more lauded roles, he makes us understand the character of Rick Gassko, a man who is in love with a privileged HOT CHICK and is not afraid of that fact. Yes, some may say that he’s beneath her; some may think that she’s no better than a Porsche, tools, and appliances; some may hate men but then get involved with a bevy of Japanese guys, but Rick loves her and lets us all know he loves her. It’s funny that sometimes you can find romance in the strangest of places much like, at times, this movie is funny. And, most definitely, a Misunderstood Masterpiece.

By the way, keep those nominations for the 50th Misunderstood Masterpiece coming. The fine people over here at Will Helm Central are feverishly tallying votes, but the real selection is up to YOU! Just remember, if I can find it on DVD or VHS, the leading vote-getter will become the big 5-0 and you, YES YOU, will be famous because of it. Just send those titles along to the appropriate address and, in just a few short weeks, you’ll see just what the winner is!